Saved by Hope: Remembering Pope Benedict

Papal Funerals, for whatever reason, loom large in my memory of all things Catholic. I distinctly the death and funeral of Pope John Paul II, the novemdiales, the grief in the Churches, in Poland, in all the world. From the moment it was announced that the beloved John Paul II had gone to the Father’s house, to the moment his coffin was buried in the crypts of St. Peter’s Basilica, the Church, at least according to my recollection, seemed full of rightful grief; someone remarkable had passed from our world, and we were so very grateful that a man of such zeal and courage as Karol Wojtyla had graced the throne of Peter. Joseph Ratzinger, arguably his ‘right-hand man’, spoke so beautifully and cogently during the funeral homily regarding the the late Pope’s legacy. It was clear from what he had to say that he understood the significance of the near quarter century reign. The funeral, as hard as it was, satisfied me as a man and as a Christian; it was full of hope and love, and there was even a satisfaction in knowing that even the Pope’s enemies, like the late Mikhail Gorbachev, knew that they had contended with a good man, even a great man. Pope John Paul II made me proud to be a Catholic and a human being, as he gave his life and his suffering to so much which we hold sacred.

Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI was born on the Vigil of Easter. How appropriate, it seems, that he died on the Vigil of the Octave Day of Christmas, the Solemnity of the Mother of God. He was born in the refulgence of the Church’s proclamation of the Risen Lord. He returned to God in the arms of the Mother of the Same. And all humanity, let alone the Church, is impoverished from his passing. Yet what a difference the past 18 years have made. In 2005, the Papal Office was arguably at the apogee of its moral splendor, after having contended with some of the most existential enemies which the 20th century raised, like fearsome demons, soaked in blood, and reveling in deceit. Something felt so different about the time and the customs of this year of Our Lord 2023, just like – dare I even say it – something felt so different, so off, when Jorge Bergoglio stood on the loggia of Saint Peter’s Basilica, that spring evening. To this day, I do not know how to explain it, but I know I am not alone in feeling it.

But I do not want this small In Memoriam to be a listing of the grievances I have with this current Pontificate, of which I have spoken at length before. I want to review, if it is possible, something of the splendor of the life and Papacy of Joseph Ratzinger, who, like all humans, is a mystery of the interplay of divine grace and human frailty. By constitution a more shy, introverted and intellectual man, it would be a mistake to reduce his personality to these general qualities. He was a man of bright wit and humor, of fatherly warmth and the intuitive affection of a lifelong educator. I have lost count of the stories of hundreds of people who would encounter this unassuming cleric in the street, and find nothing in him but grace, intense intellect, and gentle charity. I love the stories of how almost any young Priest in Rome, perhaps there for studies, could find in him a ready piece of advice, and genuine interest in their formation.

Most impressively, Joseph Ratzinger was known for not being easily provoked. Even when insulted, he consistently responded with meekness. And this quality has been known and observed on and off of the camera and the press. Such meekness, especially when he had to contend with people who were obviously his intellectual inferior, has always impressed and inspired me, a welcome example of humility and depth in a sea of pride and superficiality.

Of course, who among us could forget his books, his Encyclicals, his gorgeous homilies. Although not as externally pious as his predecessor, his writings reveal a spirit which truly engaged with both the spirit and the letter of Sacred Scripture, and who treated the Sacred Tradition of the Church with natural and supernatural appreciation. Fools neither appreciate the things they mock or are capable of recognizing their significance: Ratzinger on the contrary was a true Biblical “Wise Man”, taking all the best from the old and the new, and presenting them to the Church and to all humanity.

Much like John Paul II, Benedict could weave together insights from science, philosophy, art and history, a trait which demonstrated their broad intellects and open hearts. In an era of hyper-specialization and under-appreciation of diverse fields of knowledge, Benedict could consistently explain the faith in a way that was winsome and beautiful. People may mock him for this, but even his capacity for appreciating the ‘photogenicity’ of the Church, the sensate power of her Sacraments, never escaped him. I miss his vestments, the splendor of his celebrations, the depth of his messages, and the authenticity of his personality. Although he possessed that typical laconic Romantias, at no point did he seem to convey insincerity in word or deed.

I watched the entire funeral of Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI. I took the time to pray the prayers of the Mass and to enter into the spirit of the occasion. But much like losing John Paul II, I have the unmistakeable feeling that we have reached the end of an era. But I noticed a strange disconnect between the affection so many of us have for him, and how his exequies were celebrated. Not that they were celebrated without dignity, but there was a detectable lack of affection. I know this is a subjective, hard to describe sentiment. I have little objective proof for it. Maybe we haven’t yet perfected the manner to commemorate a retired Pope, although we have had almost a decade to plan.

Nevertheless, I pray that the Lord will receive in his mercy the soul of his servant Joseph Ratzinger, that he may know the joy of his Lord, and that he may likewise intercede for us. His words and example were an soothing balm in a discouraging world. But even if our times and our leadership may not be as inspiring, I take comfort in the fact that his teachings remain. He taught us afresh the most essential and necessary virtues for a Christian: Faith, Hope, and Love. And while he defended each one, his defense of hope, Spe Salvi, has always stuck with me. As we journey through this dark night in our world and in our Church, hope is perhaps the most necessary thing we need. And our hope is not in men, nor in fallible institutions. Auditorium nostrum in nomine Domini, qui fecit caelum et terram. May the our dear Pope Benedict obtain for us in prayer what he tried so hard to instill in us by his teachings. We can do nothing better than to imitate him, if we wish to honor his memory.