Pontificating

I was raised Catholic. Today, I'm an actual, practicing, Catholic. In some circles, I'm not near Catholic enough. I'm not sure where the grading scale is or who is the "decider" of our quantity or quality of Catholicism. I don't worry about it too much.  The Arch Mother, who raised money to build their parish church, worked for Catholic Charities, and hosted half the Archdiocese in their home, never had time for people who wanted to "judge" your level of faith.

I know who I am and what I believe. But I do understand that the Catholic church is dealing with an identity crisis - too many people associate it with scandal and decadence and not enough with social service and faith. 

Yesterday when it was announced that white smoke was drifting above the Vatican in Rome, I had an emotional response.  Honestly, a startling response. I stopped my car and sat quietly in a parking lot listening to the media reports. For me, it was a stark reminder of how deeply I care about my faith and my church family.

When the kids got home from school, we concluded it would be fun to make Argentinian food in honor of Pope Francis for dinner. Great!  Except while I love to cook - Latin influenced food has not been a big part of my repertoire (ANY part of my repertoire).

I Googled some recipes, decided that I didn't have time to reinvent the wheel and it was a bright, sunny, March afternoon (to my Minnesotan mind it looked warm).  So the four kids and I grabbed our coats, scooters and walked to the grocery story.  My thought was that while last minute Argentinian food was probably unreasonable at the end of my busy day, we could at least find some good Latin options.

No dice.  Actually, no Chimichurri. Our local grocery store, considers tacos and salsa to be the extent of their Latin foods. Maybe it's silly, but I was shocked.  Scratch that. Decided we'd go home and watch the news coverage of the new Pope while we ate our decidedly NOT Latin dinner.

Hmmm. By 6:15 pm, the bright, March afternoon was significantly chillier. The return mile from the grocery store was a lot quieter and significantly quicker.  If we could have cut through people's yards, we would have.

Arrive home! Turn on TV! American Idol? Survivor? No pope. Damn our cable free household! So I grab my laptop determined to make the kids see how fascinating the election of a new pope can be (and hoping to distract them from the slow turn towards exhausted meltdown that mom is taking - might I mention that I washed all the sheets in the house and had yet to return them to their rightful beds).   I find the clips of the new Pope's first waves and comments, finally relieved that some part of this memory making plan is working out. 

We watch for about an minute, listening to the calming translation of his Italian, when my middle son says:

"Who is that guy?"

"It's the new Pope, Jorge Maria Bergoglio, Pope Francis," I say.

"Umm, no it's not," says he.

"Yes, honey. It is. See - that's why he's standing in the balcony waving to the people in Rome."

"You're wrong. The principal told us that the new Pope was father Mark."

Father Mark is our parish priest who is very involved in our parochial school.  He's well known to the kids and we've had him a few times to the house for dinner. Clearly there had been some confusion at school and so my son was absolutely, positively certain that the principal, whom he views with reverence, had told him that Father Mark was the new Pope.

"Nope, Buddy.  Father Mark isn't the new Pope, he's not a Cardinal and he's not in Rome."

"Right, but you said the new Pope didn't have to be a Cardinal."

He was right.  I did tell him that. What I didn't say was that of course the new Pope would be a Cardinal. While the church could break with tradition, no one expected it to do so.

My son was terribly disappointed by Pope Francis.  He did not look near as young or as cool as father Mark. I made a note to call the priest and let him know that at least one person thought he deserved a promotion.

I have been critical of the Catholic Church, my most popular entry on this blog, deals with some of my struggles, and yet I found myself defensive yesterday. Listening to the critical chatter on Facebook and Twitter about "another scandalous, conservative Pope." The lines and lines of judgement without any real sense of information or experience. I was surprise by how strongly I reacted.

One poor friend got a real diatribe from me because she said she was hopeful but concerned about this new Pope and the direction of the church.

Pope Francis will have neither a perfect history nor perfect future. He is human. But because we are human, we can be honest and still be hopeful; we can be forgiving and still forthright. And so I agree with my friend. We are called to face every day and every situation with hope and concern, if we can promise to always live to this standard, everything would probably turn out better, both for our church and in our world.

We must view the church with our intellectual talents, our honest hearts and our open minds. For the first time in a long time, I feel how true this really is, and I feel we have a renewed opportunity to receive the Holy Spirit. 

Discrimination, abuse and the role of women in the church are not issues that will be solved tomorrow - but with faith and our own energy - we have a better chance today of leaving our children and grandchildren a church that is a beautiful instrument of love, light, joy and peace.

So, while Pope Francis is not Father Mark, he is a fresh step in a new faith future. We, Catholics, must take that step, that first hopeful and concerned new beginning, together. 

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace,

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

Where there is injury, pardon;

Where there is doubt, faith;

Where there is despair, hope;

Where there is darkness, light;

Where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,

grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console;

to be understood, as to understand;

to be loved, as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive.

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Amen.