Prayerful thoughts on Pope Francesco I...

"Wisdom," writes Marilynne Robinson, "which is almost always another name for humility, lies in accepting one's own inevitable share in human fallbility."  I might add to Ms. Robinson's insight this addendum from Holy Scripture:  Wisdom appreciates that "to everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven." 

A time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to throw away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.

So what "season" is it for people of faith upon hearing the news that a new Pope has been elected for the Roman Catholic Church?  My hunch is that this is a season to "keep... and especially to keep silence and keep love" rather than anything else for wisdom - and humility - require it.  Let's take some quiet time to be prayerful.  Let's let Francesco I share some of his thoughts,words, writings and actions with the world before our rush to judgment. Let's let those with more depth than ourselves do some research and reflection on the Pope's mixed legacy in Argentina.  Let's not publish every passing snarky thought on FB as if they had lasting value.  And please let's not even allow our often ill-formed rhetorical questions to see the light of day because they rarely advance the cause of truth and compassion.  In a word, let's be quiet and keep silence for a season knowing that we don't yet know enough to speak.

Yesterday, for example, I was stunned at the ignorance and lack of good will exposed in many of the postings on Facebook.  First, there was a cornucopia of anti-Catholic rants written by those who likely have never cracked a book on church history.  As Peggy Noonan once quipped, "Anti-Catholicism is to contemporary American intellectuals what anti-Semitism was to another generation of bigots." And their mean-spirited bigotry and ignorance was all over the Internet after the conclave's votes were in.  What's more, these self-righteous rants betrayed a duplicity that would never be tolerated in any other context:  slander, half-truth, intolerance and hatred have no place in a Christian's critique of ANYTHING.  Yes, there are theological reasons to question the Roman Catholic realm - historical, practical and political reasons, to do this, too - just ask Gary Willis (who might serve as an excellent model for those willing to do some research.) 

But as people of faith who claim allegiance to the Prince of Peace, all our questions, concerns, fears and challenges must be grounded in an ethic of faith, hope and love.  If the Word made Flesh is our Lord, than this is how we, too, must live.  Sure it is easier to be a smart-ass - I've been there all too often myself - but a smart-ass never advances the cause of compassion or understanding.  Better to use our sharp tongues and quick wit on ourselves; self-deprecating humor is a certain path to humility - and must less destructive.

I was also struck with how quickly people expressed an opinion concerning the new Pope's chosen name:  Francesco.  Some were certain this signified he would be a man of peace like St. Francis.  Or an ecologist.  Or a servant dedicated to rebuilding the church.  Others noted that maybe the Pope was pointing to Francis Xavier - or even Francis de Sales - and what was the symbolism of that?  (And most of the Evangelical and Protestant world had no idea that these other saints even existed!)  That's when it hit me:  the name of the new Pope was like a Rorschach test that gave us unspoken permission to project some of our own hopes and fears on to this new name.  Again, this tells us much more about ourselves - and probably has some value - but mostly need not be shared out loud in this season for silence.

So what I think can be said is simple:  Pope Francesco I of Argentina has historically been a servant of the poor.  He is a man of intellect, wisdom and humility.  He is committed to compassion and a theological conservative.  He expressed authentic tenderness in his brief remarks to the crowd at St. Peter's yesterday - asking the people to bless him before he blessed them - and demonstrated a common touch this morning by going to a local school to greet the children.  More than that, we really don't know so let's not vent in ignorance or bigotry.  Rather let's lift up prayers of hope and generosity.

I confess that I have a deep love/hate relationship with the Roman Catholic side of my spiritual family.  ALL of my spiritual directors have been Roman Catholic - mostly priests - and I tend to read as many progressive Roman theologians as Reformed writers. I pray the Hail Mary as much as the Our Father.  I make the sign of the Cross after receiving both the bread and wine.  I still resonate with the commitments and reforms begun after Vatican II and celebrate the profoundly radical insights into peace and justice that my Roman Catholic sisters and brothers have shared with the world.  I once lived - with my children - in a convent in Saginaw (and when the boiler gave up the ghost during Christmas, we lived in the Rectory with my two priests colleagues.) I've worked closely with Roman Catholic sisters on peace and justice issues in Saginaw, Cleveland, Tucson and now Pittsfield.  And was a member of a small Roman Catholic Eucharistic community following the spirituality of Charles de Foucault.  I have a deep love, respect and history with this side of the family

AND... I have an equally deep history of disagreements both theological and political with my Roman Catholic colleagues.  From the ordination of women to equal rights in marriage, from the poetry and politics of inclusive language to a vastly different understanding of who is welcome at the Eucharist - let alone what is taking place at the Eucharist - from a visceral disgust over spiritualities that degrade and defile human flesh to the labyrinthine parsing and manipulation of words my issues with the Roman Catholic realm are real and challenging and troubling.

Sometimes my pain with this side of the family boils to the surface... but not right now.  Now is a season to be silent.