The Francis Effect. It
has been huge. One small piece of it is
an uptick in applicants for the priesthood.
The most recent applicant whose psychological testing I completed tied
his interest in reaffirming his faith to seeing Pope Francis when he last came
to the United States. Francis is, as they
say, a rock star – but a weird kind of rock star. His fame is based on being self-effacing rather
than self-aggrandizing. He espouses a
church for and by the people rather than one that serves the priesthood. He emulates the Christ that he, as the head
of the church, represents.
The film The Two Popes centers on a fictional account of a
series of conversations between Pope Benedict XVI
(Played by Anthony
Hopkins) and the future Pope
Francis, Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio (Jonathan Pryce). The conversations did not take place, but the
dramatization allows us to take a peak at the shifts that occurred in the
church as the result of the resignation of Benedict and the election of Francis. This view is a personal perspective, abeit an
informed personal perspective, from the screenwriter, Anthony
McCarten and the director Fernando Meirelles.
This post is also a personal appraisal of that enactment, so
you should know a little bit about me and the perspective that I bring to it. I was raised an Episcopalian and I teach at a
Jesuit
University. Before working at a Jesuit
University, I started to learn about the Catholic Church from a liberal
psychologist friend
who is a Benedictine Hermit. This
was before the time of Francis. My
friend, who was no fan of the Jesuits, was concerned about the direction of the
church. He felt that it was in the hands
of men who were out of touch with what Catholics were truly concerned
about. A
priest in Nicaragua echoed these concerns when Benedict was Pope, saying
that the Pope was surrounded by “Crows” who were cackling to him and
distracting him from the true needs and mission of the church.
The film opens with the election of Benedict. This serves the function of immersing us in
church protocol. For Catholics, and
those who follow the church, my guess is that this feels comfortable or even
comforting as Pope John Paul II, who has died, is mourned and a new Pope is
chosen by election of the Cardinals from among their own ranks. The ritual of the black and
white smoke – black if no new pope has been chosen, white when one finally is –
is explained by newscasters so that, for those in the audience who are new to
the ritual, they can understand it. Benedict
is the “conservative” candidate choice, while Bergoglio is pitted against him,
something that some
sources see as an invented controversy, but it is one that foreshadows the
action. The action is also foreshadowed
by the location of the vote – it takes place, as it always does, in
the Sistine Chapel.
Benedict and Bergoglio are both Cardinals at the beginning
of the film. Much has been made of
Francis being the first Jesuit Pope, and there is a very good reason a Pope has
never been a Jesuit before. To become a
Pope, you have to be a Cardinal, to become a Cardinal, you have to become a
Bishop. To become a bishop, well, you
have to nominated. When Ignatius Loyola
started the Jesuits, he recruited very smart and capable men to serve in his
order, an order that he dedicated to education.
The Church, badly in need of the reformation that Loyola and others were
putting in place – in part in response to the protestant movement started by
Luther - had many priests who were marginally competent. The Pope saw that Loyola had many good
priests in his order and asked Loyola to nominate a few to become Bishops so
that the church could get healthier.
Loyola told the Pope he would get back to him about that.
When Loyola did get back to him, he told the Pope that
giving him priests to become Bishops would not be in the best interests of the
order, and therefore would not be good for the “Greater Glory of God,” or
“Magus”, and he refused. They were Loyola's priests, so the Pope couldn’t override him, but he was furious, and the Jesuits
are the only order that have to swear their fealty to the Pope as part of their
ordination. And they are the only order
that almost never lets one of their priests become a Bishop. It is considered bad form within the order to
promote oneself – one would only get “promoted” to being a Bishop if the head
of the order tapped you – and that tap almost never comes.
After Benedict is installed, we fast forward seven years and
Bergoglio is more and more disaffected with the Church and with his role as a
Cardinal in it. He wants to step down
and sends letters to the Pope requesting the opportunity to talk about this,
but they are never answered. Frustrated,
he books a flight to see Benedict, even though he hasn’t been invited, and then
finds out that Benedict does now want to see him. (The plot, including this bit, from here
forward is apparently all constructed, though most of the historical material about
their lives referred to in the dialogue between the two turns out to be
reasonably factual).
When Bergoglio arrives in Rome, he makes his way to the Pope’s
summer castle and makes his case to retire and return to being a parish
priest. As he does this he talks about
why being an Archbishop feels more and more out of step with his own experience
of what he has been called to do by God. Benedict refuses to accept his
resignation. Benedict explains that his
resignation would be seen as a rebuke of Benedict and all that he stands
for. And we have heard that this is the
case. Bergoglio has a rebuttal,
frequently with a scripture quote attached, to every statement that Benedict
makes about what the Church is becoming.
We get it that Bergoglio is a malcontent and his leaving would be
experienced by many as a moral condemnation of the Pope and of the church as a
whole. But we also resonate with his
plain speaking style and the scripture passages that he quotes.
After an afternoon spent in the garden arguing, Benedict
retires to eat alone, as he always does.
Bergoglio “joins” him by eating alone as well. They then get together for social time. They look for interests they might have in
common. Bergoglio loves soccer, but
Benedict has no taste for it. Finally
Benedict entertains Bergoglio by playing the piano. Benedict catches Bergoglio out by pretending
not to know the cultural significance of the Abbey Road studio where he once
made a recording. There is a sense of
play and a sense of two men getting to know each other. Bergoglio brings the letter with him, but
Benedict ignores it and refuses to talk about it. He does encourage Bergoglio, though, to tell
him about how he came to the Church, and Bergoglio talks about his love for a
woman, Maria, and the fated calling that he heard, and how he joined the
Jesuits and warmly describes his relationship with his formation director.
Meanwhile, Benedict is embroiled in a scandal having to do
with leaked papers about the papal finances.
His chief minister in charge of finances is arrested. Benedict is called back to Rome and Bergoglio
joins him in his helicopter. There is
more playful play between them and some disapproving glances from Bergoglio
about the trappings of wealth and power that go along with being Pope.
On arrival, Benedict asks to meet with Bergoglio in the Sistine
Chapel. This is an incredible place
for them to meet. It is, as we know from
the beginning of the film, the place where Popes are elected. It is also one of the great artworks in
history – Michelangelo’s ceiling is a masterpiece. So much so that it overshadows the great
frescoes on the walls by other giants of the renaissance. And there is a tension between the walls and
the ceiling that mirror the tension between Benedict and Bergoglio.
The frescoes on the walls connect the stories of the Old
Testament to Jesus, clearly making the case for Jesus as God’s chosen
one, the Messiah. They then go on to show Jesus
handing the keys of the kingdom to Peter and from him, the first Pope, to all
the Popes that follow. This is the
pictorial proof that the Pope speaks as the leader of the one “Catholic and
apostolic church” that was referred to in the Nicene creed that I recited as a
child in the Episcopal church.
The ceiling, though,
is a celebration of Human Beings in all of his and her glory as an incarnation of God. And the first man is made, front and center, in God's image. The ceiling speaks to the humanity of every one of us – and points out our failings,
our weaknesses – the things for which we will be damned – and our triumphs –
including the very earthy bodies that are on display. The ceiling is a celebration of the glory of the diverse
individuals we are, each in a powerful reflection of some aspect of the creator.
The ceiling is about the actions of humans, what they have made of
themselves – not what they have inherited.
Benedict calls Bergoglio here to this sacred space to tell
him a secret. A secret that Bergoglio
must keep. The secret is that the Pope
will step down – not unprecedented – it happened 900 years ago – and he would
like Bergoglio to take over for him. Now
this is a grand and, I think, fantasy laden moment. First of all, Benedict can’t appoint his
successor. We started the movie with the
process. But more importantly, Benedict,
before he was Pope, was a man, Ratzinger; a lifelong scholar from Germany, who
is so deeply embedded in an authoritarian mindset that this would be a true
reformation for him as a person.
The movie proposes that Benedict has, indeed, changed. Benedict lets Bergoglio know that he is
planning to step down and, in a reversal of roles, Bergoglio tells him that he
can’t do this. The Papacy is, he says,
bigger than a person. He says it is
Benedict’s job to stay in the Church. He
is mimicking back some of the objections that Benedict was offering him 24
hours earlier. But Benedict is insistent
– and insistent that Bergoglio take on the Papacy himself.
Bergoglio begs off.
He can’t do it. He was the head
of the Jesuits in Argentina during the “Dirty War”, which was a rule by a
ruthless military junta in which many people were “disappeared” – they were
killed and dropped from airplanes flying high enough over the seas that their
remains were destroyed on impact. One of
Bergoglio’s chemistry professors was disappeared, despite his efforts. More personally damning, he renounced two
priests, including his formation director, when they refused to follow his and
the junta’s orders to shut down a collective for the poor. Without the protection of the church, the now
ex-priests were tortured. Bergoglio,
meanwhile, to protect the rest of the Jesuits, was seen as colluding with the
junta.
When Benedict asks about the outcome of all of this,
Bergoglio acknowledges that he has done penance by serving as a parish priest
for ten years, and that his formation director has forgiven him and performed
mass with him, but acknowledges that the other priest has not and he feels
deeply guilty about his actions.
Benedict offers him absolution.
About this time, the tourists come into the chapel. Benedict and Bergoglio beat a hasty retreat
into the sacristy. There they continue
their discussion. Benedict states that
he no longer hears God. He also notes
that he reassigned a known pedophilic priest to new parishes after it was
discovered that he was molesting children in one place – inflicting him, in the
process, on other children and Bergoglio is horrified. Benedict formally asks
Bergoglio to hear his confession. He starts,
but then we don’t hear all of it as his voice fades. There are, I guess, some things we just
shouldn’t hear…
The high point in the film, for me, then occurs. Bergoglio and Benedict emerge from the
sacristy and the gruff and retiring Pope Benedict is immersed in a sea of
people, people who adore him and want to take selfies with him. He embraces this, under the watchful eye of Bergoglio
who protects Benedict from his underlings who would whisk him off to his next
duties. We then see the coronation of
Bergoglio as Francis, who refuses the Red Papal cape and Shoes as he makes his
way to greet the world, saying the carnival is over. A year later, the two Popes are seen together
sharing the joy and agony of watching Germany defeat Argentina in the world
cup.
As much as I think this film does not portray the truth of
what happened between Benedict and Bergoglio, it does portray what should have
happened. And it portrays a shift in an
institution that has seemed hopelessly mired in institutional muck and
completely divorced from the congregation it was created to serve. It portrays a sea change – but I think that
institutional inertia is likely to turn that into a bit of a shift rather than an about face. We will see how long one man’s vision can
inform the formation of an institution.
I think the film offers a tremendously charitable view of
Benedict. It portrays him as someone who
is aware of his shortcomings – and is able to not only acknowledge them but to
embrace someone with a seemingly opposite view – but one that he can see is
based on a devout and true vision of the church – one that he, an isolated and
very smart boy – was never able to achieve within himself or the church he shepherded,
but one that he, too, would like to participate in. But Benedict did not believe he would change
his own spots to be the leader – someone else would have to lead with a vision
that he acknowledged to be superior but could not live.
If this is anything like what happened, then Benedict
belongs in that rare and small class of people – a class that Dora
Maria Tellez in Nicaragua pointed out includes George Washington and Nelson
Mandela – people who worked hard to acquire power and then worked equally hard
to walk away from it. A very small class of people who are able to see the office as greater than themselves. Based on this film, Benedict is every bit the leader that Francis
is. Of course, it is also the case that
Benedict was embroiled in scandal and needed to get himself and the Church out
from under it. There may have been no
other way to do that than to resign. But
in so far as even a part of him realized the opportunity to have a leader
like Bergoglio take the reins of the institution is true, that is a testament
to a very impressive legacy – one that also includes all of those things that
he confessed to and that we couldn’t hear – and those that we could.
This film, then, is a story not just of two Popes, but of
two remarkable men. Men who have worked
to achieve power, but also recognize that the purpose of the power is for a
greater good – and that the path towards that good is one that can best be trod
by following in the footsteps of Christ, the person from whom they have inherited the keys. Together they are portrayed as uniting the
seemingly disparate depictions of the Sistine chapel. They respect the legacy that they together
share enough to have it reflect what it is that they and the congregations they
lead can aspire to becoming. Even given
that the path towards this action is certainly less clear than the movie
portrays it to be, this vision should give us pause – and hope – that we can,
at least for moments, transcend those forces that would prevent us becoming who
we might be.
The film is also based, from a psychoanalytic perspective then, on the ability of an ego ideal - a beacon of truth - to keep us oriented. Though Benedict and Bergoglio have very different visions of the Church, they share a love of God - and of the idealized Son of God. It is this idealized vision - one that is depicted perhaps most movingly on the front wall of the Sistine Chapel, in the form of Christ separating the sinners from the saints in the Last Judgement, that perhaps brings these men together. They are, like all of us, fallen. They have committed not just small sins, but big ones in the process of navigating their lives. These sins have been shaped by who they are and have shaped who they have become. And yet, this movie maintains, it is possible for them - and by inference us - to rise above our ourselves - above who it is that we have been - and to radically revision ourselves. Though the analyst in me thinks that process is more complex and difficult than the one depicted here, there is something miraculous about the power of the ideal to move us.
The film is also based, from a psychoanalytic perspective then, on the ability of an ego ideal - a beacon of truth - to keep us oriented. Though Benedict and Bergoglio have very different visions of the Church, they share a love of God - and of the idealized Son of God. It is this idealized vision - one that is depicted perhaps most movingly on the front wall of the Sistine Chapel, in the form of Christ separating the sinners from the saints in the Last Judgement, that perhaps brings these men together. They are, like all of us, fallen. They have committed not just small sins, but big ones in the process of navigating their lives. These sins have been shaped by who they are and have shaped who they have become. And yet, this movie maintains, it is possible for them - and by inference us - to rise above our ourselves - above who it is that we have been - and to radically revision ourselves. Though the analyst in me thinks that process is more complex and difficult than the one depicted here, there is something miraculous about the power of the ideal to move us.
To access a narrative description of other posts on this site, link here. For a subject based index, link here.
To subscribe to posts (which occur 2-3 times per month), just enter your email in the subscribe by email box to the right of the text.
No comments:
Post a Comment