Transferring Loyalty and Accepting Testimony

In today’s Gospel, Jesus proposes to all who will listen to Him a testimony---not simply of words but of the deeds which He was first given to share:  “The works that the Father gave me to accomplish, these works that I perform testify on my behalf that the Father has sent me.”  Many of Christ’s interlocutors, having grown so accustomed to their own interpretations of the Mosaic law, simply refuse to recognize its fulfillment in this man Who seems to speak and act in the prerogatives of the Almighty.

Loyalty is not transferred easily, and it necessarily involves an act of faith based on the trusting acceptance of another’s testimony.  In the medical realm, I have found that people have either a deep (even fierce) devotion to this or that doctor (who is, of course, the best!); or, in other cases, they have a visceral hatred toward a particular doctor (who is simply incompetent and untrustworthy---the worst!).  Rarely is a physician assessed as being merely average or just acceptable. 

Changing doctors can be a trauma in itself, precisely because there is a serious judgment about whether a transfer of loyalty is warranted, and on whose testimony.  In my own case, even through the worst of my orthodontic travails, I trusted my doctor to make sound recommendations of what he thought best for me.  And at a certain point in my treatment, when he had reached the limit of his abilities to help me himself, my doctor had the humility and professional expertise to point me to (i.e., testify on behalf of) just the right specialist.

I still remember going to the website of this recommended specialist, Dr. Mark Piper.  The site was unimpressive (nothing fancy, just the basics), and his photo immediately for some reason struck me as odd.  I was happy to see who I would be contacting, but Dr. Piper had a handlebar mustache that looked like it was right out of the 1930’s.  His curriculum vitae (Harvard, Vanderbilt, a plethora of professional organizations and awards) was about as reassuring as any institutional testimony of medical excellence can get; yet still I wondered about his humanity.  And in so doing, I wound up adding up all of my external data points into a picture that was ultimately confirmed in some ways but utterly debunked in others, as I got to know him personally over time through my medical treatment.  I would never have guessed, for example, that someone so talented and utterly focused on the cutting edge of his specialty could at the same time be so unpretentious (even laid-back) and superabundantly generous in the time he gave to his patient’s concerns, no matter how small.

All of these thoughts have been on my mind as I---with the rest of the world---try to begin to accept the gift of our new Holy Father, Pope Francis.  Seeing him for the first time as he approached the loggia of St. Peter’s Basilica and looking at his face, my first impression was of seeing a strangely “generic pope.”  It wasn’t just the very well defined contours of my very deep love of Benedict XVI or St. John Paul II which prompted my reaction; it was more the simple fact that I did not know anything about this new Successor of the Fisherman, whose life will necessarily forever shape mine and that of the whole Church.  I was being asked in faith to accept the testimony of the Cardinal-electors who chose this particular man.

In the flood of information and analysis that will flow from today on forward, I think it is worth pausing to ask the Lord to refine---to the point of utterly burning away in His divine charity---our expectations, presuppositions, and projections of who we think Pope Francis should be.  His initial gestures (the name and the first blessing, for example) are a sufficiently rich and suggestive introduction to bring to our prayer.  To have the boldness to select a papal name never before chosen suggests a courageous opening to new promptings of the Holy Spirit (Who bears final testimony to Christ’s Lordship, through the water of Baptism and the Blood of the Eucharist [cf. 1 Jn 5:8]).  But in harkening back to St. Francis of Assisi---who was passionately devoted to an absolutely undivided love of both the “hierarchical-institutional” dimension of the Church and the Church’s mission of radical service to the poor---Pope Francis makes in his choice of name a profoundly traditional choice.  In short, St. Francis of Assisi unreservedly---and at great cost to his plans and timetables---loved the Petrine Office through all of its limitations and even the scandalous defects of its temporary occupants. 

When I ponder Christ’s testimony to St. Peter (“You are Peter and upon this Rock I shall build my Church . . .”) combined with His testimony centuries later to St. Francis (“Rebuild my Church, which you see is fallen into ruin”) coming together in the person of our new Holy Father, I see the outline of a figure whom the Lord has given to fill us with joy and hope and zeal for the New Evangelization.  But it all will surely take getting used to---for everyone. 

Lent requires radical openness to the Lord’s surprises.  As today’s Gospel cautions, it is all too easy for us this side of Paradise to be scandalized by, and hostile to, divine gifts---especially when they may come in a human profile not immediately tailored to our liking.  Nonetheless, our earthly loyalties must be open to transfiguring conversion, and the testimony of the Apostles’ successors must be accepted afresh---as if for the first time.  We have as the people of God been placed in the care of an Argentinean who from the outset of his papacy has himself entrusted his person and the exercise of his Petrine authority to our prayers. 

As a simple point of history, the former Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergolio has astonishingly become the first Pope from the New World.  But, then again, considered from the standpoint of the Risen Christ, it is nothing short of a miracle that every Pope is created from the New World, to shepherd us toward the New World---encouraging us along the way to extend this New World by our shared testimony and the loyalty borne of love.