Spanish appointment tells Curia heads: You can go home again

A chapter in Pope Francis’ revolution was written today when the pope named Cardinal Antonio Cañizares Llovera as archbishop of Valencia, Spain.

The appointment was remarkable mainly because it violated the age-old Roman Curia maxim, “You can’t go home again.” Cardinal Cañizares was being sent back to Valencia, where he was ordained a priest 44 years ago, after a five-year stint as head of the Vatican’s Congregation for Divine Worship and the Sacraments.

UPDATE: Cardinal Cañizares said in an interview that he was happy to be going back to his home diocese, and that he told the pope he wanted to “smell like the sheep” (using one of Francis’ favorite phrases about pastors.)

Traditionally, Roman Curia department heads, especially if they’re cardinals, stay on the job until retirement. And after they retire, most continue to reside in Rome rather than returning to pastoral work in their home countries.

I’ve argued that if Pope Francis really wants to emphasize service over prestige in Vatican appointments, he should make it clear that those called to Rome are there temporarily, with no guarantee of career advancement, and can expect to return home after their five-year term is over.

That’s what’s happening to Cardinal Cañizares. A theologian known in Rome as the “little Ratzinger,” he was archbishop of Toledo when he was picked by Pope Benedict to head the liturgy congregation, where he presided over a series of conservative decisions (his latest instruction was to tone down the exchange of the sign of peace during Mass, to reflect greater “sobriety” in liturgy.)

The 68-year-old Cañizares was tipped by Spanish sources in recent months as a possible new archbishop of Madrid. Instead, he’s going to Valencia, a smaller and less important archdiocese. Madrid, also announced today, went to Archbishop Carlos Osoro Sierra, who had headed the Valencia archdiocese.

No one has yet been appointed as Cañizares’ successor at the Vatican’s liturgy congregation.

It will be interesting to see if Pope Francis is willing to send younger department heads back to pastoral service after a few years at the Vatican, rather than keeping them on forever. The turnover would be good for the church, and would remind the prelates that their time in Rome is a sacrifice, not a career move.

Curia rumblings about a pope who won’t be filtered

There’s been a lot of media attention to Pope Francis’ now-famous phone call to an Argentine woman who is civilly married to a divorced man, reportedly telling her she could receive Communion.

While in Rome this week, I’ve made some soundings inside the Roman Curia, and found concern among Vatican officials in two areas. First, they’re worried about the doctrinal and pastoral implications of the pope’s supposed remarks, and the risk of raising expectations for a change in church policy that may never occur.

Second, and more broadly, they’re concerned that the Vatican is losing control over papal communication. In that sense, the phone call was a tipping point: an institution that has spoken for centuries in a formal, calibrated hierarchy of expression is now headed by a man who chats on the phone, delivers soundbites to reporters and improvises daily sermons.

That explains the unusual statement from Father Federico Lombardi, the Vatican spokesman, who announced to journalists a few days ago that the pope’s phone call – indeed, any papal phone call – did not form part of the Magisterium, the official teaching of the church. “Consequences relating to the teaching of the church are not to be inferred from these occurrences,” was the way he put it.

Father Lombardi’s statement was probably drafted by the Secretary of State’s office, which used to be the communications gatekeeper at the Vatican, but which today finds itself increasingly on the sidelines. Quite often, Pope Francis does not go through the usual filters anymore.

The Old Guard at the Vatican tends to view many of the pope’s interviews, Tweets and off-the-cuff remarks as expressions of lesser consequence. His morning Mass homilies make headlines almost every day, but – reportedly at the pope’s request – are not being collected for publication in the permanent Vatican record, the Acta Apostolicae Sedis (they are extemporaneous talks, so there’s no complete text.)

None of this less formal output is considered part of the “capital M” Magisterium. But for most Catholics, that’s a distinction without a difference. They don’t care whether comments like “Who am I to judge?” find their way into the Vatican’s official archives. All they care is that the pope said it.

In the case of the Argentine woman, the fact that Pope Francis would even make such a call bothers some officials at the Vatican. On one level, they say, it creates confusion, because no one is sure exactly what the pope said. The pope should know by now that any private conversation like this will eventually come out in some unsanctioned manner (in this instance, on the Facebook page of the woman’s husband.)

And as one Vatican monsignor put it, why should the pope be talking to her at all? Shouldn’t he be referring her to her spiritual advisor, or asking the local bishop to follow up?

If the gist of the pope’s call was accurately relayed – that the woman could receive Communion – that’s seen by some Vatican conservatives as crossing the Rubicon.

In this case, the woman had been told by her pastor that she could not receive Communion unless her husband received an annulment and the two were married in the church. Didn’t the pope undercut the authority of priests everywhere with his phone call? How are priests to respond when divorced Catholics come to them and declare: “But Father, the pope said it’s OK?”

It’s clear that Pope Francis wants the church to find a better pastoral solution to the situation of divorced and remarried Catholics, and all indications are that this fall’s Synod of Bishops will propose some changes – perhaps, as outlined by Cardinal Walter Kasper, a penitential practice that would allow divorced Catholics to receive Communion, with the understanding the church could tolerate, though not accept, second unions.

That idea has generated much debate among bishops and cardinals, and enthusiasm among many Catholics. But it is not playing so well inside the Vatican. “If that happens, we’ve crossed the line into heresy,” one official told me.

I think Francis has some prep work to do in his own backyard.

Love and mercy: the unity theme of the two-pope canonization

Today’s canonization of Saint John XXIII and Saint John Paul II drew 800,000 people to Rome. I spoke with a small fraction of the massive crowd that filled the streets near the Vatican, but every one of them agreed: Two popes, two saints, two more reasons to be happy.

Much of the commentariat – and I include myself in that class — has found issues to explore in this double canonization: the fast-tracking of John Paul II, the waiving of the second miracle for John XXIII, the politics of saintmaking and the ongoing tensions over the Second Vatican Council.

I’ve maintained that the double canonization is a unifying move by Pope Francis, an attempt to build a bridge between constituencies in the church who identify with the “liberal” John XXIII or the more “conservative” John Paul II.

I still believe that’s true. But among those in today’s crowd, and probably throughout the global Catholic population, that kind of analysis was not all that relevant.

“The were both good people, holy men. John XXIII was a man of vision. John Paul II was a man of action. But they had the same intention – to bring the church closer to the people,” said Rosemary Fabregas, a Catholic from San Francisco who sat in front of a Jumbrotron screen outside St. Peter’s Square.

An Italian pilgrim, asked about the saints’ differences, put it this way: “Differences? I don’t know. The important thing is that they were both very spiritual and they both loved the poor.”

Pope Francis’ homily echoed their words. Francis did not delve into the politics of Vatican II, or the yin/yang factor some have found in this dual canonization. Instead, he said John XXIII and John Paul II demonstrated a common witness to Christian hope and joy.

Both of the new saints, Francis said, “saw Jesus in every person who suffers and struggles.” Both were men of courage, and “bore witness before the church and the world to God’s goodness and mercy.”

“They were priests, bishops and popes of the 20th century. They lived through the tragic events of that century, but they were not overwhelmed by them. For them, God was more powerful; faith was more powerful … the mercy of God was more powerful,” Pope Francis said.

Pope Francis said Vatican II tied the two men together, too. Through the council, he said, both popes helped renew and update the church so that it corresponded more closely with its “pristine features,” as a “community which lived the heart of the Gospel, love and mercy, in simplicity and fraternity.”

Francis said John XXIII showed an exquisite “openness to the Holy Spirit” when he convened the council. In his own day, John Paul II became “the pope of the family,” a theme that is still at the center of church discussions ahead of the 2014/2015 Synod of Bishops, the pope said.

Pope Francis left aside the interpretations of Vatican II, and the debate on its teachings. Instead, he let the lives of these two saints take center stage. In this sense, it was a unifying event.

The theme of continuity was reinforced by the appearance of Pope Benedict XVI, who was a concelebrant at the Mass, though he did not stand at the altar. His arrival a few minutes before the liturgy drew prolonged applause from a public that has not forgotten the retired pontiff.

It was Pope Francis who encouraged Benedict not to spend the rest of his days hidden away in his Vatican residence, but to get out more. For this event, in particular, it would have been impossible to conceive of Benedict sitting in his room while two of his predecessors were being proclaimed saints.