What was
said of the executed King Charles I’s life seems applicable to the papacy of
Benedict XVI: Nothing became him like
the leaving of it.
By “resigning”—the
word itself bears noticing—His Holiness spoke more volumes than he could
possibly have written about the nature of what he was leaving.
All of us
in holy orders, or who serve the church in any capacity, should take notice.
Since no
pope had ever chosen to step down for 598 years, Benedict’s act by any measure
is historic. Moreover, as I suggested, the
description of his act warrants attention.
He “resigned.” He “retired.” He didn’t “abdicate”: that’s the language of rulership,
which, of course, includes the throne of St. Peter. Benedict remains, after all, the last
absolute monarch reigning anywhere in Europe.
One “abdicates” from a monarchy.
One “resigns” from an office. The
triple papal tiara continues to adorn the flag of the Vatican, but not since
Paul VI has a pope actually worn it.
Monarchialism, even in Rome, seems to be passé. Fine by me.
So the
emphasis shifts from the monarchical to that of office. From that, Benedict has resigned and will
retire. Some say that, in so doing, he
diminishes it, like those in the crowd at St. Peter’s who cried to him, “Stay,
stay!” The act, said one, “undermined
the primacy of the pontiff, his authority.”
To me,
though, his act represented not pontifical supremacy but supreme humility. He perceived himself unable to fulfill the ministry that the office demanded. So, instead of remaining in office while his
mortal life ebbed away, as he watched his predecessor do, he decided to
leave. For the sake of the ministry, for
the good of his Church, he withdrew.
Or,
perhaps, because he found scandal upon scandal piling up around him, even to
his last days as pope, realizing he couldn’t deal with them, he moved aside so
someone else could.
Either way,
the ministry proved more important than the office. Since he could no longer effectively offer
the one, he would not remain in the other.
The church,
any church, provides plenty of offices for laity and clergy. They come with nice titles: bishop, warden, deacon, choirmaster, vestryman/woman,
lay Eucharistic minister, priest, rector (from the Latin for “ruler”), church
secretary. Often they come with perks
ranging from nice clothes to seats in the assembly or slots in the parking lot.
But each at heart is a ministry, a
service to and for God, church, community, neighbor.
Pope Benedict abdicated from the
most perk-filled position, perhaps of any kind and certainly the church, in the
world. In so doing, I think, he showed
where his priority was: the ministry.
All of us who hold positions in the
Church of God, whatever brand it may be, can take a lesson in his humility.
