Faith, the Pope, and Politics

I wasn’t raised in a particularly religious environment. My mother was a good woman who attended church on a regular basis.  Occasionally she’d drag me to service against my will. As I sat in the pew, the sermons oftentimes seemed like a blur. My mind would wander back to Second Street. Who was outside tossing around the football?  Which of my buddies were getting into shit? Or the score of the Cowboys-Redskins game. All pressing issues, I know. And though you felt uplifted after church, everything about the experience seemed perfunctory. You were just going through the motions. Sing a few hymns. Put a dollar or two in the offering plate. Shake Deacon Galloway’s hand at the end of service. That’s it. I dare say, for most of us, that captures our religious experience growing up. There was never a reckoning with one’s faith on a deeply personal level. It wasn’t until I was well into my twenties that I really considered myself a Christian. You know the born-again Holy Ghost type. For the first time in my life I felt like this was between me and God. But now instead of stale religion, questions would abound. Internal ones. How did my faith inform and influence my world view? Could I sort this out by simply attending church? What is my relationship and my responsibility to the church? Quite frankly, I still don’t know all the answers. However, I have learned that asking questions can help one find his or her spiritual bearings.

Truth is most days I feel like the Prodigal Son trying to find his way back more than someone who was once enlightened by the gospel. The inertia of faith is a funny thing. When you’re in motion, everything’s clicking. There’s momentum. But once you stop or slow down, it feels like God has abandoned you. Can I get an Amen!

This brings me to Pope Francis’s recent visit to the United States. Now let me say up front that I have issues with some of the teachings of the Catholic Church. Specifically the polytheist aspects of her doctrine.  Theological differences aside, Pope Francis swept America off her feet and me right along with it.  At a time when we’re having a national discussion about mass incarceration and Black lives, the images of Pope Francis embracing incarcerated men were moving.  The clip of the Pope blessing the young DREAMER who broke through security to hand him a prayer request.  It was a moment of compassion that transcended the politics of our broken immigration system.  And who can forget his address before Congress on the moral imperative of acting on climate change. We were witnessing faith in motion. What struck me– as I reflect in the moment – was what Pope Francis wasn’t doing. He wasn’t proselytizing. He wasn’t on a PR tour for the Church. His was a message of simplicity: make the world better. Make people around you better. Instead of rebuke and condemnation, Pope Francis chose the message of redemption. In an age of self-improvement gurus, TED Talks, and countless volumes on how to market yourself, it was refreshing to see a man of Francis’s stature get us to focus outwardly. He masterfully threaded the needle of faith and politics. Many may disagree with the Pope's politics but he humanized Faith, his faith, in a way that drew me in. 

While I don’t expect the debate over hot button issues such as abortion, gay marriage, and climate change to subside anytime soon, Pope Francis created space for me to see others beyond divisive policy debates and theological differences. He presented a model of engagement. One that I can hopefully emulate. History tends to reduce public figures over time to a simplified version of themselves. Pope John Paul II took many moral stands, including opposing the death penalty, apartheid in South Africa, and artificial forms of birth control. Today he is mostly remembered as being the leading spiritual opponent of the Soviet Union and communism. The legacy of Pope Francis is unfolding. It will be fascinating to witness.