17 words
“If we let ourselves be drawn into these discussions, the Church is then identified with certain commandments or prohibitions; we give the impression that we are moralists with a few somewhat antiquated convictions, and not even a hint of the true greatness of the faith appears. I therefore consider it essential always to highlight the greatness of our faith—a commitment from which we must not allow such situations to divert us.”
The big irony is that the above quote didn’t come from Pope Francis. The shocking part is in knowing that it was his predecessor, Benedict XVI, who made that statement.
Much has been said by this time about Francis’ supposed “shaking off” of “the traditional church of his predecessors.” The world’s media thought the Pope was changing the Church’s stand on the controversial issues of our day, including abortion. That proposition was greeted in Twitter with exhilaration. One broadsheet writer, claiming to read the Pope’s mind, assumed that the Pope was actually addressing, nay, chastising, the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of the Philippines. Suffice it to say that the provocation the Pope made is now legendary.
We thought Francis had taken the world by storm in that interview with his Jesuit confrere Antonio Spadaro. It appears now that the storm, if any, was fiercer in the realm of historical amnesia coupled with our pervading sense of relativism. Popes have always been misquoted. Of recent memory was Benedict XVI in an interview he gave in Africa where he was reported to have said that the Church now condones condom use as an effective method of stemming the tide of HIV. That is not what he said, of course.
None of us seem to remember that Francis was not the first to say what he was presumed to have said in that interview with Spadaro. Let me quote now in full what Benedict XVI, now identified as his “traditional predecessor,” said on Nov. 9, 2006, in his address to the bishops of Switzerland. The statement was actually posted promptly by the Vatican for international media consumption.
“I remember, when I used to go to Germany in the 1980s and ’90s, that I was asked to give interviews and I always knew the questions in advance. They concerned the ordination of women, contraception, abortion and other such constantly recurring problems.
“If we let ourselves be drawn into these discussions, the Church is then identified with certain commandments or prohibitions; we give the impression that we are moralists with a few somewhat antiquated convictions, and not even a hint of the true greatness of the faith appears. I therefore consider it essential always to highlight the greatness of our faith—a commitment from which we must not allow such situations to divert us.”
Reading Benedict now gives us the uncanny feeling that he sounds like Francis. Even then, both were not the first to have said that. In fact, someone who spoke to the first-century world and who went by the name of Saul of Tarsus, a.k.a. St. Paul the Apostle, may have been the first to issue such statement. The usual problem, however, in reading his letter to the Corinthians is how it is usually situated in the context of marital and romantic love. The famous discourse on love, 1 Corinthians 13, is a favorite passage in weddings.
“If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.”
One humbling lesson from Francis, Benedict and Paul is addressed—this, however, we can be sure of—to those who have a singular obsession on doctrine, on debate as against dialogue. Here I am particularly reminded of the man who fights with everyone who falls short of his own impressive stock knowledge of Catholic doctrine. Because he comes off as an antagonist (and that is because he is merely a moralist), he has gained many enemies. He is a noisy gong and a clanging cymbal. He has not known how to love. He has missed the true greatness of his faith.
Needless to say then that we need to read the entire interview. By entire, we mean all the 12,000+ words as against the 17 words (only) that have been popularized (“We cannot insist only on issues related to abortion, gay marriage, and the use of contraceptive methods”).
Then the common advice is to say that we need to put Francis’ words into context. Where do they lie in the Church’s deposit of faith? By the way, on Sept. 20, the day after the interview saw print in La Civiltà Cattolica, the Italian Jesuit journal, Francis addressed a gathering of Catholic gynecologists, where he said: “In all its phases and at every age, human life is always sacred and always of quality. And not as a matter of faith, but of reason and science!” So much so for abortion now being condoned by the Vatican.
Reading papal statements from mass media coverage requires sterner stuff.
The interview generated so much confusion. That there is confusion is clear.
