In the spirit of the season, we need to resist the temptation to despise the medias ill-informed narrative about popes and the Church.
Awoke this morning, a little late from being up very late, with a fine Lenten feeling of desolation. His Holiness chose to resign with effect on a Thursday; the last day of a calendar month. He chose eight o'clock in the evening because this had been the end of his usual working day. From that moment the sedes vacans comes back into view, the empty place between papal reigns and in this case a Lent within Lent. Once again, I do not dispute Pope Benedict's decision. I accept his authority in principle, but more fundamentally I trust it.
Nor, really, do I resent the malice and ignorance of much of the world's media, in covering the event as they have done, and as they are likely to do today, and throughout the Conclave, and when they will express their practised surprise and disgust at the "backwardness of the Church" when the new Pope is chosen. They are what they are, and that must also be accepted.
As a "pundit" of some kind, or let us say "Essayist" now for it sounds more distinguished, I often feel like a kid pointing a battery torch to the heavens and declaring, "Let there be Light!" This was especially so on this Friday morning, the last of the pontificate of my greatest living Catholic hero; one who had the curious habit of speaking and writing only on topics he knew something about, and trying never to strike a pose. A man whose actions consistently displayed serenity, whether refusing to retaliate in kind to low attacks, or acting promptly and boldly when circumstances required such courage.
This has been evident even in the last fortnight, through which he has been making administrative decisions that could so easily have been shirked, and left to his successor; while leaving to his successor what will require consecutive action over much longer stretches of time. He has shown the best, the very best, of the German and Bavarian qualities mixed into his Catholic formation. His successor is bound to find that, whatever they contain, the files will be in good and conscientious order. This is a moral virtue, and remains so however it is parodied or satirized: the cultivation of mind and habits capable of making crisp distinctions, and doing what is necessary without sloth, and without pride.
He has been condemned by the world for many petty things, and many imaginary. He has been condemned even for not being someone else; for knowing himself and knowing his limitations, and making them his strengths.
This is something I've found again and again when the media have condemned some outrageous thing he is supposed to have said; or quoted with exulting approval something even more outrageous. I go to the text and find that he said no such thing. Nor, upon thinking it through, may I condemn him for failing to anticipate the media reaction. For one may successfully locate and disarm a thousand bombs in a thickly-laid minefield. There is no foreseeing number one thousand and one.
I expect, over time, we will learn much more of the history of his papacy — the actual history as opposed to the "first draught." If there has been one most exemplary virtue, allied with a profound insight into the management of human affairs, it has been a function of Pope Benedict's humility. It is the virtue of understanding how much can be achieved when one has no wish to take the credit. So many good things are attempted by politicians, for instance, that go badly wrong because of this moral oversight. They will "do the right thing," but demand to be seen doing it. And that little demand alone unravels all the good. To serve is to serve, interests beyond one's own; one cannot serve the "two gods" of conflicting interests. His Holiness has been, to my view, a most exhilarating example of a man without guile, of a man who long ago tamed the natural propensity towards self-service.
It is the inward history that is being told, a most remarkable narrative in which we are looking at events through what I can only describe as "the medium of holiness."
Fortunately he has left some books behind him; quite a few, and everywhere in them more than is apparent to a first reading. I returned, in recent weeks, to reading some of his Wednesday "talks" or homilies on the holy men and women of Catholic history. At first I thought them as brief and casual as any scheduled weekly "sermon" he must "do," as part of a busy and distracting schedule; as "throwaway" by comparison to his major, longer tracts; as learned and dogmatically sound but nevertheless, passing chatter. They are not. Themes have been carried from week to week, and subtle yet very important points recalled successively from many angles. Returning to them, I found something like an "autobiography of the Church" had been taught: one in which the key events are not the outward ones of history. The major historical events are placed for orientation only in the background. It is the inward history that is being told, a most remarkable narrative in which we are looking at events through what I can only describe as "the medium of holiness." Not, as it were, "through the eyes of the Saints," as simple hagiography; Benedict is instead trying to trace through them the mysterious action of the Holy Spirit. It is not "intellectualism" he has offered. An extraordinary learning is required for it, but put entirely at the service of an act of meditation.
So he is not really going away, and quite apart from the Gethsemane of prayer into which he enters, and the unearthly Life that follows, we are not finished with him yet. He has taught what he will continue teaching: not, for the most part, through formal encyclicals and proclamations but in a kindly, and slightly aloof manner, from out of the chastity in Love — as Father Ratzinger of the Vatican.
David Warren. "Father Ratzinger of the Vatican." Essays in Idleness (March 1, 2013).
This article is reprinted with permission from David Warren.
David Warren is a self-confessed white male, and worse, a Roman Catholic. He pings mostly from the Parkdale district of Toronto, Canada. He has lived for a fairly long time. He was a journalist for much of this time, but also not a journalist for long stretches — in Canada, and in several other countries. None of those were in Africa, South America, or Antarctica. He wrote a reactionary, thrice-weekly column in certain Canadian newspapers; until 2012, when his employer offered him a nice whack of money to "just go away." That money having been expended, he is open to paying gigues. For such, as for other baroque purposes, he may be reached by email through the link here. Please try to keep it civil.Copyright © 2013 David Warren
back to top