He has reached an age that most pope's never see — Francis, head of the Roman Catholic Church since 2013, turns 85 this Friday. Still, he's making travel plans, and embarking on a path of reform and renewal of the Church from within that will take years, decades to complete. Every step a new beginning.
But what does it all mean? The topic that has overshadowed everything about this papacy remains the Church's global sex scandals, in which young children were abused by clerics. With these scandals goes a loss of trust — and that at an institution built on belief and trust. Francis promised a full investigation of the scandal and vowed a "zero tolerance" policy.
Yet more often than not, his words were grander than his gestures. That is all part of a system in which the pope is the sole prosecutor and judge while also acting as auditor, role model, boss and confidant.
Sometimes subversive
Francis has always been one to criticize clericalism, patriarchal arrogance and pretensions of power. His actions often seem like a caricature of his diminishing Church. A pope is — when the Church gets lucky — a prophetic figure. But in far too many of Francis' speeches you initially think: "Now he's doing something!" Yet then you sense his intention: "Do it already …" That is not enough. It's too little.
All the while, Francis stands at the head of and is caught in the middle of an organization steeped in crisis — and it reaches all the way to the College of Cardinals who will eventually elect his successor. A quick look at the three German cardinals currently seated among 120 colleagues says a lot: One, Munich's Cardinal Marx (age 68), unexpectedly offered his resignation this May and has cut a pale figure ever since. Another, Cardinal Woelki (65), is so controversial in his Archdiocese of Cologne that parishioners there are leaving the Church in droves and the pope has sent him on hiatus. And the third, Cardinal Müller (73), loses himself in US-style conspiracy theories, populism and anti-papal tirades. Certain circles seem to want the Church more feudal again, displaying contempt for questions of basic rights.
Sure — Francis sounds different in his criticism, almost contrary and sometimes even subversive. He encourages Catholics to enthusiastically forge ahead at the grass roots level. Yet, in the end, he also reminds everyone that the Catholic Church is not a democracy.
The old man and the Holy See
Francis' strongest moments come when he directly engages with people, especially those who are marginalized. He seeks to give them a face and to restore their dignity — migrants, refugees, the homeless, ostracized, the physically and mentally weak. This man, who never fails to rail against the "globalization of indifference," seems indifferent to no one. That is more than a protest against false standards. Francis stands for a different image of the Church. One of the most iconic pictures of his entire papacy remains that of his entreaties during the global coronavirus pandemic. Pope Francis at an entirely empty Saint Peter's Square in March 2020 — a man alone in prayer, pleading with his god, the image of Job in his moment of need. Francis, pastor of the world. The old man and the Holy See.
Yet none of that can hide the fact that time is running out for this pope. His predecessor Benedict, now 94, retired at age 85. And Francis? When he had to undergo surgery this summer it was weeks before he acknowledged the seriousness of the operation. Still, the Argentine divulged even that information in his typically earnest yet good-natured and chatty style. At 85, Pope Francis represents a great, difficult and strange papacy in a structurally decaying Church.
This article was translated from German by Jon Shelton