Is the Pope catholic?

Collins, a trained historian, keeps his eye on the big picture. “It is only [!] since the mid-1100s that popes have almost always been elected by the cardinals.” And the fact the church has been around since the time of Jesus Christ, continues to claim over one billion adherents, and is not going to disappear any time soon, leaves endless opportunity for change.

Collins is fully aware that the role of Prefect of the CDF is quite different from that of the papacy. His deep reservations about Ratzinger’s “baggage” notwithstanding, Collins is of the view that “... this does not mean that [Ratzinger] will be a rabid reactionary”. There is always the hope that it is conservatives who can best lead institutions towards the centre, if only because there is no where else to go. Furthermore, “[Ratzinger] had not climbed the greasy ladder of political opportunism required to make your way into the Curia”. And, “He is a substantial theologian, one of the best of the post-Vatican II generation. He is also a person of obvious spiritual and cultural gifts, with a gracious, gentlemanly, even shy personality. We do not need any more ‘super popes’ … Benedict is clearly a more modest man and for that Catholics can be grateful.”

"Above all”, Collins comments, “he loves Beethoven and especially Mozart … something very much in [his] favour”. And, as Collins also notes, he is an old man: this will not be a long papacy.

There is much more to this book than just an appraisal of Ratzinger’s endemic conservatism. Collins gives a thorough appraisal of the papacy of John Paul II, takes us on sweeps through the history of the church, examines in stringent terms several encyclicals (and especially Dominus Jesus, 2000), appraises the new religious movements (such as Opus Dei), provides extensive commentary on the Second Vatican Council and explores the role of the church in Nazi Germany.

Collins canvasses the role of the principal theologians of the 20th century (such as Rayner and Kung), discusses what life as a priest is actually like these days and explains how bishops are appointed. He takes us into the papal apartment, through the machinations of the Roman Curia (the Church bureaucracy) and even into enclave itself: the meeting of cardinals in the Sistine Chapel where each pope is elected.

While he points to directions he would like the church to take, Collins does not foist a set of prescriptions on his readers, and is never proselytising - he wears his faith lightly. It is something of a wild ride at times, but Collins manages the trick of being both scholarly and incautious, insightful but never hectoring, which makes this trip through Collins’ view of the church thoroughly enjoyable as well as richly informative.

However, Collins does miss a crucial perspective on these two popes. By the end of World War II, Europe was devastated. Countless millions had died on the battlefields, in the cities, in the concentration camps. Children had been massacred, women raped, cities destroyed. Many who had survived were themselves shattered people.

It is easy to see how any romantic notions of the inherent goodness of man lay in the rubble, and with that any confidence in the capacity of people to find their own way to “the truth”. It was surely reasonable for thoughtful people coming to maturity during this apocalyptic winter to seek sanctuary outside the world of man’s inhumanity to man and to draw themselves into a circle around a set of eternal truths, with entry into that circle limited to those who subscribed to those certainties. Especially if one was a young and thoughtful German, and consequently enmeshed with the perpetrators of much of the horror, or Polish and so a victim. I am not sure that Collins takes sufficient account of the impact of the unmitigated horror of this history on the formation of Woltyla and Ratzinger, young men at the time.

There also remains the broad, difficult, question: what should the church stand for? It is surely reasonable to suggest that it stand for more than “process”, be more than just a “community of seekers after the truth”; that it should lay claims to truth which extend beyond means to include ends. In shooting down, not so much the certainties which these two popes insist upon, but rather the emphasis they place on certainty, one is left unsure about how far Collins thinks the pendulum should swing. This said, he does not present himself as a theologian - he is more an historical journalist - so it is not reasonable to expect him to address this question here. The mandate he seeks to fulfill is to point to problems with the present balance - and this he does unsparingly - rather than posit the right balance. (If indeed, “the truth”, if such exists, is a matter of balance.)
 
Collins identifies a group of “progressive Catholics” who “still maintain strong cultural identity as Catholics, but who … have either ceased to attend Mass or only come to church intermittently”, which describes my personal engagement with the church. After reading his book, I can’t say that there is much to encourage me to go back. Though Collins’ unswerving passion for the church - which lends so much grace to his book - reminds me of what I am missing, and how extraordinarily significant it is.