The Church, whose history has never been peaceful, is living in an era of unquestionable agitation. The insistence of Pope Francis on the need to move away from self-referential schemes, to foster a more missionary Church, a Church that is more sensitive to social injustice, more decentralized, more open to all types of people, with a greater role for women and more attentive to all sorts of excluded and wounded peoples (the famous "field hospital" of which the pope has spoken so often) does not please everyone. Opposition to his reforms, to his gestures, to the direction he has been imprinting on the Catholic world, is organized and (let us be blunt) on the warpath. It is open and tenacious, stronger in some countries than in others—very active in the US and in Italy, for example—led and encouraged by high-ranking leaders of the Church, just as there are powerful ones who are, of course, very supportive of Francis. In some conservative Catholic media one can read daily attacks on the Pope. In response, in other, more progressive media, columnists feel compelled to go out daily in defense of the Bishop of Rome.
The first thing we want to emphasize is that this tension may not be necessarily a bad thing. It highlights the humanity of the Church, its political reality. It removes the mantle of impassivity and otherworldliness with which sometimes we have pretended to dress her (or to disguise her, because tensions have always existed). In the best of cases, it is a tension that can encourage more dialogue at all levels. If cardinals and apostolic delegates openly disagree among themselves, and even with the Pope, why should not we also show our disagreements, those of us who do not wear red birettas: the laity, priests, everyone? Perhaps the frank exposition of our divergences will help us find more paths than the pretense that the Church is calm as oil on a plate.
Secondly, we wanted to draw attention to the fact that perhaps the detractors and defenders of the Pope make the same mistake in focusing the debate on the person of Francis. Personalisms are never good. To flatter my leader because I identify with him can be as childish as to insult him because his message makes me uncomfortable, and to present the conflicts that shake the Church in terms of fidelity or animosity towards the Roman Pontiff distorts the true nature of the crisis. Those who focus the debate on the person of the pope run the risk of turning the problem into a discussion about the particular virtues or defects of Francis, and, consequently, can lose sight of what is really at stake. The underlying themes go far beyond the person that today occupies the chair of Peter in Rome.
What is at stake, of course, is the fidelity of the ecclesial community to the Holy Spirit. Is the Church, as a whole (indeed headed by the Pope) being docile to the Spirit or
resisting the Spirit’s lead? And since there are opposing currents in the Church, the fundamental question is the fidelity of each one of them to the Spirit.
Let us forget about the pope for a moment, so to speak. Let us stop focusing so much on examining every word and every statement of his (something that Francis might appreciate) and let us focus on what, as Christians, we should really care about: Who, in the situation we are living, is being more faithful to the Spirit of Jesus? Who are the ones letting themselves be led, without fear, by the Holy Spirit, the Spirit who at Pentecost poured out on the disciples and thus gave birth to the Church?
It is obvious that if we posed this question to the various ideological tendencies within the Church they would all respond: We are. A traditionalist alarmed by the teachings of Francis and a liberal in love with the Pope would assure, with the same fervor and very probably with equal sincerity, "of course we are moved by fidelity to the Spirit!"
Unfortunately, there is still no fidelity-meter that may allow us to evaluate the fidelity of people and groups, as if it were a thermometer to know the temperature. How to respond, then, to the question of our fidelity to the Spirit? How to discover it? We suggest a way to do so.
The Spirit is, without a doubt, selfless, generous and never seeks his own good. Therefore, perhaps one way to examine the fidelity that each one professes to the Spirit would be to ask us the old Latin question that every good reader of mysteries knows well: Cui bono? Who benefits from the controversy? Who is protecting his own interests? Who is defending his position?
And the opposite questions, which in this case would indicate those who are more faithful to the Spirit, by not seeking their own good: Who are the ones taking more risks? Who are the ones placing the needs of people before the needs of the institution? And who are, in fact, creating more headaches for themselves?
It would not seem that those entrenched in rigid positions risk much or lose anything by preaching that the solution to the problems that affect the Church is to stop any possibility of reform and to return to the rigid models of yesterday.
On the other hand, what seems quite obvious is that those who, starting with the pope, dream about a Church which goes forth—"a Church which is bruised, hurting and dirty because it has been out on the streets"[1]—are in fact risking a lot. They risk their positions of privilege and the placidity that would come from not posing uncomfortable questions, or from looking to the other side in order to avoid having to face the faults of the institution itself. Their efforts to rid the Church of authoritarian automatisms and to strip her of outdated clericalisms are indeed making their lives very complicated.
The "Cui Bono" test, in summary, leaves us with very few doubts as to who is attempting to follow the Spirit’s lead.
[1] Pope Francis. Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium, 49
