Understanding Pope Francis – Jorge Bergoglio’s conversion experience

I was invited to a dinner this week hosted by the president of Ushaw College, Msgr. John Marsland, and the bishop of Hexham and Newcastle, Seamus Cunningham. The guest of honor was esteemed British journalist Paul Vallely, who has recently published a groundbreaking biography of Jorge Bergoglio entitled “Pope Francis: Untying the Knots” (Bloomsbury Press, 2013). Having devoured the book in two sessions on the elliptical machine, I can say that it is a must-read for anyone seeking to understand the man behind this papacy better.
Vallely’s thesis, constructed from dozens of interviews with those closest to Bergoglio in Argentina and Rome, is that the journey from Jorge to Francis involved a deep spiritual and personal conversion, which to my mind (but I do not claim to speak for Vallely here) is reminiscent of figures such as Augustine and Ignatius Loyola.
He elaborated that this tale of conversion underpins Francis’ style as pope, and can be gleaned from a careful reading of many of his comments and interviews where he refers to himself as a sinner redeemed by the mercy of God. Vallely clarifies how, in his opinion, these are not pious platitudes, but really the lens through which Francis now self-identities.
In Vallely’s view, the key spiritual movement of the man was from one of egoistic and authoritarian control, where he was highly critical (if not worse) of those working in the very slums he would eventually come to immerse himself in as archbishop, to a pastor of souls intent on living in solidarity with the world and its marginalized, not retreating from either into the sacristy. It was during a period of “humility and humiliation” in a sort of exile experience away from the Argentinean capital in a place called Cordoba, where he was sent in the wake of some divisive choices, that Bergoglio underwent some sort of profound transformation and learned to listen to others and God more attentively.
During some of the inner turmoil immediately preceding this experience, Francis visited Germany and saw a painting of Mary, the untier of knots. The story behind it can be briefly put: an esteemed Jesuit centuries before Bergoglio’s visit had blessed an aristocratic couple’s traditional German wedding ribbon during a spat of trouble in their marriage, praying that while Eve had tangled the thread of the collective human experience, only Mary could untie it. They were reconciled and the painting subsequently commissioned. It pictured Our Lady working the knots out of a long strand, a feat to which any mother of a toddler with his or her tiny shoes probably could relate. Francis pondered the knots in his life up until that point, many of which he had caused himself. He became so devoted to this image that he had copies of the painting brought to Latin America, where thousands of pilgrims flocked to it.
From this devotion, Vallely drew the name for his biography.
According to Vallely, the humble gestures of Francis paying the hotel bill and riding the bus and having the crowds pray over him are not merely the “exaltedly meek” PR gimmicks for which his critics condemn him. However, they are calculated in the sense that he has come to the conclusion that God is calling him to take on this “role” of humility that is practiced and developed, not inherent to his personality. It’s a fascinating reflection on how humility is a virtue to be fostered and grown, not a God-given talent, which some of us simply lack. That’s too easy, a cop-out if you will, and we are called to move beyond living within such a “knotted” condition, trusting always in the forgiveness of God and constantly asked to better emulate the authentic other-centeredness of the divine.

Michael M. Canaris, Ph.D., of Collingswood, is a Research Associate at Durham University’s Centre for Catholic Studies in Northeast England.