In real life, two popes is one pope too many
Old celibate men arguing the imperative of a sexless life.
But when one of them carries the unusual, indeed unprecedented title of pope emeritus, the Catholic Church of course takes notice. And the church is in a tizzy, vestments in a knot. When Benedict XVI, now 92 years old, took the stunning decision in 2013 to “retire” from the papacy — something that hadn’t been done in six centuries — he pledged his obedience to the new pope and vowed to remain “hidden from the world.” He’s the pope passim, the pope mothballed in the attic of the Vatican. Actually, a renovated apartment inside a Vatican monastery.
Except he’s not stayed in the shadows. Last weekend, excerpts from a book appeared with Benedict as the co-author in which the one-time powerful prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith — wielder of the doctrinal whip — argues the necessity of celibacy in the priesthood. “The ability to renounce marriage in order to place oneself fully at the disposal of the Lord has become a criterion for priestly ministry,” Benedict writes in an excerpt published by French newspaper Le Figaro.
Which normally wouldn’t be a controversial assertion. The church has cleaved to clerical celibacy since the 11th century, although it only formally became part of canon law in 1917.
Dusty archaic rules that have contributed to an acute dwindling of ordinations, such that in some parts of the world months pass between masses until a have-Bible-will-travel itinerant priest shows up for the sporadic gig.
It’s believed the current pope, the real pope — because there can only be one bishop of Rome extant — might be more amenable to allowing priests to marry, which is already permitted in the Eastern Orthodox wing of the church and for Anglican priests who convert to Catholicism.
A push for more exceptions was made by bishops at a Rome meeting last year, specifically for a crisis of clergy shortage in the remote Amazon. It’s believed the more progressive Pope Francis, who’s described clerical celibacy as a “gift” to the Church, is considering whether to accept the bishops’ recommendation.
But Benedict has pushed himself into the debate, very much pleasing traditionalists in the Vatican who disapprove of Francis’s liberalizing reforms, long for orthodox purity and see in his predecessor an agent of reactionary conservatism around whom to rally.
It’s not quite a schism, not yet. But “From the Depths of Our Hearts,” which is set to hit bookshelves in English next month, has already further polarized the duelling factions and confused Catholics who are no longer entirely sure who’s calling the shots.
Unlike Pope Celestine V, who resigned in 1294 after a mere five months, and was thereafter imprisoned by his successor, Boniface VIII, in order to prevent a potential reinstallation, Benedict has been indulged by Francis. He was permitted to give himself the title of pope emeritus and still wears the white cassock of a pontiff. He weighs in occasionally on sensitive matters, such as the release last April of a 6,000-word letter on clerical sexual abuse, blaming the scandal on an explosion of sexual permissiveness in the 1960s. Francis has made it clear the predatory priests are responsible for their own sins and the crimes had festered because some bishops ignored the accusations.
The implications of Benedict inserting himself into the celibacy debate are grave because of a perceived crack in Vatican authority and because celibacy is arguably the most controversial item on Francis’s papal agenda. Many view it as a direct challenge to the current pope, who has thus far stayed out of the pope-versus-pope controversy.
But the blowback was so intense that on Wednesday Benedict apparently asked the publisher to remove his name from the book, although the chapter he’s written will still be included. The San Franciscobased English publisher has refused to back down, insisting in a statement that the book is a co-authored undertaking. The other author is Cardinal Robert Sarah of Guinea, a staunch conservative promoted by many as a potential pope, the first from Africa. Of course, a pope emeritus on the cover would probably sell more books than a cardinal.
Sarah, who had been previously rebuked by Francis for championing traditional styles of worship, has been accused of manipulating the enfeebled Benedict, which he adamantly denies.
In recent days, he produced letters from Benedict to support his insistence that the former pope had written the chapter text and had endorsed its publication as a book. Sarah then released a quote from his correspondence with Benedict: “I imagine that you might think your reflections might not be opportune because of the polemics they might provoke in newspapers, but I am convinced that the whole church needs this gift, which could be published around Christmas or the start of 2020.”
Following conversations with Francis’s private secretary, Sarah tweeted, “Considering the polemics provoked by the publication of the book ‘From the Depths of Our Hearts,’ it has been decided that the author of the book in future publications will be: Cardinal Sarah, with the contribution of Benedict XVI. However, the complete text will remain absolutely unchanged.”
Does that change anything? Probably not. Benedict can’t take back what he’s written, nor can the underlying struggle for sway within the Vatican be deleted. It’s inflamed opposing factions and brought the ideological wrangle to the surface for a fascinated public.
For entertainment value, it matches the Oscar-nominated film “The Two Popes,” which imagines Francis and Benedict sparring in a theological debate over the future of the church.
That’s make-believe. The two men hardly knew each other.
What’s not make-believe is what insiders and commentators had warned: Two popes coexisting, living side by side at the Vatican, is one too many.
Benedict was the iron fist and discipliner-in-chief of church orthodoxy for decades. He cited advancing age and failing health as reasons for retiring. But he also inherited the sex abuse scandal and, in his abbreviated tenure, the Vatican Bank was awash in financial scandal.
Benedict pined for seclusion and quiet prayer, he said. But clearly, he doesn’t do quiet well. An old man who presumably knows nothing, or very little, about sexual intimacy, still shaking his fist at the yearnings of the flesh.
An implied antipope and antithesis of the humble, forward-looking Francis.
This past week, Francis appointed the first woman ever to a senior role in the church — a 66-year-old Italian lawyer named undersecretary of state, responsible for co-ordinating the Holy See’s relations with groups including the United Nations.
Small step. Long stride.