One cannot live on systematic theology alone. And so one of my late-night guilty pleasures when I need a break, even here in the UK, is to listen to podcasts of Coast to Coast AM, the wildly popular overnight radio forum for conspiracy theories, alternate history, and outlandish paranormal speculations. (My dad and high school friends from Camden Catholic are even bigger fans than I am). I expect to hear some commentary there soon about this recent comment from Pope Francis:
“If – for example – tomorrow an expedition of Martians came, and some of them came to us, here [in the Vatican]…Martians right? Green with the long nose and big ears, just like children paint them … And one says, ‘But I want to be baptized!’ What would happen?”
There are a number of fun and interesting theological reflections on imaginary situations similar to the one posited by Francis here. I think in particular of C.S. Lewis’s “Religion and Rocketry” and Mary Doria Russell’s sci-fi novel “The Sparrow,” both of which I highly recommend.
However, Francis’s answer to such a lighthearted rhetorical question does in fact have some serious ramifications ecumenically and ecclesiologically.
He answers his own inquiry:
“Who are we to close doors? In the early church, even today, there is the ministry of the ostiary [or usher]. And what did the ostiary do? He opened the door, received the people, allowed them to pass. But it was never the ministry of the ‘closed door’… Never!”
All this talk of doors and people going in and out is quite reminiscent of what we recently heard Jesus say in an Eastertide Sunday Gospel: “Amen, Amen I say to you, I am the gate for the sheep.” And again “I am the gate” (Jn 10).
Pope Francis has famously taken this imagery to heart, talking of pastors emulating the Good Shepherd and living with the “smell of their sheep.” One of my favorite photographs of him is the widely distributed one where he is laughing with a lamb from a live Nativity scene on his shoulders.
There is a certain bridge-building or gate-keeping ministry which seems to be taking place in his pontificate, opening doors (at least in conversation) in many areas of the church and world, from divorced and remarried Catholics to migrants and the economics of the universal church to the Lefebvrist movement. Some of these initiatives are in direct continuity with his predecessor, some unique to Francis’s own interests and expertise. Yet, this “collegiality” has been an emblematic dimension to his agenda since his election. Canonizing John XXIII and John Paul II together in the now-famous “Day of the Four Popes” was a keen expression of this emphasis that the doors to intra-Catholic dialogue ought to be and remain open, as each of the four represented the vicariate of Christ in his distinct own way. It remains to be seen how this initiative will play out in the upcoming Synod, be interpreted by historians and theologians in the years ahead, and be received by those in the Curia and in dioceses around the world (or perhaps someday in other ones!).
Michael M. Canaris, Ph.D., of Collingswood, is a Research Associate at Durham University’s Centre for Catholic Studies in Northeast England.