Thoughts in the interim between the death of Pope Francis and the Conclave
Pope Francis rests in peace. It matters little whether his worn-out body rests in St. Peter’s Basilica or in that of St. Mary Major or in a humble niche in any Rome cemetery.
May he rest in peace, in the deep peace of Mother Earth, in the eternal creative peace that sustains and moves the eternal universe.
It was too painful and inhumane to see him being shamelessly displayed, urbi et orbi, in that physical state of pain and suffocation, and to hear from supposedly knowledgeable and sincere sources that he still had a long pontificate ahead of him to crown the great project of his Franciscan ecclesiastical reform. All of this reflected the cruelty of a system that was anachronistic and unsustainable in equal measure, inflexible and oblivious to the pain and limitations of one man, Jorge Bergoglio, an elderly, suffering man. The news of his death was, for me, as I think for many, a real relief.
But the show went on. It’s still going on. After the funeral pomp, the customary ecclesiastical eulogies, the political summits on the side, and the endless media discussions ranging from banality to morbid curiosity, the Catholic system takes flight once again, like the phoenix rising from its own ashes. While in our knowledge-based and rapidly changing societies the number of practising Catholics is falling by one percentage point per year, while uncertainty and global threats increase, while Homo sapiens seems determined to give up its potential for vital wisdom, while artificial intelligence is acquiring disturbing powers (for whose benefit?) at a dizzying pace, the Catholic system of absolute, hierarchical, male papacy locks itself away in a Conclave. And this is all in the name of the free and subversive prophet Jesus, in the name of the transforming Spirit that inspired him, of the vital Breath that moved him.
Under clerical lock and key, the Conclave clearly illustrates the absurdity of the papacy and the entire Catholic institution that supports it. The papacy, like the Conclave, is a huge rigmarole involving goodwill, ancestral beliefs and prejudices, conflicting interests and rival ambitions for power. A huge vicious circle that imprisons the Gospel. As a system founded upon the absolute power of a single person, the papacy is a huge contradiction in terms, since all power is relative to another power, so that no one can exercise absolute power. The papacy agonises between the bars of absolute desire and absolute inability.
Pope Francis, who rests in peace, was unable to unravel this contradiction. My assessment of his pontificate can be summed up in that one word: contradiction. Perhaps he wanted to radically reform the pyramid system, but he was unable to do so. Perhaps it was something he could not even really want. This is not a criticism, but merely an observation of the closed, contradictory system in which he found himself trapped. Here are a few significant examples. Twelve years ago, at sunset on the day of his election, bowing before the crowd in St. Peter’s Square, he said: “Before I bless you, I want you to ask God to bless me.” He could simply have said: “Before I bless you, I want you to bless me.” From day one, he referred to himself as the “Bishop of Rome” and showed himself to be simple and affable, but he never ceased to exercise strong authority over all the Churches. His socio-economic and political message was courageous and subversive, but his theology (doctrine about God, Jesus, “redemption”, human beings, morality in matters such as sexuality, euthanasia, abortion, etc.) was very conservative. He invited people to “welcome” LGTBIQ+ individuals “with mercy”, but pathologised their condition and condemned their sexual behaviour as sinful (and a few months ago he described doctors who assist in abortions as “hired killers”). He approved the blessing of same-sex couples, but on condition that it took place in private, without any liturgy or ritual, as if in secret. He exalted the figure of women and emphasised their qualities, entrusting them with high ecclesiastical functions: undersecretary of the last synod on synodality, prefect of the Dicastery on Religious Life, Governor of the Vatican City…; but he clearly stated, from start to finish, that women could not exercise any “ordained” or “sacred” ministry (diaconate, priesthood, episcopate), but only subordinate “lay” ministries, on the grounds that women constitutively, by divine will, lack the power to represent Jesus and preside over the Eucharist or grant absolution. He warned repeatedly against clericalism, but after 12 years and four synods, not by a single iota had he changed any article of Canon Law that would enable patriarchal clericalism to be truly suppressed in the present or the future: clericalism that divides the Church into clergy and laity, seriously marginalises women and is the cornerstone of the papacy.
Well, now that Pope Francis’ pontificate has come to an end, whether due to a lack of will or real power on his part, the papacy, with its absolute, divine, contradictory power, remains completely intact. And Francis, like all popes, has been held hostage by his papacy. He was human, with all the contradictions of humanity. What is not human is the papacy that has been in place for 1,000 years, reinforced by Trent (16th century) and endowed by the First Vatican Council (19th century), by dogmatic definition, with full power of jurisdiction over all the churches, and infallibility of the pope in his teachings ex cathedra. This papacy cannot be reformed, only abolished, in the name of humankind and the Church. In the name of Jesus, the liberating jubilee he proclaimed, the open commensality he practised, the healing energy he emanated, the universal brotherhood and sisterhood he dreamed of and embodied.
José Arregi, Aizarna (Basque Country), 29 April, 2025.
www.josearregi.com
Translated by Sarah J. Turtle