Rolling Stoned on Pope Francis, Part I

In its subtitle, Rolling Stoned calls Francis’s papacy a “gentle revolution.” One naturally wonders whether it has in mind a play on “velvet revolution.” The Velvet Revolution took place in Czechoslovakia in 1989, when the Communists peacefully ceded power back to the Czechs. Mark Binelli, who pens the long piece, seems to be suggesting that Francis’s papacy represents a similar change in ideology—not from the bad old days of the Communists, but from the bad old days of Benedict XVI. That is a common delusion among liberals; so much so, that Stoned alludes to Bob Dylan in the title and proclaims, with acid certitude: “The Times They Are A-Changin.'” But no: The times, they are a-not.

COME ON! WRITERS AND CRITICS WHO PROPHESY WITH YOUR PEN

By now, dear reader, you have probably heard that Pope Francis made the cover of still another pop culture magazine. The article, which is long and boorish and blind, is bent to advance a standard theme: that the new pope is a fuzzy and progressive-leaning maverick and will stand Church teaching on its head; whereas, the old pope, the evil Benedict, was a sour old man who beat us all over the pate with the hammer of dogma. That is a caricature, and it belies the facts. But Mr. Binelli will insist upon this bluebird land over the liberal rainbow where Jesuit popes smash all the old dogmas; even if on the way he must rely upon non-truth, and half-truth, and no small amount of tired old myth and stereotype about the Catholic Church.

And it is for that reason that I want to take the time, over a short series of posts, to go through the Stoned cover story paragraph by paragraph. Perhaps by doing so we shall turn the rough places plain and the crooked places straight.

Watch closely how Mr. Binelli begins:

Up close, Pope Francis, the 266th vicar of Jesus Christ on earth, a man whose obvious humility[;] empathy[;] and, above all, devotion to the economically disenfranchised has come to feel perfectly suited to our times, looks stouter than on television. Having famously dispensed with the more flamboyant papal accessories, he’s also surprisingly stylish, today wearing a double-breasted white overcoat, white scarf[,] and slightly creamier cassock, all impeccably tailored.

Rolling Stoned‘s house style would benefit from the Oxford comma, but that’s not what I want to point out here. Did you catch the remarkable disjunction in all of that wind? What begins as praise of Francis’s “humility” ends as a praise of his “stylish” dress. (And the pope is a man who wears the same plain white habit every day.) Remember when Benedict XVI was sneered at for having the presumption to wear stylish red shoes by Prada? (See this piece of snark from New York Mag for an example. In truth—lo!—they weren’t by Prada but by a local streetside cobbler.) But now that we have Francis, and he is somehow supposed to change Church teaching to line up with our own politics, stylishness is humble and back in fashion.

All this is a small point, but Stoned means to set a context for what is to come. What Mr. Binelli says about Francis we are meant to understand as a fresh contrast to “dour” old Benedict. (That will become evident as we continue reading the article; if we read the article.) Francis, says Mr. Binelli, has “obvious humility”; Benedict, the subtext goes, was a self-righteous old sonuvabitch. Francis has “empathy”; Benedict, the subtext goes, repeatedly snubbed and stomped on the downtrodden. Francis is devoted to the poor; Benedict, the subtext goes, regularly feted the Koch brothers while Lazarus sat hungry in St. Peter’s Square. There is the added subtext that humility, empathy, and concern for the poor are somehow new discoveries in Catholicism.

Perhaps you are already thinking that I am reading too much into all of this. But see what instantly follows in Mr. Binelli’s article.

The topic of Francis’s catechesis, or teaching, is Judgment Day, though true to form, he does not try to conjure images of fire and brimstone.

[No, but in the very same general audience, on December 11, the pope did say that judgment is real and that how we respond to Christ matters.]

His predecessor, Benedict XVI, speaking on the topic, once said, “Today, we are used to thinking: ‘What is sin? God is great, he understands us, so sin does not count; in the end God will be good toward all.’ It’s a nice hope. But there is justice, and there is real blame.”

See, I told you that contrast with mean old Benedict was coming. Do not doubt: Any time the secular media praises something in Francis, they mean for us to understand that Benedict was somehow the opposite. Mr. Binelli’s entire article is an exercise in bringing that subtext out into the open.

Francis, 77, by contrast, [There you are.] implores the crowd to think of the prospect of meeting one’s maker as something to look forward to, like a wedding, where Jesus and all the saints in heaven will be waiting with open arms.

Without regard for how we have lived or what we have done? We may live as we please and do as we wish? Really? Is that what the pope said, or what he meant?

DON’T SPEAK TOO SOON, FOR THE WHEEL’S STILL IN SPIN

Now, there are several wild untruths in all of this. In the first place, Mr. Binelli quotes the above passage from Francis as though Francis never talks about sin or judgment, like the wicked Benedict did; and that is simply not true. In fact, it has often been noted that the current pope speaks about the Devil and spiritual warfare more than Benedict XVI ever did (as noted, for example, here). To get a taste of that, look at the pope’s words from a papal morning Mass of October 11:

We do not have a right to simplify the matter, as if to say all of these [people whom Jesus healed] were not possessed, [that they were just] mentally ill. No! The presence of the Devil is on the very first page of the Bible, and the Bible ends with the presence of the Devil.

[What hellfire is this, and what brimstone?]

Today’s Gospel begins with the Devil being cast out and ends with the Devil coming back. St. Peter said, “It’s like a fierce lion that circles us.” It is like that. … Some may say, but Fr., you’re too old-fashioned, you’re frightening us with these things. No, it’s not me! It is the Gospel! And these are not lies; it is the word of the Lord. Let us ask the Lord for the grace to take these things seriously. He came to fight for our salvation. He won against the Devil. Please, let’s not do business with the Devil. He wants to come back home, to take possession. … Don’t accept relativism, be vigilant!

Wait! did Francis just say that relativism was of the Devil? Did he just say that there are absolute truths that are unchangeable and we must live accordingly, and that anything else constitutes a form of demonic possession? Why, that sounds so … medieval! That sounds positively like … Benedict!

If Francis talks about wedding days, he does not do so without also talking about demonic possession and lions that circle us. He does not do so without also warning us, fairly sternly, to resist the Devil. The pope clearly wants us to arrive at the wedding feast, but he is conscious that there are snares along the way and not necessarily all of us will get there. Otherwise, there would be no reason for him to plead with us so strongly to resist relativism.

And what of Benedict? Are we to believe this stereotype that all he ever did was talk about the judgment of God and punishment for sin? What, then, should we make of these words from one of the pope’s general audiences:

[T]he ecclesial community is invited never to lose hope, but to remain firm in the belief that the apparent omnipotence of the Evil One in fact comes up against the true omnipotence, that of God. … There is an important point for us too: As Christians we can never be pessimists. … Prayer, above all, educates us to see the signs of God, His presence, and His action; or rather, it educates us to become lights of goodness. … God is not oblivious to our prayers. … When faced with evil we often have the sensation that we can do nothing, but our prayers are in fact the first and most effective response we can give. They strengthen our daily commitment to goodness.

Just as Francis does not speak of the wedding feast without also speaking of spiritual warfare, so Benedict does not talk about judgment without also telling us of the power of prayer to overcome evil and lead us to God.

DON’T CRITICIZE WHAT YOU CAN’T UNDERSTAND

The difficulty Mr. Binelli seems to be having is in a false dichotomy, namely this: that either you believe in the mercy of God or you believe in the justice of God. Thus he sets the two in contrast to each other: This pope talks about mercy, while that pope talked about judgment. As if Christ himself did not constantly talk to us about both. Indeed, not only is that a false reading of both Francis and Benedict, but it is also a misunderstanding of God Himself. God is both infinitely merciful and infinitely just, and neither His mercy nor His justice can fail. There is indeed a mystery in that; and, at heart, it is beyond our human ability to fully comprehend truth so high. But Mr. Binelli ought at least to acknowledge the reality of the mystery if he is to understand the faith that Francis is teaching and why he is not telling us anything new.

We have been told these things for two thousand years, but we are (with Thomas Aquinas) dumb oxen and need to be told every day. Perhaps the reason what Francis says is so startling is not because it is new but because it is old. But what Benedict said startles too. And both warn us about the reality of evil and judgment precisely so that we can get to the wedding feast. Christ, they both know, wants to be able to welcome us all home. But He is not going to do so just because. Benedict does not deny Christ’s mercy, and Francis does not guarantee it for any particular person. There is spiritual warfare we must go through first. Francis tells us about the wedding feast so we may desire it enough to battle the Devil and give up our evil ways. He is not saying, “No,don’t worry, Heaven will fling its doors open to all.” He wants us to desire Heaven, but he does not promise us Heaven.

At the same time, Francis—like Benedict himself, who told us “we can never be pessimistic”—understands that despair is of the Devil and we must fight against it. So again he tells us of the wedding feast, in the same way and for the same reason as Benedict reassures us of the power of prayer. Spiritual warfare does not mean going about with our heads hung in gloom: Both Francis and Benedict tell us this. And there is no contrast, Mr. Binelli: It is the same message from both popes.

The series continues here.

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