Seminarian
Special to Bellarmine Today
As a seminarian studying in Rome, I was blessed to be here for the election of Pope Francis. Since then I have continued to feel a great excitement and pride. Now all the world will know what alumni of Jesuit schools throughout the world have long known: the Ignatian charism has so much to offer the Church and the world. And to us alumni, the election of Pope Francis offers a distinct gift: an opportunity to know even better the riches of this charism.
Rome is a place where ecclesial matters are routine; but during a conclave, the city explodes with anticipation. In February, a sleepy rainy city was jolted alive with the news of Pope Benedict's renunciation. Before that announcement seminarians could stroll across St. Peter's piazza in clerical dress unnoticed; the day after we could barely get across from one side to the other between manic journalists and throngs of pilgrims. Every taxi driver, grocer, and café barista had an opinion about who the next Pope could be (they all seemed to think a pope from the United States would be best!). Even in the halls of my own seminary, the Pontifical North American College, after a few days the experience of passing cardinals, journalists, and television news anchors had become commonplace. Once the conclave began, St. Peter's piazza ebbed and flowed from nearly full to overflowing. Each opportunity to wait in St. Peter's piazza with a crowd of nervous thousands to see the smoke appear from the roof of the Sistine chapel was an exercise in the rhythms of expectation: "Surely they won't elect a pope so soon?" you say to a perfect stranger standing next to you. "But the last ballot happened so quick, the smoke came earlier than expected. Perhaps this one will be it!"
After an inconclusive fourth ballot in the afternoon of the second day, the anxiety was determinative. At this point, no one was leaving their spot. The piazza was full, and yet somehow people kept pressing in. With darkness having fallen, St. Peter's was brilliant from powerful floodlights, while rain fell steadily on thousands of umbrellas. At 7.06pm a voice in the crowd cried out, "fumo bianco!" There was no mistaking it: billows of white smoke surrounded the roof of the Sistine chapel. Immediately the crowd surged forward, collapsing what little comfortable distance between persons had remained. Nearly an hour later, the rain had stopped, and the message we had anticipated arrived from the central window: we had a pope. When Cardinal Tauran spoke the name "Bergoglio," a gasp arose from the crowd—this wasn't a name anyone had been mentioning. I was as surprised as anyone else—I had thought Cardinal Bergoglio too old at 76 to even have a chance. But more amazingly—they picked a Jesuit to be pope! And then came the announcement of his name: Francis! The greatest saint since apostolic times, a man whom God had asked to rebuild his Church, a figure adored by Italians. A few moments later, before he blessed the crowd, he asked the people gathered, in unprecedented fashion, to pray for him during a moment of silence.
Nearly a month later, I'm amazed how one man so quickly changed the spin cycle from doom and gloom to joy and hope. Every day it seemed there was a new story about some small but profound gesture of simplicity, humility, or transparency. I have been in and out of Rome for thirteen years now, and have never seen such audiences packing the piazza and the streets around the Vatican to full capacity during the pope's audiences. During Holy Week, Pope Francis celebrated Holy Thursday liturgy at a youth penitentiary, washing the feet of both Christian and Muslim men and women. His homilies have resounded even beyond Catholic circles, with their emphases on going out of oneself to reach those on the outskirts, of the need for the Church to not remain satisfied and shut in within itself, of the importance of mercy and hope. In truth, there has been little that is novel in what Pope Francis has said, at least for those who have noticed the words of previous popes. But isn't that exactly the point? It's almost as if, in recent years, all anyone paid attention to was the scandals—how could one not? Yet somehow the Holy Spirit found an unlikely candidate who could make the world pay attention to something else—not to the institutions and hierarchy of the Church, which should never be self-referential—but to the newness and freshness of the Gospel itself. Best of all, Pope Francis seems to understand that even in a world of sound bites, actions speak the loudest. How clearly our Holy Father has proclaimed the Gospel with his actions! It's a page right out of St. Ignatius's Spiritual Exercises: "love ought to manifest itself in deeds rather than in words."
What is the significance of having (at last!) a Jesuit pope? At the least it means the Ignatian charism will influence his teaching and ministry. Pope Francis was for many years novice master and then provincial, the two most important posts in the Society of Jesus—he knows that charism well. Already we can recognize in his teaching the characteristic themes of service, of generosity, of the magis. But what bears closer attention is another theme dear to the heart of this pope: an ecclesial devotion. Notably, one of Pope Francis's first official acts after taking office was sending a reply to an initial message of congratulations from the General of the Society of Jesus. Pope Francis thanked the Society for their prayers; but he also thanked them for their "total willingness to continue serving the Church and the Vicar of Christ unconditionally." He then referenced the charism of St. Ignatius, "the witness of a life dedicated without reserve to serving the Church, Bride of Christ."
I believe that in the example of Pope Francis, we alumni of Jesuit schools throughout the world have received an occasion to understand once again how the Ignatian charism is a particular way of living our faith, a way perhaps very suited to a world that needs to have the Gospel re-proposed to it first in actions of loving service even before able words. It is a way that is at the same time always born from and impelled toward an ecclesial reality. St. Ignatius himself manifestly loved that visible Church which was often scandalous in his time. Pope Francis has done the same throughout his life as a Jesuit and priest. We have a pope today who can ably read the signs of the times, and has begun to renew the Church by his witness of humility, mercy, and service. His example has rendered the words which have accompanied those actions more powerful, and no doubt will make those actions he will have to take in the future (not all of which will be popular or photogenic) more transparent in their purpose. Our new pope is, like St. Ignatius was, a man on fire with love for God, and who has experienced the gracious mercy of the gift of his Son. This is the reason for my joy: God continues to faithfully renew his Church. Pray that Pope Francis be a faithful instrument of that renewal.
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