Reflecting on the Past and the Future

I get more than a little nervous listening to Cardinal Dolan on CNN talking to reporters about praying for the repose of the soul of Pope Francis. If a pope needs prayers, my goodness, how many prayers will I need? But there is an unspoken doctrine of Catholicism that if you pray for someone who is already in heaven, the prayers get “spread around” to those in Purgatory. It is doctrine that every person, living and dead, is remembered at every Mass offered anywhere. Listen closely to any of the Eucharistic Prayers at Mass—it’s in there. And so, the memorial Masses celebrated around the world over the next few weeks are blessing us, the living, as well as our loved ones who have died. Stop a few times to think about that. We are part of something greater than anything we can imagine, under the provenance of a God who is a mystery of love.

When I reflect on Pope Francis, I remember that we were both pastors, ordained just five years apart, although he was a decade older than me. The difference, of course, is that his churches, particularly his final one, St. Peter’s, were a little bigger than mine. But no matter how big or how little your congregation is, the world looks different from the position, and nothing really prepares you for it. I was poorly prepared for the priesthood spiritually and mentally, and when that happens, you just dig a deeper hole. The Vatican agreed and gave its blessing to my efforts to begin a new journey of marriage, mental health practice, and teaching. My pastoral issues were miniscule compared to Pope Francis’ life as a cleric and Jesuit. Reading his career biography from Wikipedia is quite a revelation.

The fact that Pope Francis died in the heart of the Easter Celebration is stunning to me, that he gathered his strength to survive the Lenten Season and celebrate the Easter Eucharist with his “parish” one final time—I just can’t get over that. My first reaction was tears: not grief, exactly, because his physical sufferings were beating him down and now, he is at rest. But call it an emotion without a name that needed to be expressed. I was well enough on Easter to dose myself with Dayquil and attend the sunrise Mass, which was quite moving. Our associate pastor delivered one of his best sermons ever. He stopped, extended his arms to the sky, and invited us to behold the moment. Early dawn, Venus shining brightly in the East, birds singing, music to fit the mood. I could not help but notice, too, both Sunday and on Holy Thursday, that our parish is becoming visibly multicultural, a wonderful thing. I’ve been in this parish for thirty years, but I was hard-pressed to remember a more powerful Easter observance.

I am grateful for a recommendation a few weeks ago to read The Afternoon of Christianity: The Courage to Change [2024] by Tomas Halik. It’s philosophical and it is slow going, but I found an interesting summary on Amazon: “The fruitfulness of the reform and the future vibrancy of the Church depends on a reconnection with the deep spiritual and existential dimension of faith. Halík argues that Christianity must transcend itself, giving up isolation and self-centeredness in favor of loving dialogue with people of different cultures, languages, and religions. [Emphasis mine.]

The recommendation came from my pastoral colleague of a decade, “Sister Carol,” as everyone in the parish called her. Back in the day when all of us on ministry staff had giant theology libraries, Carol, a Dominican sister, actually read the books. Looking back, I see today that it was a great mistake not working her into the preaching rotation on Sundays. When Pope Francis told every guest he met to pray for him, he was dead serious, for he faced countless decisions every day of how best to lead, teach, and best love the People of God on the delicate matters of Faith and practice. “Who am I to judge?” Did he later regret saying that in reference to LBGTQ Christians, in the sense that he raised hopes before the Church as a whole was ready to “own” the outreach?

Rome may be the “Eternal City,” but its bishop for the past twelve years has been an Argentinian, the first pope of the Americas. Will our next Holy Father come from Africa? Or Asia, notably the Philippines? It is entirely possible. What will our visceral reaction be to that? After all, we do belong to a global Church.

ON THE LIGHTER SIDE:

This morning’s New York Times has a good sketch of the dozen or leading candidates. From experience, I have found that in the secular press, “handicapping the Conclave” is usually a better source of straight-up analysis. Understandably, Catholic publications play down such discussions as unseeming. You can bet on the outcome of the Conclave with major betting houses, believe it or not. In 2005 the industry’s favorite was Jorge Bergoglio, but Joseph Ratzinger carried the day. In 2013 Bergoglio was not even on the board because of his age, but the high rollers were wrong again.

Pope Francis is going to be buried at St. Mary Major, one of the four major churches of Rome which predates St. Peter’s by a millennium or more. In 2013 there was an ATM machine behind the church, and I used a major credit card for a $700 cash withdrawal to pay our private guide for several days of work. To my chagrin, there was a $200 limit on the machine, but she agreed to wait for final payment. As luck would have it, on the crowded subway her wallet was stolen on the way to St. Paul Outside the Walls—but thankfully she was not carrying our full payment when it happened.