As a George Carlin Catholic who has strayed from the religion I was born into, I was surprised that I was as moved as I was witnessing Pope Francis’ visit to America. Such simplicity and genuineness in one so impactful was so welcoming. The outpouring of reciprocal affection–not just papal-cachet response and not just from among America’s 70 million Catholics–was impressive and unprecedented within memory. Nice to be reminded that we do have better angels.
We are all too familiar with calculating, even if populist, politicians. Our societal icons would be diminished without media massaging. Image is everything.
Now here comes a humble, transformative man who wasn’t sent from central casting.
Pope Francis literally embraces the afflicted and the incarcerated, not just cuddly kids. He oozes empathy. He calls on Congress and addresses the UN. In so doing, he speaks truth to power on matters such as climate, social inequality and collective responsibilities without becoming preachy. He travels in a small Fiat, not a VIP limo. He visits with victims of Church-complicit sexual abuse. He stresses the importance–and sacrosanctity–of life and helping others.
And for once, a person of renown and charisma visited New York without going on a late-night network talk show.
Granted, the Pope can’t do much about dogma when it comes to celibacy, female priests, traditional marriage, capital punishment and abortion. But he can do something about how we disagree. And he refuses to play the zero-sum morality game. For all of his sound bites, “Who am I to judge?” is the one that still resonates most.