A priest told me that he had gone as a missionary to a city in the south of Argentina, where there hadn’t been a priest for almost twenty years. Obviously, people went to listen to this priest because they experienced the need to hear God’s word. When he got there, a very well-educated lady told him: “I am angry with the Church since she abandoned us. Now I go to Sunday worship services to listen to the pastor, because he is the one who has been feeding our faith all this time.” Closeness is lacking. They talked about this, the priest heard her out, and when they were about to say goodbye, she said to him: “Father, wait a moment. Come here.” She took him to a closet. She opened the closet and inside was the image of the Virgin Mary. She said, “Father, I keep it hidden so that my pastor doesn’t see it.”
That woman went regularly to that pastor and respected him. He spoke to her about God and she listened and accepted what he had to say, because she didn’t have anyone else to minister to her. She kept her roots hidden in a closet. Yet, she still had them. This phenomenon is perhaps more widespread. Such a story often shows me the tragedy of such a flight, of such a change. Closeness is lacking. Going back to my earlier image, a mother does this with her son: she cares for him, kisses him, caresses him, and feeds him—but not from a distance.
We must be close, isn’t that so? Much closer!
Closeness is one of the pastoral models for the Church today. I want a Church that is close by.
When you were elected in the conclave, the Roman Curia was the target of criticism, even criticism from various cardinals. And the feeling I perceived, at least from one cardinal, with whom I spoke, was of change. Was my feeling correct?
I’ll digress for a moment. When I was elected, my friend, Cardinal Hummes, was next to me, because according to the order of precedence we were one behind the other. He said something to me that was very helpful: “Do not forget the poor.” How beautiful! The Roman Curia has always been criticized, at times more and at times less. The Curia is ripe for criticism, given the fact that it has to resolve so many things, some which people like and others that they do not like. Some of their procedures [are] carried out well, while others are poorly implemented, as is the case with every organization.
I would say this. There are a lot of saints in the Roman Curia—saintly cardinals, saintly bishops, priests, religious, lay-people, and people of God who love the Church. This is what people don’t see. A tree that falls in a forest where there is a lot of growth makes a lot more noise than the trees that are growing! The noise from these scandals is louder. Currently, we are dealing with one: the scandal of a bishop who has transferred ten million or twenty million dollars. This man isn’t doing the Church a favor, is he? We have to admit that this man has acted badly, and the Church must give him the punishment he deserves because he did act badly. There are such cases.
Before the conclave, the so-called general congregations took place. The cardinals had a week of meetings. There, we talked clearly about these problems. We discussed everything since we were there alone to see what was really going on and to trace the portrait of the future pope. Serious problems emerged, some of which are rooted in part in everything you already know, such as Vatileaks. There were problems with scandals. But there also continue to be saints, those men who have given and continue to give their lives for the Church in a silent way yet with apostolic zeal.
There was also talk of certain functional reforms that needed to be carried out. It’s true. The new pope was asked to form a commission of outsiders to study the organizational problems of the Roman Curia. A month after my election, I appointed such a commission of eight cardinals, one from every continent—with two for America, one for the North and one for the South—as well as a coordinator, who is also from Latin America, and a secretary who is Italian.
The commission has begun its work, listening to the opinions of the bishops, to the bishops’ conferences, in order to become familiar with how these reforms should appear within the dynamic of collegiality. A lot of documents have already arrived which we obtained from the members of this commission, which are currently being circulated. We will have our first official meeting from October 1-3 [in 2013]. There, we will examine some different models. I don’t think anything definitive will result at that time because curial reform is a very serious matter. I will see the proposals. If the proposals are very serious, they will have to be developed. I estimate that we’ll need two or three more meetings before there is any kind of reform.
On the other hand, some theologians have said—in Latin, and I’m not sure if it was in the Middle Ages—Ecclesia semper reformanda: “The Church always needs to be reformed.” Otherwise, it lags behind, not only because of scandals like Vatileaks, which everyone knows about, but because the Church always needs to be reformed. There are things that worked in the last century, which worked in past ages and from other vantage points, which no longer work and need to be adapted. The Church is a dynamic organism that responds to life’s circumstances. All of this is something that was requested during the meetings of cardinals before the conclave. We spoke in very clear terms, and some very clear and concrete proposals were made. We will continue along these lines. I don’t know if I answered your question.
You responded very well, very thoroughly. What is your message for the youth of Brazil? Your message comes at a time when young people are protesting in the streets of Brazil in order to register their dissatisfaction in a very strong way. What message do you have for these young people?
First of all, I need to make it clear that I don’t know the reasons why these young people are protesting. So if I say something without clarifying this, I would be making a mistake; I would be making a mistake to everyone, because I would be giving an opinion without knowing the facts. Frankly, I don’t know exactly why these young people are protesting. Second, I’m not happy with a young person who does not protest, because young people dream of a utopia, and a utopia is not always a bad thing. A utopia is a breath and a look to the future. It’s true that a young person is fresh to life and has less life experience. Sometimes life’s experiences can hold us back. However, young people have greater freshness to say what they want to say. Youths are basically nonconformists. This is wonderful! This is something that all young people have in common.
In general, I would have to say that you need to listen to young people, give them room to express themselves, yet exercise a concern for them so that they do not end up being manipulated. Insofar as there is human trafficking—slave labor and so many forms of human trafficking—I would dare to add one more thing without offending anyone: There are people who target these young people to manipulate this hope, this non conformism, thereby ruining the lives of young people. Therefore, we need to be attentive to this manipulation of our youths. Young people need to be heard. Pay attention to them! A family, a father, and a mother who do not listen to their young son end up isolating him and stirring up sadness in his soul, not taking any risks themselves. Young people have a wealth to offer, but clearly lack experience. Yet, we have to listen to them and protect them from any strange form of manipulation, whether it be ideological or sociological. We must listen to them and give them room to sound off.
This leads me to another issue that I spoke about today in the cathedral when I met with the group of young people from Argentina—a group of representatives who had come to present me with their credentials. I told them that the world in which we live today has fallen into a fierce idolatry of money. This creates a global policy that is characterized by the prominence of wealth. Today, money is what controls us. The result is an economic-centered global policy that does not have any ethical controls; an economic policy that is sufficient unto itself and that organizes our social structures as it seems fit.
What happens then? When such a world of fierce idolatry of money reigns over us, we focus a lot on those at its center. But those on the margins of society, those at its limits, are neglected,