Pope Francis surprisingly announced on Oct. 25 that he planned to name 13 new cardinals in a consistory on Nov. 28, nine of whom are under the age of 80 and thus eligible to vote in an eventual conclave.
The ecclesial mandate that cardinals renounce their right to a potential vote for the next pope on their 80th birthday is strictly observed, while the traditional rules capping the number of cardinals at 120 is regularly ignored (as it has been at various times, including during the papacy of John Paul II who once ballooned the college as high as 135 electors). Since Cardinal Wuerl will turn 80 before the consistory and Angelo Becciu has recently renounced his privilege to participate at the pope’s request, by the end of November, there will be 128 potential electors, 73 of whom have been named by Pope Francis. Thus, almost 60% of the voting cardinals will be Francis appointees.
This is vitally important as Pope Benedict XVI amended Universi Dominici Gregis, the document governing conclave rules, to reinstate a two-thirds majority as necessary to elect a pontiff. (Before this, there had been some circumstances where a simple majority would have sufficed after a certain number of inconclusive ballots. In a crude political analogy, we can see in the American context how important such a change can be in terms of debate around compromise when examining the Senate filibuster and needing 60 votes to do something versus 51). But, as time progresses and the cardinals named by Pope John Paul II and Benedict XVI “age out” or pass away, these consistories continue to serve as a reminder that Francis’ stamp on the future of the church becomes more and more pronounced and irrevocable with each passing class.
Whether the cardinals will be able to attend the ceremonies physically or not given the pandemic is an open question. But with the longstanding tradition of creating cardinals in pectore (“in the heart/breast”) for various reasons, it’s clear that one can become a cardinal without any direct laying on of hands or other tangible ceremonies. The announcement of the intention to name one a cardinal is sufficient to bestow these rights and obligations (cf. canon 351).
All of this human wrangling must be read through a theological lens if it is to make any sense whatsoever. The only reason Catholics pay any attention to these realities at all is because of the belief that the Holy Spirit guides (not compels, goads or audibly whispers to) the church in discerning its ongoing relationship with the Lord, including in terms of the leadership of the Bishop of Rome. As much as handicappers try to predict what might happen down the line, a longstanding saying among Vatican-watchers is that “he who enters the conclave a pope, emerges a cardinal” — meaning, with a few notable exceptions, that the pre-ordained favorite usually doesn’t get selected by his peers for the role. Human history and the triune God are both always full of surprises.
Among the new cardinals, Wilton Gregory, the archbishop of Washington, D.C .will become the first Black American to be given the red hat. Other notable selections come from Malta, Rwanda, the Philippines, Chile, Brunei, Mexico and (of course) Italy. There will now be 48 Italian cardinals representing the curia and many of the 227 dioceses on the peninsula, which needs to be put in perspective. Imagine that huge number of bishops and cardinals in a nation roughly the size of California. Such a fact goes a long way toward explaining why many feel the Italian “way of proceeding” has brought both tremendous blessings and yet serious challenges in terms of a clericalist culture to the universal church.
Francis’ selections provide a lens into understanding his reforming nature — he continues to internationalize the college, prioritize the peripheries of persecuted or poor locations, and (relatively) downplay the role of Italians and Americans, which had been disproportionately outsized compared to the exploding population of Catholics in the Global South. Yet, he realizes that to be effective in shepherding the People of God, he needs those who share in his agenda at his side, and to maintain the beauties and energy of the spiritual patrimony that he has inherited, even if they come from these overrepresented regions. It’s a balancing act, which one can argue has not gone far enough in one or the other direction. But it demonstrates clearly the tightrope he is trying to walk in leading a global church of the 21st century.
Originally from Collingswood, Michael M. Canaris, Ph.D., teaches at Loyola University, Chicago.