Witness
Posted 10:52pm (Mla time) Feb 27, 2005
Inquirer News Service
Editor's Note: Published on page A14 of the February 28, 2005 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer.
THE POPE'S emergency tracheotomy last Thursday has raised, for the second time in a month, the one question that never fails to exercise news organizations around the world: Who runs the Church when the Pope is ill?
The question, however, proceeds from the wrong assumption. The Pope is not the chief operating officer of a complex multinational; he is the chief priest of a Church that is 2,000 years old. In other words, he leads a religion that counts time by centuries.
In the event that he is incapacitated, the Church will continue to do what it has always done: gather the faithful, preach the Christian revelation, minister to the needy, offer a sacrifice of the "joys and hopes, griefs and anxieties" of an imperfect and all-too-small world.
To be sure, running the Vatican is not the same as running the Roman Catholic Church. The Vatican is a city-state with outsize influence in global organizations and international forums; when news organizations consider the whole issue of schedules and deadlines, this is often what they mean. Who will run the Vatican?
The quick answer is: The same people who do now. The Secretary of State serves as the chief official, but the various congregations follow the lead of their respective prefects. There may be infighting, or at the very least some maneuvering, between influential cardinals and archbishops when the Pope becomes incapacitated, but patience is a virtue in large bureaucracies, especially that of the Vatican.
But if the Pope is incapacitated, who will "run" the Roman Catholic Church?
This question is erroneous, like the first, but it reflects a more important error. Indeed, it is a measure of Pope John Paul II's overwhelming success in redefining the papacy. For almost every Catholic, the "Church" was very much a local experience. Catholicism was the parish, the neighborhood Catholic school, the patron saint, the local feast. Before the great John XXIII threw the windows of the Vatican wide open in the 1960s, the Pope was a remote figure-an often sainted link to the past, but always remote. But if John XXIII traveled around Rome and Paul VI journeyed to other countries, John Paul II was the Pope who brought the Church into the modern, media-oriented age. He became anything but remote.
He may be the most traveled man in history, logging more than a hundred papal visits to countries great and small. He has also been very much an activist pope, the political liberal who helped overturn communism in Europe, the religious conservative who preached the gospel of life at every turn (and canonized more saints than any pope before him).
It may well be that the "Catechism of the Catholic Church," the first new summation of the Catholic faith in 400 years, will be remembered as his chief legacy. It is certainly characteristic of his reign: formidably intellectual, in many ways an invigorating departure from old ways of doing things, but by design and in effect a bold attempt to provide the Catholic faithful with the old, pre-Vatican II certainties.
The question of who will "run" the Church when he is seriously ill, therefore, is a product of the vital dynamism he brought to the center of Catholic life. But it is in error because, in the Catholic tradition, no human agent is alone responsible for the growth of the Church, or its decay.
The real question that should be asked again and again, in newspapers and on television, online and over radio, does not involve a political issue at all. It is not about the use of power, but the exercise of will. Why, we should ask again and again, does the Pope not resign? While the Vatican has not officially admitted it, it is well-known that John Paul II suffers from Parkinson's, a debilitating disease that turns even the ordinary act of breathing into a laborious, touch-and-go affair. (Hence, the need for a tracheotomy.)
Wouldn't the Church he has done so much to breathe new life into be better off if he stepped aside, to give way to a healthier successor, and to earn a well-deserved rest without the distractions of office? Perhaps not. Pope John Paul II has always been a teacher; now he is called to be even more-a witness, a co-sharer in the suffering that Christians believe is redemptive. By not resigning, he is only answering his vocation.

