Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI has a complicated legacy for me. I remember vividly being in the political science building in college spending time with friends when the white smoke appeared. As they came out to announce “Josephum Sanctae Romanae Ecclesiae Cardinalem Ratzinger” one of the other students yelled “the Hitler Youth?!” I knew then that it was going to be a rocky experience.
I admire the former Pope in many ways. He was a brilliant intellectual who was also a very gifted writer. He used his gifts to write about church history, theology, and other topics to help people better understand their faith. His “Introduction to Christianity” helped present the faith to the modern word in a new way.
I also agreed with his approach to liturgy, and I was personally enriched by “The Spirit of the Liturgy.” I am of the opinion that the liturgical changes after the Second Vatican Council were too radical, while also acknowledging that a dramatic change was needed to make the liturgy more approachable to a modern world. Benedict XVI attempted to find a middle ground—to promote the sacred in the Novus Ordo while nurturing the Tridentine Mass. One can certainly appreciate the “Reform of the Reform” while also being grateful for more access to the Tridentine Mass. Unfortunately, as the old joke goes, “it is easier to argue with a terrorist than a liturgist” and problems continued with liturgical exclusivity and obedience.
However, his legacy was not without challenges. While he certainly went farther than John Paul II in handling abuse cases, there were places where that fell short. There was also the financial scandal that ultimately overshadowed the end of his papacy. He could be a polarizing figure—beloved by traditionalists and distrusted by progressives, although (as we see with Pope Francis) that is the fate (albeit switched) of every Pope to some degree.
I did not expect him to make sweeping changes, just as I did not expect this of Pope Francis. While infallible, the Popes have very little ability to radically change dogma in Catholicism. Sure, it can be said that infallibility was a great change but, to be frank, most people don’t particularly care about it. They ignore it to a large degree since it is used so infrequently. Popes can, like Francis, make statements here and there that encourage people or make them think change will be coming, but it rarely results. So the rank and file Catholics trudge on—even those that often feel excluded (the LGBT, divorced and remarried, those taking birth control, etc.)—receiving pastoral care from their local clergy (either outright support or a wink and a nod) while the Church at large remains unchanged. They stay because that is enough or they have found community, a desire of all of us.
For others, like many Independent Catholics, this informal support is not enough “for life is short and nothing is given to man” as Joan Baez says. Or they are fed up with multiple scandals and missteps. Or they have a profound theological disagreement. So, we look to Rome and the Papacy as a guide but forge out on our own, sometimes in the dark and the cold, but true to ourselves and our convictions despite the challenges. It can be a lonely, frustrating path, but nothing worth it really is easy we remind ourselves.
In some way, I respect Benedict XVI for doing the same, albeit the opposite. He stuck to his convictions, leading the Church as he felt called, trying to increase it in holiness and adherence to dogma. He saw rapid change at the Council and, I’m sure, it scared him. I believe he acted according to his conscience. I wish it did not come at the expense of gay seminarians and others who sincerely sought out a way to serve in the Church or were called to active membership but denied even though celibate.
In the end, every one of us has a complicated legacy. Perhaps it is more apparent for those who lead, because they are perceived as changing too much or not enough. Benedict XVI was no different. I believe he was a man of prayer, and I will pray for him. Because even when we disagree with someone, we pray for them. And I hope that he will pray for me.
I admire the former Pope in many ways. He was a brilliant intellectual who was also a very gifted writer. He used his gifts to write about church history, theology, and other topics to help people better understand their faith. His “Introduction to Christianity” helped present the faith to the modern word in a new way.
I also agreed with his approach to liturgy, and I was personally enriched by “The Spirit of the Liturgy.” I am of the opinion that the liturgical changes after the Second Vatican Council were too radical, while also acknowledging that a dramatic change was needed to make the liturgy more approachable to a modern world. Benedict XVI attempted to find a middle ground—to promote the sacred in the Novus Ordo while nurturing the Tridentine Mass. One can certainly appreciate the “Reform of the Reform” while also being grateful for more access to the Tridentine Mass. Unfortunately, as the old joke goes, “it is easier to argue with a terrorist than a liturgist” and problems continued with liturgical exclusivity and obedience.
However, his legacy was not without challenges. While he certainly went farther than John Paul II in handling abuse cases, there were places where that fell short. There was also the financial scandal that ultimately overshadowed the end of his papacy. He could be a polarizing figure—beloved by traditionalists and distrusted by progressives, although (as we see with Pope Francis) that is the fate (albeit switched) of every Pope to some degree.
I did not expect him to make sweeping changes, just as I did not expect this of Pope Francis. While infallible, the Popes have very little ability to radically change dogma in Catholicism. Sure, it can be said that infallibility was a great change but, to be frank, most people don’t particularly care about it. They ignore it to a large degree since it is used so infrequently. Popes can, like Francis, make statements here and there that encourage people or make them think change will be coming, but it rarely results. So the rank and file Catholics trudge on—even those that often feel excluded (the LGBT, divorced and remarried, those taking birth control, etc.)—receiving pastoral care from their local clergy (either outright support or a wink and a nod) while the Church at large remains unchanged. They stay because that is enough or they have found community, a desire of all of us.
For others, like many Independent Catholics, this informal support is not enough “for life is short and nothing is given to man” as Joan Baez says. Or they are fed up with multiple scandals and missteps. Or they have a profound theological disagreement. So, we look to Rome and the Papacy as a guide but forge out on our own, sometimes in the dark and the cold, but true to ourselves and our convictions despite the challenges. It can be a lonely, frustrating path, but nothing worth it really is easy we remind ourselves.
In some way, I respect Benedict XVI for doing the same, albeit the opposite. He stuck to his convictions, leading the Church as he felt called, trying to increase it in holiness and adherence to dogma. He saw rapid change at the Council and, I’m sure, it scared him. I believe he acted according to his conscience. I wish it did not come at the expense of gay seminarians and others who sincerely sought out a way to serve in the Church or were called to active membership but denied even though celibate.
In the end, every one of us has a complicated legacy. Perhaps it is more apparent for those who lead, because they are perceived as changing too much or not enough. Benedict XVI was no different. I believe he was a man of prayer, and I will pray for him. Because even when we disagree with someone, we pray for them. And I hope that he will pray for me.
Photo: M.Mazur/www.thepapalvisit.org.uk
