Benedict called the conservative Catholics "fanatics".

Some hardline conservatives Catholics are unhappy with Pope Francis and have often voiced doubts about whether Benedict stepped down willingly.

"Some of my more fanatical friends are still upset, they have not accepted my choice," he told Italian daily Corriere della Sera in an interview, at the Vatican's Mater Ecclesiae.

"There aren't two popes, the pope is the only one," Benedict emphasised.

The spectacle of having two living popes, one "emeritus" has led to constant rumors about Benedict's relationship with his successor.

Chiding the fanatical supporters Benedict said those who believe there are two popes are opposed to Church teaching.

Benedict said those nursing conspiracy theories are failing to respect his conscience.

"It was a difficult decision. (To resign.) But it was a fully conscious choice and I think I did well."

"They don't want to believe that it was a conscious choice."

"My conscience is clear," he said.

Benedict also took the opportunity to address the election of US President, Joe Biden.

Biden "is an observing Catholic and he is personally against abortion," Benedict said, referring to a point of contention that has arisen among the American bishops since Biden's election.

"But as president, he tends to present himself in continuity with the line of the Democratic Party....and on gender policy, we still don't really understand what his position is," said Benedict.

The presence in the Vatican of both a pope and a former pontiff - with the title "pope emeritus", both wearing white - has irritated some Catholics.

Leading church figures, including papal loyalist, Cardinal George Pell have called for new rules stipulating the status and dress of retired popes.

In 2013 Benedict for the first time in about 600 years, Benedict became the first pope to resign instead of dying in office.

The interview was published on March 1 to coincide with his resignation.

Sources

• The Guardian
• RNS

The scandal-plagued group came to prominence through their illicit use of the rites of exorcism and have been investigated by both the local media and by the Church.

One must hope that the other New Zealand bishops will support Bishop Gielen by not undercutting his decision by offering this fringe group a home in their dioceses.

The Sons of the Most Holy Redeemer are an excellent example of the reasons why Pope Francis wrote his letter (motu proprio) Traditionis custodes (Guardian of Tradition) in 2021 to the bishops.

In it, he restricted the use of the 1962 Missal and removed the incorrect distinction of "ordinary" and "extraordinary" forms of the Mass that Pope Benedict XIV in his letter (motu proprio) Summorum pontificium (2007) had introduced.

The bishops are the protectors of the authentic tradition of the Church and are not there to further a fringe group.

They must be concerned for the unity of the Church and for the liturgical unity of their dioceses, in this they have been given a clear direction by Pope Francis.

Traditionis custodes

In Traditionis custodes, Pope Francis affirmed that the Latin Church has one Lex Orandi or one law of prayer.

The exceptions to this are ancient rites such as in Milan or in Spain.

Further exceptions are where a group of the baptised leave the communion of the Church to establish their own ecclesial communion and worship using their own rites, as happened following the early schisms of the Church and the European Reformation.

At the end of the First Vatican Council the Old Catholic Church was set up by those who disagreed with the theology of papal infallibility.

Traditionis custodes forbids the use of the 1962 in parish churches without Roman permission.

It requires every priest wanting to celebrate this form to seek the explicit permission of his bishop. It also requires any seminarian, ordained after 2021, who wishes to use these rites, to have the Vatican's permission.

In February 2023, Francis tightened the rules again when he removed the diocesan bishops' authority to grant dispensations for the 1962 Missal by transferring this to his liturgical office.

It was stipulated that bishops may not dispense from the prohibition of the celebration of the pre-conciliar liturgy in parish churches and must seek the explicit permission of the Holy See.

This has led to the refusal of Archbishop Comemsoli's request to use the Melbourne Cathedral, because of the role a cathedral plays as the "parish church of the diocese".

How we pray shows what we believe

One of the main reasons for the restrictions on use of the 1962 missal and associated rites used before the Second Vatican Council is what these rites mean theologically.

Liturgical rites have meaning and liturgical rituals express an inner meaning of belief, which is why the liturgy is called a lex orandi, or a law of prayer.

While many people might have a transactional understanding of the Mass and not care about what is said or done—as long as its quick—how we pray matters.

The way we pray identifies for oneself and to others what we believe. So in the 1950 rite of Good Friday where the Church prayed for the "perfidious Jews", no one blinked an eye at the deep antisemitism.

When now we pray for the "Jewish People, the first to hear the word of God" we pray differently. In the 1962 rite, only the priest prayed the Mass and everyone else attended, now we all the pray the Mass.

These differences are key to understanding the ecclesiological difference between these rites.

For those who choose one over the other there should be respect for their choice. Those to try to celebrate in both rites create a schizophrenic relationship to the Church.

Magisterium and Liturgy

Pope Benedict XVI wrote that the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, Sacrosanctum Concilium (1963) came first because the liturgy is the heart and centre of the Church's life.

We are not a social club, but a community of the baptised who worship God and seek to live the Gospel of Christ in our daily living.

The Second Vatican Council is the highest teaching authority of the Church of the pope and bishops, in Council.

The baptised listen to the Spirit guiding the Church through the Church's magisterium. To deny this is to turn ones back on the Church and to call into question the reality of one's baptism.

Since the Council, most so-called "Latin Mass" groups have become deniers of the magisterium of the bishops and pope in Council.

A recent example of this is the ordinations of priests in the traditionalist Society of Saint Pius X (SSPX) in the Bavarian diocese of Regensburg.

The diocesan Bishop, Rudolf Voderholze, emphasized that the SSPX's ordinations were unauthorized and violated ecclesiastical norms. He also expressed hope for the SSPX's genuine efforts to return to full communion with the Catholic Church, respecting canonical regulations.

The current situation is not helped by the sending of mixed messages.

While traditionalist groups like the Institute of Christ the King continue to celebrate the pre-conciliar Mass based on their statutes, but the seminarians of the traditionalist Missionaries of Divine Mercy in France are refused permission for ordination based on their adherence to pre-conciliar liturgy, nothing is clear.

The Sons of the Most Holy Redeemer have received this judgment and expulsion because they crossed a very important line and used liturgical rituals in an abusive way.

They are not to be trusted as representative of the Church. Those who would support them need to examine their own consciences as to reasons they are doing so.

• Dr Joe Grayland is New Zealand's only liturgically trained theologian. He is teaching at the University of Tubingen, Germany.

Small planes are being used to deliver them.

"Benedict is in sedes impedita" another message said.

That was delivered over 350 kilometres of the Adriatic coast on Sunday. It referred to a term known within the Vatican to indicate that the pope is exiled, imprisoned or otherwise confined

Yet another message was flown over the coastline of Lazio on 16 July. It read "Benedict XVI didn't really abdicate".

The strange messages have attracted thousands of beachgoers and the local media.

The conspiracy theory

Journalist Andrea Cionci, who believes Francis is not the legitimate pope, wanted the public attention he's achieving at the beaches.

For a while now, Cionci, who writes for the Italian right wing newspaper Libero, has tried to spread an anti-pope conspiracy theory.

His theory is that Pope Francis is the "anti-pope". He says Francis was put in office to replace Benedict XVI with a more liberal and progressive figure.

According to the journalist, Benedict's resignation speech hinted that he wasn't really abdicating. He was being forced to do so, Cionci purports.

The conspiracy-theory journalist says three cardinals would reveal the truth. They were "in the know" after Josef Ratzinger (Benedict's) death, he says.

However, that prediction has failed to materialise after the former pope died on 31 December 2022.

Cionci wrote up his theory in a book - Code Ratzinger.

It tells the story of the supposedly complex plot behind installing Pope Francis as head of the church.

His conspiracy theory had failed to attract much attention until a group of lawyers , called Abritrium, funded the flights above Italy's beaches.

Cionci denies being a conspiracy theorist.

Nonetheless, several experts including Francis's supporters and more conservative Catholics have disproven his theory.

In an article published online analysing Cionci's theory, expert Silvio Barbaglia said a secret message could be found in Benedict's resignation speech only when looking at it "in bad faith."

Source

• Euronews
• CathNews

The prosecutors closed the inquiry on March 21, saying they were unable to substantiate the accusations made against Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger in an independent report early last year due to lack of evidence or the statute of limitations.

Ratzinger, who was archbishop of Munich-Freising from 1977-82 before working in Rome and eventually becoming pope, was accused of making "bad decisions" regarding abusive priests in four cases of sexual abuse during his time in Bavaria.

Read More

The conservative-progressive divide has been a recurrent theme of the past 10 years, since Francis first appeared on the balcony of St. Peter's Basilica in 2013 wearing a simple white cassock, shunning the red-and-gold coverings used for centuries.

Conservative cardinals and archbishops have accused Francis of sowing confusion by weakening rules on issues such as homosexuality and remarriage after divorce while focusing excessively on social problems such as climate change and economic inequality.

But events have left the conservative movement disoriented and, some experts say, rudderless.

Former Pope Benedict, who resigned in 2013 and became a standard bearer for conservatives who yearned for the return to a more traditional Church, died on Dec 31 at the age of 95.

"The conservative world lacks a unifying vision, which is something that Benedict provided," said Sandro Magister, a veteran conservative author, journalist and blogger who has been critical of Francis.

"He (Benedict) has no real heir, no one able to inherit his legacy in a substantial way," Magister said.

A senior Vatican official, one of three high-ranking prelates who spoke on condition of anonymity, said many conservatives looked to Benedict "as a sense of security," even though, in the official's opinion, the former pope did not seek that role.

Network

Conservatives also mourned the sudden death in January of Australian Cardinal George Pell, 81, who many had believed would succeed Benedict as chief conservative standard bearer.

Pell's apartment - in the building where Benedict lived until he became pope in 2005 - was a salon for visiting conservative Churchmen.

"In the last years of his life Pell was working to build a unifying network by meeting conservatives and also moderates. He wanted them to reflect on the central issues of the Church looking ahead to the choice of Francis' successor," Magister said.

Pell had written a memo in 2022 calling Francis' papacy a "catastrophe".

The senior Vatican official said: "He (Pell) networked and socialised with a lot of people and that made him a formidable force. Having that network collapse immediately one day probably has people disconcerted."

Two days after Pell's death, Italian bookstores began selling a memoir by Benedict's long-time personal secretary, Archbishop Georg Gaenswein. It included scathing criticism of another conservative icon, Guinean Cardinal Robert Sarah, exposing more internal fault lines on the right.

Continue reading

• Philip Pullella is Reuters Senior Correspondent in Italy and at the Vatican.

During a recent press conference, the Pope spoke out against those who sought to score political points in the wake of Benedict's death on December 31st.

"I think Benedict's death was exploited," Francis said. "People wanted to score points for their own side. And the people who exploit such a good person, so close to God, I would almost say… those people don't have ethics. They are people who belong to a party, not to the Church."

Pope Francis went on to recall an incident in which someone had filed a complaint against him to Pope Benedict regarding his stance on same-sex partnerships. However, Benedict didn't take the bait. Instead, he called in four top cardinal theologians to have the matter explained to him.

"It's an anecdote to show how Pope Benedict moved when there was a complaint," Francis said.

The Pope also rejected claims that some of his decisions embittered Pope Benedict. He emphasised that the two popes frequently consulted each other during the nearly ten years that Benedict lived in the Vatican as an emeritus pope.

"Cuento Chino," a Spanish expression meaning "tall tales," is how Francis described the allegations that Benedict was unhappy with some of his decisions.

Pope Francis' strong words against those who seemed to be exploiting the death of Pope Benedict highlight the ongoing divide in the Catholic Church.

However, the Pope's message of unity and his recollection of Benedict's handling of a difficult situation serve as a reminder of the values and ethics that should guide all members of the Church.

Sources

Religion News Service

Reuters

The announcement of Pope John Paul II's death in 2005 reverberated around the world, and in Rome, locals will tell you that his funeral was the biggest one in memory: Cars were abandoned mid traffic, as mobs rushed toward St Peter's Basilica.

An estimated 3 million faithful lined up for hours on end to glimpse John Paul's casket.

By comparison, the news of Benedict XVI's death, delivered on New Year's Eve, was met with an unmistakable air of quiet.

While the measure of a pope cannot be determined by his funeral, by the time Benedict was laid to rest on Thursday (Jan. 5), roughly 200,000 people had come to pay their final respects.

The few calls for "Santo Subito" — "sainthood now" — from the onlookers at the funeral Mass were muffled by the heavy fog that descended on the square, enveloping the basilica's dome.

While the unique reality of having two popes, one reigning and one resigned, both living in the Vatican galvanized and frustrated many Catholics, some tourists encountered near St. Peter's were surprised to hear there was a papal funeral.

"Pope Francis died?" one asked, later expressing confusion at he notion that there had been another pope for almost a decade.

Even Roman citizens, their bus redirected to avoid St. Peter's in the hours before the funeral, demanded to know what event at the Vatican was so important as to interfere with their holiday commutes.

But if Benedict cannot be credited with helping to take down communism, as John Paul was, or inspiring faith and conversions all over the world, like Francis, this small-framed academic sandwiched between two charismatic pontiffs has arguably left a deeper mark in the history of pontificates.

While Francis is often praised as embodying the ancient idea of pope as pontifex — Latin for "bridge-builder" — for his focus on dialogue and encounter, the title is even more fitting for Benedict.

A young Joseph Ratzinger, as he was born in Bavaria 95 years ago, witnessed firsthand the change inspired by the Second Vatican Council, the historic gathering of bishops in the early 1960s that reformed the way the church engaged with society.

He was also there, quietly watching from his post-retirement retreat in the Vatican's Mater Ecclesiae monastery as Francis launched a new worldwide consultation of Catholic faithful to address the challenges and demands of modernity, the current Synod on Synodality.

Benedict personally bridged these two massive reform efforts for a Catholic Church grappling with a new millennium: For years after the Second Vatican Council, he considered himself a progressive before finding himself pulling back, eventually emerging as a conservative icon, and for more than two decades, Ratzinger served as John Paul's doctrinal watchdog.

In his 10 years in retirement, after Francis was elected, his presence in the Vatican was a chain holding together two equally powerful, and powerfully different popes.

In his greatest contribution, in the field of theology, Benedict also acted as a bridge, attempting to reconcile faith and reason — what the world increasingly saw at odds, he saw as intrinsically connected. His work in this field, tying together religion and science, will leave a profound imprint in church thinking.

Some of his bridges from past to future were more trivial — he was the first pope to have a Twitter account (@pontifex, which now tweets for Francis); others constituted important advances, as when he became the first pope to meet with clergy sex abuse survivors.

And if Benedict's death was relatively quiet, he had his earthshaking moment when he made his choice to retire, sending shock waves through the church and around the world. While it made history, his resignation also created a new future for his successors, raising the chances exponentially that Francis or any of the popes who follow might take a similar step.

"Benedict's death felt like a rehearsal," as one Vatican journalist put it. The 86-year-old Francis has repeatedly declared himself open to the possibility of retiring if his health were to decline. The once rare occasion of a conclave to elect a pope without first burying one could become a trend, eliminating the inconveniences and dangers of drawn-out and aging papacies, as was the case with John Paul.

Benedict XVI asked for a "somber and simple" funeral and got his wish.

But the lack of pomp and majesty should not lead anyone to mistake it for insignificance in Benedict's papacy, which will have a loud echo in the coming years of the church.

• Claire Giangravé - Vatican Correspondent RNS. First published in RNS. Republished with permission.

For nearly eight years, until his stunning decision to resign on the last day of February 2013, Joseph Ratzinger was pope, the most visible exponent of Catholicism in the world—a universal pastor and renowned theologian, who presented his ideas and exhortations in homilies and speeches around the globe and in beautifully crafted encyclicals and deeply researched books about Jesus.

Long before he was pope, Benedict was also Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, head of the Vatican's Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith and so-called guardian of orthodoxy, who as a career theologian, relished the intellectual jousting inherent to that role.

Over the course of his 23 years as head of the C.D.F., which was known within the Roman Curia as "la Suprema" for its historic influence, Cardinal Ratzinger made headlines—and enemies—with public campaigns against theologians and theologies he saw as crossing the line into dangerously progressive territory.

While much of his work was undertaken at the behest of Pope John Paul II, the German-born cardinal also had an unprecedented sideline in public debates, speeches, writings and books outlining his own vision of the modern world and the perils it posed to Catholicism.

Therefore, many assumed that when Cardinal Ratzinger walked out onto the balcony of St. Peter's Basilica on a chilly April evening in 2005 and was introduced as Pope Benedict XVI, they knew what was coming: more of the same, and then some.

Persona and Principle

Every pope is a paradox to some degree.

He is the lead character at centre stage of an ongoing historical drama, but one so cloaked in tradition and so hedged round by courtiers and customs that, even after he has been years in office, there can remain a remarkable degree of uncertainty about what he is really trying to do, what he really thinks and how he views the church and the world.

The air of mystery was deeper than usual when it came to Joseph Ratzinger.

An introvert and an academic, Ratzinger always engaged with the world most deeply when it came to theological debates; his personality and personal life were revealed only in rare glimpses.

For example, on April 24, 2005, during his homily at his installation Mass in the piazza, Benedict elicited laughter when he said that he was not going to present "a program of governance," a "programma di governo," which is the Italian phrase for a campaign platform.

That would come later, he added.

Instead, he said, "My real program of governance is not to do my own will, not to pursue my own ideas, but to listen, together with the whole church, to the word and the will of the Lord, to be guided by him, so that he himself will lead the church at this hour of our history."

As a teacher and pastor, Benedict XVI the theologian could be brilliant. But as the chief governor of the church, Benedict could border on hapless.

The basic tasks of administration were apparently beyond his interest and his talent.

That gap came at a critical time for the church, when religious choices abounded and "no religion" was a viable and respectable option—when a distrustful public, even a leery flock, was looking for deeds as much as words to convince them that the Roman Catholic Church was indeed still the bearer of the truth Jesus preached.

Benedict's reputation was further diminished after revelations of the abuse of altar servers and seminarians committed by former cardinal Theodore McCarrick rocked the church in the United States in the summer of 2018. Questions emerged about how Benedict chose to respond to multiple reports delivered to Rome over many years about the former Washington archbishop's behaviour.

Benedict's legacy is ambiguous even in the most sympathetic reading.

Whether history's verdict will be charitable or damning may depend on whether the influence of his powerful words can compensate for some of the more listless aspects of his administration. Continue reading

No, I was not being interrogated by the Grand Inquisitor.

This was long before I got in trouble with the Vatican as editor-in-chief of America magazine.

I was in Rome to interview him and other church officials for my book, "Inside the Vatican: The Politics and Organization of the Catholic Church."

I almost missed the interview.

Cardinal Ratzinger was sick the day of our appointment.

When I arrived, I was asked whether I wanted to meet with the congregation's secretary.

I agreed, figuring it was better than nothing.

When I was ushered into his presence, I hadn't gotten a word out before the secretary, Archbishop Alberto Bovone, assaulted me with questions: "Who are you?" "What are you doing here?" "I will decide whether you can see Cardinal Ratzinger."

"But the cardinal already agreed to see me," I stuttered.

That meant nothing to him; he demanded a list of questions I was going to ask.

He then assigned a young Dominican to interrogate me.

Jesuits being interrogated by Dominicans working for the Inquisition has a long and unhappy history.

On the other hand, Dominicans have also come to our rescue.

When Lorenzo Ricci, the Jesuit superior general died in 1775 after being imprisoned in Rome's Castel Sant'Angelo by the pope, the top Dominican was the only one willing to preside at his funeral.

The tradition has continued ever since.

In any case, I was handed over to the Dominican, who, it seemed, was already on my side. During my interrogation by Bovone, he made faces and rolled his eyes behind the secretary's back.

Rather than interrogate me, he advised me on what to do. "Write a letter to the cardinal. Explain that you are leaving at the end of the week and that you would like to meet with him for 15 minutes."

I wrote the letter as soon as I got back to my room, faxed it to the CDF and got a new appointment.

Ratzinger agreed to meet with me in the afternoon when Vatican offices are usually closed.

The interview went more than an hour.

I learned a lot about Ratzinger before the interview even began. He was kind and willing to go out of his way to help a young scholar, even at a time he was not feeling well.

On the other hand, having a bully as his No. 2 man showed either blindness on Ratzinger's part or an unhealthy dependence on people who, though loyal, were not fit for their jobs.

Neither as prefect nor as pope was he good at choosing his subordinates.

When we sat down for the interview, Ratzinger asked whether I wanted to do it in German or Italian.

With a panicked voice I said, "English would be much better."

He agreed, saying "My English is very limited."

In fact, it was excellent.

Only once during the interview did he struggle for a word.

He told me that he was at first undecided whether to accept the position as head of the congregation. Pope John Paul II had to ask him three times before he said yes.

"Give me time, Holy Father," he told John Paul. "I am a diocesan bishop; I have to be in my diocese."

He ultimately agreed to come to Rome in 1982.

In our interview, he spoke of fostering a dialogue between theologians and his office, but theologians who lost their jobs or were silenced by him did not experience it that way. He was upset by the insulting language of attacks on his office, even if he could laugh at the situation.

(I should have remembered this years later before foolishly referring to the "inquisitional" procedures of his congregation in an editorial in America.)

What is most striking about the interview today was his admission, "I do not have charism about structural problems."

In other words, Ratzinger was at heart a scholar not a manager, but he would become head of a billion-member organization with a hierarchical structure and a complex bureaucracy in Rome.

In 1998, after my book was published, I became editor-in-chief of America, a magazine first published by Jesuits in 1909. My goal was to make it "A magazine for thinking Catholics and those who want to know what Catholics are thinking."

Although almost always careful in editorials to stick to the Vatican line, I thought I could publish alternative views in the opinion section of the magazine if I insisted that these articles did not necessarily represent the views of the magazine.

We were, after all, a journal of opinion.

During my seven years as editor, the CDF published important documents on which I asked relevant scholars to comment. They usually praised the parts they liked, and criticized those they did not.

I was always happy to publish critical responses to these articles.

I also published articles by many bishops and cardinals, including then Archbishop Raymond Burke, whom I invited to explain why the church should deny Communion to pro-choice Catholic politicians. I asked Chicago Cardinal Francis George, a prominent conservative, a half dozen times to write something for us, but he always refused.

A high point of the magazine as a forum for dialogue was a submission by Cardinal Walter Kasper, the head of the Vatican ecumenical office, criticizing the ecclesiology of Cardinal Ratzinger.

As the article was going to the printers, I sent a copy to Ratzinger, inviting his response.

At first, he declined, but later changed his mind and sent a response in German, which we had translated and published.

We were delighted to have two prominent cardinals debating an important issue in the pages of America, but later I learned that Cardinal George complained about the exchange and asked the Vatican Secretary of State to tell the cardinals not to debate in America because it scandalises the faithful.

Despite my attempts to be fair, it became apparent that neither John Paul nor Cardinal Ratzinger wanted a journal of opinion unless it reflected their opinions.

After two and a half years as editor, I heard from the Jesuit superior general, Peter-Hans Kolvenbach, that the Vatican was unhappy with an article on AIDS and condoms written by Jesuit theologian James Keenan and Jesuit physician Jon Fuller.

I would have been happy to publish a rebuttal from anyone in the Vatican, but I never received anything directly from the congregation.

The congregation always communicated with me through my Jesuit superiors.

In June 2001, I was told that the congregation found "Father Reese's way of criticising the Holy See, and particularly the congregation, aggressive and offensive."

In particular, they took issue with an editorial we ran on due process in the church (April 9, 2001).

We were accused of being anti-hierarchical.

At the end of February 2002, Father Kolvenbach said that CDF had decided to impose a commission of ecclesiastical censors on America "at the request of American bishops and the nuncio."

The censors would be three American bishops.

Not only was this a bad idea, it was totally impractical, since we published weekly.

In April, I received a list of items published in America that the congregation did not like.

They included a book review by Jesuit historian John O'Malley of "Papal Sins," the article by Keenan and Fuller, an article on homosexual priests by Jesuit James Martin and articles on the CDF document, "Dominus Iesus," by Francis X. Clooney, Michael A. Fahey, Peter Chirico, and Francis A. Sullivan.

Ratzinger seemed to have a thin skin when it came to documents coming out of his congregation.

Only two editorials were mentioned — one on "Dominus Iesus" (Oct. 28, 2000) and the other on "the abortion pill," RU-486 (Oct. 14, 2000). We condemned the abortion drug but hinted that it might be time to rethink the church's teaching on birth control as a way of reducing the number of abortions.

Interestingly, America's extensive and forceful coverage of the sex abuse crisis was never mentioned by the congregation, though I knew that some American bishops did not like it.

Ratzinger, although not perfect, was better than anyone else in Rome on the topic.

No one could tell me which U.S. bishops had requested the censorship board.

I knew it had never come up at a meeting of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops. Nor was it discussed at the USCCB's administrative committee, according to my sources, among them Archbishop Thomas Kelly, who was on the committee during this time.

When I asked Bishop Donald Trautman, chair of the USCCB Committee on Doctrine, he grew furious that a censorship board was set up without consulting his committee. He planned to object vigorously.

Nor was American Archbishop John Foley, head of one of the communications offices in the Vatican, consulted.

He said that, if he were asked, he would have said it was a bad idea. He jokingly referred to himself as the "left wing of the Roman curia."

I asked for help from Archbishops Kelly, John Quinn and Daniel Pilarczyk, but they all said that they were not trusted by Rome, so their support would do no good.

Quinn and Pilarczyk had been presidents of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops and Kelly had been conference general secretary and on the staff of the papal nunciature in Washington.

I approached Jesuit Cardinal Avery Dulles, who thought a censorship board was a terrible idea. He promised to put in a good word for me with Ratzinger.

"You publish me," the very orthodox cardinal said.

Sometime before the end of July 2003, Kolvenbach met with Ratzinger and was able to talk him out of imposing a censorship board.

Kolvenbach warned me that the congregation would be watching to see how America responded to CDF's upcoming document on gay marriage.

I asked Associate Editor James Martin, who had written extensively on gays in the church, not to say anything about the document. I wanted to protect him and the magazine.

He agreed.

Our first article on the subject was on June 7, 2004, by Monsignor Robert Sokolowski, a philosopher at the Catholic University of America, who was strongly opposed to gay sex and gay marriage.

I had to talk him into dropping a paragraph comparing gay sex to sex with animals.

His article, not surprisingly, elicited strong responses, one of which came from Stephen Pope, professor of theology at Boston College.

Even though I got Pope to tone the article down a notch, and even though I allowed Sokolowski to respond to Pope in the same issue, I knew as it went to the printers that this could be the final nail in my coffin.

Although I had never opined or editorialized on the topic, it was clear that merely allowing a discussion of some issues in America was more than Ratzinger would tolerate.

Almost immediately after the publication of the December 6, 2004, issue, my American superior heard complaints from the papal nuncio in Washington. He also complained about an article on politicians, abortion and Communion by U.S. Representative Dave Obey, who had been denied Communion by Burke.

There was acknowledgement that we published articles on both sides of the "wafer war."

As 2005 progressed, the world focused on the sickness and death of John Paul and the conclave that elected Ratzinger Pope Benedict XVI. During this time, I was busy working with the media, explaining and commenting on what was happening.

Before the conclave, at an off-the-record dinner with some journalists in Rome, I was asked, "What would be your reaction if Ratzinger was elected pope?"

I responded, "How would you feel if Rupert Murdoch took over your newspaper?"

On the day of Ratzinger's election, I had already promised to appear on the PBS Newshour.

On the program, I blandly opined that some people will like the results, some won't.

After that, my response to press inquiries was "no comment," because I believed that his election was a disaster but, as Jesuit, I could not say so.

On April 19, 2005, as I heard the announcement of Ratzinger's election in St Peter's Square, I knew my tenure as editor of America was over.

For the good of the magazine and the good of the Jesuits, I had to go.

In addition, after seven years of looking over my shoulder, I had had enough.

I stopped giving interviews and left Rome.

When I got back to New York, the other Jesuits at the magazine would not let me resign.

A few days later, I met with my superior, the president of the Jesuit Conference, and learned that my time as editor was over.

Only then did I learn that back in March, Ratzinger had told the Jesuit superior general that I had to go.

For various reasons they had not gotten around to telling me.

So I resigned.

My Jesuit superiors had always been very supportive of my work, but I knew that ultimately, they could not protect me unless I was willing to compromise my values as an editor.

They had not been able to protect numerous Jesuit theologians who had been disciplined by CDF.

When the news hit the press, I was portrayed as Benedict's first victim; the truth was, I was the last victim of Cardinal Ratzinger. Because I was so well known by the media, who had frequently used me as a source, the coverage was extensive and negative toward the new pope.

The coverage was so bad that the Vatican stepped back from the planned removal of the Jesuit editor of the German journal, "Stimmen der Zeit" ("Voices of the times"). They let him serve out his term as editor.

If I were a unique case, my story would be interesting but not important in judging the legacy of Joseph Ratzinger.

Sadly, mine is only one of hundreds of examples of the repression of free inquiry by reporters and theologians during the papacies of John Paul and Benedict.

A few months before my resignation, Jacques Dupuis, a distinguished theologian who had been disciplined by Ratzinger, told us the story of his own meeting.

After the congregation had condemned one of his books, the elderly (and ill) theologian prepared a 200-page response.

When he met with Ratzinger and the CDF, he told the editors of America, they surprised him by asking him for his response.

When he pointed to the document on the table before them, which had taken him months of work, they scoffed, "You don't think we're going to read that, do you?" Dupuis died not long after our meeting.

Whether I was right or wrong in my views is irrelevant.

What matters is that after the Second Vatican Council open discussion was suppressed by Ratzinger under the papacy of John Paul.

If you did not agree with the Vatican, you were silenced.

Yet, without open conversation, theology cannot develop, and reforms cannot be made.

Without open debate, the church cannot find ways of preaching the gospel in ways understandable to people of the 21st Century.

The papacy of Pope Francis has reopened the windows of the church to allow the fresh breeze of the Spirit. Conversation and debate is possible again, even to disagreeing with the pope.

Unlike his predecessors, Francis does not silence his critics.

Change will not happen quickly enough for many in the church, but allowing the conversation to flourish is essential to preparing for reform.

• Thomas Reese SJ is a senior analyst at Religion News Service, and a former columnist at National Catholic Reporter, and a former editor-in-chief of the weekly Catholic magazine America. First published in RNS. Republished with permission.

Above all, I thank God Himself, the giver of all good gifts, who has given me life and guided me through all kinds of confusion; who has always picked me up when I began to slip, who has always given me anew the light of his countenance.

In retrospect, I see and understand that even the dark and arduous stretches of this path were for my salvation and that He guided me well in those very stretches.

I thank my parents, who gave me life in difficult times and prepared a wonderful home for me with their love, which shines through all my days as a bright light until today.

My father's clear-sighted faith taught us, brothers and sisters, to believe and stood firm as a guide in the midst of all my scientific knowledge; my mother's heartfelt piety and great kindness remain a legacy for which I cannot thank her enough.

My sister has served me selflessly and full of kind concern for decades; my brother has always paved the way for me with the clear-sightedness of his judgements, with his powerful determination, and with the cheerfulness of his heart; without this ever-new going ahead and going along, I would not have been able to find the right path.

I thank God from the bottom of my heart for the many friends, men and women, whom He has always placed at my side; for the co-workers at all stages of my path; for the teachers and students He has given me.

I gratefully entrust them all to His goodness.

And I would like to thank the Lord for my beautiful home in the Bavarian foothills of the Alps, in which I was able to see the splendour of the Creator Himself shining through time and again.

I thank the people of my homeland for allowing me to experience the beauty of faith time and again.

I pray that our country will remain a country of faith and I ask you, dear compatriots, not to let your faith be distracted.

Finally, I thank God for all the beauty I was able to experience during the various stages of my journey, but especially in Rome and in Italy, which has become my second home.

I ask for forgiveness from the bottom of my heart from all those whom I have wronged in some way.

What I said earlier of my compatriots, I now say to all who were entrusted to my service in the Church: Stand firm in the faith! Do not be confused!

Often it seems as if science - on the one hand, the natural sciences; on the other, historical research (especially the exegesis of the Holy Scriptures) - has irrefutable insights to offer that are contrary to the Catholic faith.

I have witnessed from times long past the changes in natural science and have seen how apparent certainties against the faith vanished, proving themselves not to be science but philosophical interpretations only apparently belonging to science - just as, moreover, it is in dialogue with the natural sciences that faith has learned to understand the limits of the scope of its affirmations and thus its own specificity.

For 60 years now, I have accompanied the path of theology, especially biblical studies, and have seen seemingly unshakeable theses collapse with the changing generations, which turned out to be mere hypotheses: the liberal generation (Harnack, Jülicher, etc.), the existentialist generation (Bultmann, etc.), the Marxist generation.

I have seen, and see, how, out of the tangle of hypotheses, the reasonableness of faith has emerged and is emerging anew.

Jesus Christ is truly the Way, the Truth, and the Life - and the Church, in all her shortcomings, is truly His Body.

Finally, I humbly ask: pray for me, so that the Lord may admit me to the eternal dwellings, despite all my sins and shortcomings. For all those entrusted to me, my heartfelt prayer goes out day after day.

• Source: Vatican Media

Ratzinger was born in 1927 on Holy Saturday in the final hours of the Easter Triduum. He died nearly 96 years later on the morning of New Year's Eve, the penultimate day of the Christmas Octave.

And the funeral Mass and burial of the "pope emeritus" — a title he invented for himself in 2013 when he resigned — was to take place on the day before the Epiphany. All very fitting for a man who put the Catholic liturgy at the forefront of his life.

As his body lay in state in St. Peter's Basilica, tens of thousands of Christian pilgrims and tourists in Rome for the holidays joined the Catholic clergy, religious, and civic leaders to pay their last respects to the man whom many will remember as "B16".

What has the pope said?

The pope — that is, Pope Francis — was the one who first alerted people that his retired Bavarian predecessor was gravely ill. That was just three days before Benedict's death on December 31.

But in the initial days after the death, Francis said very little about the man who preceded him as Bishop of Rome (2005-2013).

The 86-year-old pope spoke on three occasions — during Vespers on New Year's Eve, and then at morning Mass and the noonday Angelus on January 1. He remembered Benedict each time.

"Speaking of kindness, at this moment, my thought naturally goes to dear pope emeritus Benedict XVI who left us this morning," Francis said at that Vesper service.

"We are moved as we recall him as such a noble person, so kind. And we feel such gratitude in our hearts: gratitude to God for having given him to the Church and to the world; gratitude to him for all the good he accomplished, and above all, for his witness of faith and prayer, especially in these last years of his recollected life. Only God knows the value and the power of his intercession, of the sacrifices he offered for the good of the Church," the pope concluded.

He remembered Benedict again the next morning at Mass for the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God, with these very brief words: "We entrust beloved Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI to our Most Holy Mother, that she will accompany him on his journey from this world to God."

Then Francis offered these thoughts at the Angelus: "At this time, let us invoke (Mary Most Holy's) intercession especially for Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI who left this world yesterday morning. Let us all join together, with one heart and one soul, in thanking God for the gift of this faithful servant of the Gospel and of the Church. We saw recently on TV, the 'Sua Immagine' program, all that he did and the life of Pope Benedict."

Business as usual

Then there was a fourth occasion, Francis' general audience on Wednesday, the day before the funeral.

He once again mentioned Benedict at the outset, calling him "a great master of catechesis" whose "acute and gentle thought was not self-referential, but ecclesial".

But then, the Jesuit pope put his predecessor aside and began the final lesson of his catechetical cycle on discernment. It seemed sort of odd — and even surreal — that, like Saturday and Sunday, Francis gave Benedict what amounted to an "honourable mention" and then continued on with his prepared remarks without any further reference to the former pope.

After Vespers on New Year's Eve, he surprised his aides by changing protocol at the last minute.

He was supposed to be taken by the "popemobile" from the basilica to visit the Nativity scene in St Peter's Square, but he had his butler push in his wheelchair the entire distance across the cobbled-stoned square, passing through several thousand cheering tourists and visitors.

It was almost to say, "There is just one pope. And, fear not, it is I."

Francis took a break from public appointments on Monday and then resumed his normal schedule of activities the following day, holding meetings and audiences with individuals and groups.

He also went ahead with his Wednesday general audience.

It must be said in Francis' defence that the manner in which Benedict decided to live out his retirement — continuing to wear white and call himself "pope emeritus" — created an ambiguity that has lingered even in these recent days.

Not a few reporters continued to wonder how the established protocols for deceased popes would be applied to Benedict, forgetting that he was no longer the pope when he died.

But he certainly gave new life to the title "emeritus", which is now being used more and more by people who have retired or stepped down from all sorts of roles or professions.

It's become so bemusing that a friend jokingly referred to his "ex" as his "wife emerita".

Who's expected at Benedict's funeral?

The Vatican announced early on that it had invited only Germany and Italy to send official delegations to Benedict's funeral.

It said political leaders and government officials from other countries were welcome to attend, but only in a private capacity without being accorded the normal protocols and security details usually reserved for official visits.

Nonetheless, some big names — bluebloods and political conservatives in Europe — planned to attend the funeral Mass.

And that makes sense since Benedict XVI was the last Old World pope and believed firmly that the classic European philosophical and cultural tradition was part and parcel of Christianity.

Here are just a few of the people who will be attending the funeral in a private capacity:

• Sofia of Greece and Denmark, the former Queen of Spain
• King Philippe of Belgium
• President Andrzej Duda of Poland
• President Marcelo Nuno Duarte Rebelo de Sousa of Portugal
• President Katalin Novak of Hungary
• President Nataša Pirc Musar of Slovenia

Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán and his wife came to Rome early in the week to pay their last respects to Benedict lying in state, but they were not expected to stay for his funeral.

Meanwhile, a number of European countries are sending government ministers, while most nations will be represented by their current ambassador to the Holy See.

There will be numerous ecumenical delegations on hand, too.

The various Orthodox Churches, which held Joseph Ratzinger and his theology in high regard, will have the most representatives at his funeral.

Naturally, a high number of the Roman Church's cardinals are expected to be attending, as well as heads of national episcopal conferences from around the world. And, of course, numerous other bishops, priests and woman and men religious — as well as ordinary Catholics — will be in St. Peter's Square on Thursday.

The funeral: "simple, solemn and sober"

Ratzinger, who was extremely devoted to the Church's liturgy, requested that his funeral be "simple, solemn and sober", according to the Holy See Press Office director, Matteo Bruni.

And since he died a former pope, the liturgy will be slightly different from that for a pope who died in office.

But only slightly so.

The major difference is that the actual pope, Francis, will be presiding.

Normally, the College of Cardinals's dean presides at a dead pope's funeral. But, again, the one who died was no longer pope. The confusion, however, does not end there.

Forgive the insistence on clarity, but it must be pointed out that the men in charge of the papal liturgies have caused more confusion with their sloppy use of terminology.

In the Order of Service for Benedict's funeral they indicate Pope Francis as the "presider" and "celebrant".

Cardinal Giovanni Battista Re is listed as "the cardinal at the altar".

What?

The other clerics — cardinals, bishops and priests — are called "concelebrants", forgetting that everyone in the assembly is actually "celebrating".

The muddle is due to the fact that Francis is unable to stand at the altar and preside at the Eucharistic liturgy, so someone else has to do that for him.

Another "Santo Subito"? A Doctor of the Church?

But this is not all that alarming compared to another more serious matter.

And that is the calls for Benedict to be proclaimed "Santo Subito" (i.e. to be made a saint immediately), as happened in 2005 at the funeral of John Paul II. Benedict's longtime personal secretary, Archbishop Georg Gänswein, was the one who first said that he believes "it will go this way".

In fact, at the end of the Wednesday general audience, a group of young people began chanting "Santo Subito! Benedetto!"

That elicited a few scattered boos.

Then there are those who are calling for Joseph Ratzinger to be made a Doctor of the Church.

One of them is Cardinal Angelo Bagnasco, the former president of the Italian Bishops' Conference.

"I hope he will soon be declared a Doctor of the Church," he told the Turin-based daily La Stampa.

"Like the star of Bethlehem, Benedict XVI will continue to point the way to Jesus to the pastors of our time," he said.

"I place Benedict XVI among the greats, as Doctor of the Church, a Church Father," Austrian Cardinal Christophe Schönborn told Corriere della Sera.

"We will remember Joseph Ratzinger in the 20th century as we remember John Henry Newman in the 19th and Thomas Aquinas and Bonaventura in the 13th centuries," the 77-year-old Dominican said.

Among Ratzinger's various characteristics was his insistence that faith and reason must go hand-in-hand.

But some of his most illustrious admirers seem to have lost their sense of reason or, at least, their sense of perspective.

At least Cardinal Walter Kasper, another German theologian who often sparred with the late pope, seemed to have kept his head on this one.

"I'm not really in favour of 'Santo Subito'," the 89-year-old cardinal told Il Giornale.

"I think we need more time; times teaches us many things. Then, we'll see... if it's possible."

Until then, may Benedict XVI rest in peace and finally contemplate the face of God, as he so much desired throughout his long life.

• Robert Mickens is LCI Editor in Chief. First published in La-Croix International. Republished with permission.

As a result, official word Wednesday that the health of Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI had worsened prompted questions about what happens if and when he dies.

The answer is: There is no specific answer, at least not one the Vatican has announced ahead of time.

The only thing certain is that the most important ritual following the death of a pope — a conclave to elect a new one — does not apply.

Pope Francis sounded the alarm about the 95-year-old Benedict's health when he asked during his weekly Wednesday general audience for a special prayer for his predecessor, saying the retired pope was "very sick."

Most church watchers assume that, when they become necessary, funeral rituals for Benedict will closely hew to those for a retired bishop of Rome: a funeral in either St Peter's Basilica or the piazza, in this case presided over by Francis rather than the dean of the College of Cardinals, and burial in the grotto underneath the basilica.

"The funeral for a pope emeritus is the funeral for the bishop emeritus of Rome," church historian Alberto Melloni said, adding that the situation isn't entirely unprecedented since dioceses around the world have resolved how to honour retired bishops properly.

The rites themselves are contained in the tome "Roman Rituale," which lays out how liturgical rites are to be celebrated, with specific prayers and readings.

A few tweaks are called for, however: Because Benedict was a head of state, the funeral would presumably take on greater pomp with the attendance of official delegations from around the world.

To give them time to arrive, and to honour Benedict's former status as pope, he would likely lie in state for a period of days in the basilica before the funeral, as occurred for popes past.

Few can forget the long lines of pilgrims who queued up for days and nights to pay homage to St. John Paul II when he died in 2005.

One thing that would distinguish a funeral for Benedict from that of the reigning pope is the nine days of funeral rites before burial, called the "novemdiales," presumably would not take place, Melloni said. But one tradition that would be retained is the placing on the casket of the book of the Gospels.

When Benedict announced his retirement in 2013, he opened a decade of uncharted pontifical territory. From his title, "pope emeritus," to his decision to retain the white cassock of the papacy, Benedict largely created a new playbook to encompass both a reigning and a retired pope.

Christopher Bellitto, a history professor at Kean University in New Jersey, said the novelty of Benedict's remarkable decision would likely carry over into the posthumous period, and beyond.

"Headlines will say ‘One pope is burying another.' Not true," Bellitto said in an email. "To be clear: Benedict is the former pope."

"But it is an extraordinary sight since we haven't had a papal resignation in 600 years. It speaks to the continuity of papal tradition in the line of St Peter and to a new world where papal resignations will be less rare, maybe even common," he said.

• Nicole Winfield - First published in RNS, republished with permission.

"With sorrow I inform you that the Pope Emeritus, Benedict XVI, passed away today at 9:34 AM in the Mater Ecclesiae Monastery in the Vatican.

Earlier in the week, Pope Francis asked for prayers for Benedict; that until the end, the Lord would console and sustain him in his witness and love for the Church.

Funeral plans

During a briefing at the Holy See Press office at midday (midnight NZ time), the director, Matteo Bruni, told journalists that Pope Francis will preside over the funeral of the Pope Emeritus on 5 January at 9.30 CET in St Peter's Square.

He added that as from Monday, the body of Benedict XVI will be lying in state in the Basilica so that the faithful who wish to do so may pay their last respects with prayers and a final farewell.

Normally the Dean of the College of Cardinal presides at a pope's funeral. It has never happened before that a current pope has presided at the funeral of a former pope.

Source

Vatican News

"I would like to ask all of you for a special prayer for Pope Emeritus Benedict, who, in silence, is sustaining the Church.

"Let us remember him. He is very sick, asking the Lord to console and sustain him in this witness of love for the Church, until the end," Francis said.

Francis made the surprise appeal at the end of his audience at the Vatican Wednesday morning, Rome time.

After the audience, Francis went directly to visit Benedict.

Francis regularly visits with Benedict, but informal reports say recently he has been a more frequent visitor.

Updated over night

Overnight, NZ time, Reuters reports a statement from the Vatican saying Benedict's health has worsened due to his age, but he was receiving constant medical attention and his condition was under control.

Bishops around the world have joined in the call for prayer for the former Pontiff.

"This morning I received the news that there is great concern in Rome about the health of Pope Emeritus. And so we especially want to include him in our prayers," German Cardinal Reinhard Marx, Archbishop of Munich, told churchgoers.

Cardinal Matteo Zuppi, head of Italy's bishops conference, asked Italians to keep Benedict in their thoughts "in this moment of suffering and trial".

Until a few weeks ago, those who had seen Benedict said his body was very frail but his mind was still sharp.

Italian news reports said he had been suffering from respiratory problems over the Christmas period.

Source

• Reuters
• Reuters

The Jesuit priest made the observation in an interview with Avvenire, the newspaper of the Italian bishops, on the occasion of his upcoming 80th birthday, which he will celebrate on 29 August.

In the interview published on 22 August, the priest, who was also provincial superior of the Italian Jesuits and director of the Vatican Television Centre, recalled that he was able to accompany Benedict XVI "for almost his entire pontificate from 2006 until his resignation from the Petrine ministry in February of 2013″.

Lombardi stressed that Benedict XVI "is a scholarly man" and would define him as "a pope theologian with very clear ideas".

Read More

In the 728 years that have passed since St Celestine established this legal precedent, the right of a pope to resign remains ensured in church law.

The law is not very detailed, saying only that the decision must be made freely and "duly manifested". No one needs to formally accept a pope's resignation for it to be valid.

The canonist Geraldina Boni told Catholic News Service, "It is no longer inconceivable for a pope to resign, with this door having been ‘opened,' as Francis himself has said several times".

However, she added "this situation must be regulated".

Boni also suggested the need to regulate issues such as what to do when a pope is unable to govern the universal church when he is completely, permanently and irreversibly impeded or impaired because of a debilitating illness or other conditions.

Boni and other canonists launched a project in 2021 to draft legislative proposals that could be studied and discussed on an online platform. The aim is to present the suggestions to "the supreme legislator", the pope, for his consideration.

One of the proposals is on the legal status or "canonical condition of the bishop of Rome who resigned his office."

Many of the suggestions mirror the approaches taken by retired Pope Benedict.

For example, the proposal says "the manifestation of the resignation must preferably be put into writing and ordinarily presented in a consistory of the College of Cardinals or in another way that makes it publicly knowable".

However, some of the suggestions depart from Pope Benedict's actions, the biggest of which is the retired pope's title.

Instead of "pope emeritus," the proposal says the retired pontiff "receives the title of bishop emeritus of Rome," and he "uses the ring that every bishop must wear". Photos of the retired Pope show him wearing the cardinal's ring.

"The bishop emeritus of Rome does not assume or regain the dignity of cardinal nor the functions that are attached to it," the proposal says. It added, "However, in liturgical and canonical matters, the bishop emeritus of Rome has the privileges and faculties attributed to cardinals".

Cardinal-designate Gianfranco Ghirlanda, a Jesuit theologian and canon lawyer, said "Having two people with the title of ‘pope,' even if one added 'emeritus,' it cannot be said that this might not generate confusion in public opinion".

The idea of more than one pope at one time "dangerously mixes up the precise meaning of the Petrine ministry. Which is that of being a sign of unity of the church, therefore, one sign of unity of the church," he said in his talk.

Boni told CNS, "We will see if the work done by us university professors has been considered — even in criticising it or departing from it — by the eventual drafters of any papal legislation".

"Certainly, the wide debate that has built up on the issue has helped dismantle a taboo that had no reason to exist," she said of laws on the status of a retired pope.

Sources

• CruxNow

Gänswein is currently the prefect of the papal household and has been Benedict's personal secretary since 2003.

"The last few years have sapped his strength," the Archbishop told CNS.

Gänswein recalled the day a while back when Benedict told him, "I would never have believed that the last stretch of the journey that would take me from the Mater Ecclesiae monastery (where he currently resides) to the gates of heaven with St Peter would be so long." Continue reading

I was getting ready to leave Rome and he was one of the last and most important interviews for the book.

Because of illness, he had to cancel our first appointment and then graciously rescheduled me for a time when most Vatican officials were taking their siestas.

At the end of the interview, I asked for his blessing — something I only did with two other Vatican officials — because I sensed I was in the presence of a holy man.

But I also knew I was in the presence of a man who, as head of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, had done irreparable harm to theological discussion in the church.

There were scores of theologians who had been investigated and silenced by his congregation during the papacy of John Paul II.

Articles and books had been censored.

Professors had been removed from their jobs. Even more, had practiced self-censorship to avoid harassment.

Those targeted included liberation theologians in Latin America, moral theologians in the United States and Europe, and anyone writing about the priesthood.

Some of them were my close friends.

I lived with two Jesuits who spent most of their sabbatical defending themselves from attacks by Rome.

These were not minor figures.

One, Michael Buckley, had worked as the chief staff person for the U.S. bishops' committee on doctrine; the other, David Hollenbach, had helped the bishops write their pastoral letter on the economy.

Ratzinger's problem was that he treated theologians like they were his graduate students who needed correction and guidance.

As a result, my last question to the cardinal was, "Granted the history of this congregation and the church in relation with certain theologians — I am thinking of some who were silenced before Vatican II and then were later acknowledged — do you ever worry that you may be … ?"

He laughed and responded, "Well, every day we make an examination of conscience if we are doing good or not. But finally, only our Lord can judge." In short, you do the best you can.

My own difficulties with Ratzinger began shortly after I became editor of America Magazine, a journal of opinion published by U.S. Jesuits.

When I became editor in June 1998, I wanted to make America a journal of discussion and debate on the important issues facing the church.

I knew there were limits to what we could publish.

There would be no editorials in favour of married priests, women priests or changing the church teaching on birth control. But I thought we could have discussion and debate in articles that did not necessarily represent the views of the magazine.

That summer the Vatican issued documents on the authority of bishops' conferences and on ecumenism and interreligious dialogue.

I asked around to find the best canon lawyers and theologians to write about these documents and published their articles.

I did not tell them what to say.

For the most part, they were polite responses that started by saying what they liked about the documents followed by where they thought the documents failed.

Over my seven years as editor, I tried to get writers who would represent different views in the church.

I published every submission from a bishop (except one).

When Cardinal Walter Kasper submitted an article critical of Ratzinger's ecclesiology, I immediately requested and got a response for publication from him.

I even invited Raymond Burke, then archbishop of St Louis, to explain his position on denying Communion to pro-choice politicians.

But I also published responses from a prominent canon lawyer and the Catholic representative he had targeted.

We also published numerous articles on the sex abuse crisis.

Within a couple of years, Ratzinger, through the Jesuit superior general in Rome, was signalling his unhappiness with the magazine.

It became clear that in Rome's view a Catholic journal of opinion should only express one opinion — the Vatican's. Every document and word from the Vatican should be greeted with uncritical enthusiasm.

Conservative Catholic voices in the United States were also attacking the magazine for not being obedient to the pope.

Interestingly, many of these same voices are now criticizing Pope Francis in a tone I would never have taken with anyone in the papacy.

At one point, the Vatican wanted to impose a committee of bishops as censors for the magazine.

Luckily, Cardinal Avery Dulles and others came to our defence and the idea was tabled.

The final nail in the coffin was a series of articles on gay marriage, starting with one strongly opposed to it by a philosophy professor from the Catholic University of America.

In response to this article, we received an unsolicited article supporting gay marriage by a theology professor from Boston College.

I knew this would be controversial, so I allowed the first author to respond to the response, and thus have the last word. That was not good enough.

Soon after, the word came from Ratzinger that Reese had to go.

For various reasons, the message was not communicated to me until after he was elected pope.

I was not surprised when I heard.

I had already concluded that it was time to go.

Granted my history with Ratzinger, now that he was pope, it was best for the Jesuits and the magazine that I bow out. And although I loved the job, I was tired after seven years of looking over my shoulder.

True, I was angry and depressed, but it soon became clear that once I was no longer editor, no one in Rome cared what I said or wrote.

I was free.

I have enjoyed my post-America career as a writer for Religion News Service and the National Catholic Reporter. And the election of Pope Francis lifted my depression.

I am getting old, and I now want to forgive Benedict.

I want to let it go.

I don't think we really grow up until we are able to forgive our parents for their failures.

Benedict has not asked for my forgiveness.

I doubt he remembers who I am.

He probably still believes what he did to me and to numerous theologians was the right thing for the church, but I still want to forgive him.

I cannot insist that others forgive him, especially those who were abused by priests.

In the early days of the crisis, he was like every other prelate, but he got better over time and faster than did many of his peers.

He ultimately helped the church improve its response to the abuse crisis.

But my experience is in no way comparable to the pain they suffered.

In short, I see Benedict as a holy but flawed individual who did the best he was capable of.

For all of us, that is the best we can say, so we should forgive as we would want to be forgiven.

In the end, as he said, "finally, only our Lord can judge."

• Thomas Reese SJ is a senior analyst at Religion News Service, and a former columnist at National Catholic Reporter, and a former editor-in-chief of the weekly Catholic magazine America. First published in RNS. Republished with permission.

This caesura is not only tied to his decision in 2013 to voluntarily resign the papal office but even more so to the fact that he has now been retired longer than he actually served as Bishop of Rome.

This has marked an extraordinary moment in the life of the Church and now Benedict's recent penitential letter concerning historical cases of sex abuse in the Munich archdiocese he briefly led (1977-1982) must be added to the picture.

The letter was in response to a report on clergy abuse cases between 1945-2019 that said the former pope mishandled at least four such cases during his tenure as head of the Bavarian archdiocese.

Benedict's letter has been received in different ways in different countries.

Some have criticized the former pope's attempt to shift his own direct or indirect involvement in criminal actions to the spiritual dimension, and to make personal conscience decisive in a twist that makes a crime a moral fault to be confessed before God - and God alone.

Echoing the ways German Catholicism has dealt with guilt

As in everything that has been published under Benedict XVI's name in the last few years, we cannot be sure about the true authorship of this letter. We do not know if he really wrote this, or maybe just part of it, or if he is fully aware of what is published with his signature.

But the letter echoes the ways in which German Catholicism has dealt with its historical responsibilities over this past century.

During the years the young Joseph Ratzinger was studying for the priesthood in Chancellor Konrad Adenauer's Germany, there was "collective silence" on the German Church's participation in the Nazi regime.

Not all Germans were silent, however. In 1946, immediately after World War II ended, the German-Swiss philosopher Karl Jaspers published a collection of the lectures he gave at the University of Heidelberg between the end of 1945 and the beginning of 1946.

The book, which was called The Question of German Guilt (Die Schuldfrage), examined the culpability of Germany as a whole in the atrocities of Hitler's Third Reich.

Jaspers, who had to leave his university post in 1937 mainly because he was married to a Jewish woman and was subject to a publication ban, distinguished between four different kinds of guilt.

From criminal to moral guilt

There is criminal guilt, where "jurisdiction rests with the courts". There is political guilt which "results in me having to bear the consequences of the deeds of the state whose power governs me […] jurisdiction rests with the power".

There is moral guilt: "I am morally responsible for all my deeds […] jurisdiction rests with my conscience". And finally, there is metaphysical guilt: "jurisdiction rests with God alone".

Despite the obvious and enormous differences between the culpability of Germany and of German Catholics as a whole in the Nazi regime on one side and of Catholics in the abuse crisis in the Church on the other side, there are lessons to be drawn which has not escaped German theologians. See, for example, a recent book by Julia Enxing.

Benedict's letter can be seen as an attempt to reduce the question of guilt to sin, and therefore to metaphysical guilt.

This fits a certain pattern, not just of the German Catholicism in which Joseph Ratzinger grew up, but also of institutional Catholicism as a whole in dealing with the revelations of abuse.

In the Church's relationship with the public square in the context of the abuse crisis over the past decades we have seen

1.) the dominance of criminal guilt (the legal strategies and courtroom approach) and

2.) especially after the shift of 2017-2018 (from Australia to Chile, to the McCarrick case, to Germany), the rise of political guilt (given the consequences of the nationwide investigations on the relationship between Church and State).

What is still largely missing is moral guilt, because it is something that involves a much larger number of Catholics.

Germany's fundamental contributions to dealing with abuse

The history of abuse in the Church is not just a history of the small number of perpetrators and Church leaders who knew about the abuse, covered it up and protected criminals from justice.

It's also the history of the much larger number of Catholics who for a long time knew something about the problem of abuse in the Church, but only much later became touched by those stories and decided to become part of the solution.

German Catholicism has, since 2010, become a model of constructive response to the abuse crisis. Look, for instance, at Germany's fundamental contribution to the creation in 2012 of the "Center for Child Protection", now "Institute of Anthropology: Interdisciplinary Studies on Human Dignity and Care" at the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome.

Led by the German Jesuit Hans Zollner, it is the most important centre for forming the future generations of Catholic leaders in best practices for dealing with the issue of abuse.

This initiative happened during the pontificate of the German pope, Benedict XVI. And, to a certain extent, it is fair to say that was also thanks to his pontificate.

German history is instructive in helping us understand the trajectory of the Church's reckoning with the abuse crisis.

The ways in which Catholics have dealt with the Holocaust are distinctly different from the ways in which they are dealing with the abuse crisis, given the uniqueness of the Shoah. But there are parallels that can teach us a few important lessons.

Lesson No. 1

The first is that the process of elaborating collective responsibility in tragedies involving the Church is a long one, with different phases, and with temporary setbacks due to the tendencies of the institution to defend itself.

A case in point is the major statement the Holy See's Commission for Religious Relations with the Jews issued on the Holocaust in 1998.

The text, called We Remember: A Reflection on the Shoah, included some problematic declarations that undercut a clear affirmation of the Church's responsibility for some of what occurred during the Nazi era.

Cardinal Edward Idris Cassidy, the commission's president, was well aware that some of the additions that that the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith — then led by Cardinal Ratzinger — insisted be added to his text as a condition for its release were inaccurate, if not outrightly false.

Cassidy decided wisely that the value of that document outweighed the inclusion of what he knew were misleading assertions.

The process of the Catholic Church dealing with its responsibilities in Nazi anti-Semitism has continued. There are setbacks in the Church dealing with the scandal of abuse, but it is no longer possible to go back to the denialism that was typical up until a few years ago.

Lesson No. 2

The second lesson is that the Church dealing with the abuse crisis must take into account different dimensions of guilt.

For Catholicism today, the most difficult is the moral guilt, which must be translated in changes in theology and doctrine. It is the most difficult because it is not something that can be outsourced to the mass media, the police and justice system, or the power of states and governments.

It is something Catholics must do themselves, listening to the victims and survivors, their families, and outside experts (historians of psychological and social sciences, of medicine, of mentalities etc.).

This breadth of expertise is necessary to develop a deep theological comprehension of the phenomenon of abuse in the Church as something that is common to all human communities, but with distinct features in terms of institutional failures and spiritual consequences.

It takes time but this is the right path.

Lesson No. 3

The third lesson is a disturbing difference from the post-World War II period.

Now the question of guilt is not just about what happened in the past.

It is also something like proleptic guilt for what we fear or know is about to happen: more scandals and revelations of abuses in the context of the apocalyptic mood of contemporary culture — especially the looming environmental disaster.

Now the dominant disposition is existential anxiety about the future — not just the future of the Church, but also the future of the world. Vatican II was intent on reading the "signs of the times", but we are now intent on reading the signs of end times.

Catholics must reject shallow optimism and instead look for hope.

Christian hope recovers the tragic dimension of history, in a deeper appreciation of the past - looking at the past as suffering seeking redemption.

We have barely started to recognize that the tragedy of abuse in the Church is a locus theologicus, a key source for the development of the Christian tradition.

• Massimo Faggioli is a Church historian, Professor of Theology and Religious Studies at Villanova University (Philadelphia) and a much-published author and commentator. He is a visiting professor in Europe and Australia.
• First published in La-Croix International. Republished with permission.

They said his response reflected the Catholic hierarchy's "permanent" refusal to accept responsibility for the rape and sodomy of children by priests.

Benedict's letter received a lukewarm reception from bishops in Germany, while victims' organisations expressed disappointment, anger and dismay.

Victims accused the former Cardinal Ratzinger of still not taking direct responsibility for abuses there.

Bishop of Essen, Franz-Josef Overbeck told the Catholic newspaper Neues Ruhrwort that he fears Benedict's statement won't help abuse victims work through what happened to them.

Overbeck said he notes with concern that "people affected by sexual violence have reacted with disappointment and in some cases also indignation to the former pope's comments on his time as archbishop of Munich and Freising".

A member of the victims' advisory board of the archdiocese, Richard Kick, said in a radio interview on Tuesday that those affected by sexual abuse were being fobbed off, while the Pope Emeritus was glorifying himself.

Kick said that Pope Benedict's statement had caused him "deep indignation and even more frustration". He pointed out that he had assumed no responsibility for cases in which serial abusers had been reinstated in pastoral care.

In his statement, Benedict asked forgiveness on Tuesday for any "grievous faults" in his handling of clergy sex abuse cases but denied any personal or specific wrongdoing. Yet the Pope's apology has disappointed and angered victims.

"I have had great responsibilities in the Catholic Church. All the greater is my pain for the abuses and the errors that occurred in those different places during the time of my mandate.

"Each individual case of sexual abuse is appalling and irreparable. The victims of sexual abuse have my deepest sympathy, and I feel great sorrow for each individual case".

His statement came after an independent report criticised his actions in four cases while he was archbishop of Munich, Germany.

The ‘Munich Report' faulted the handling of decades of abuse cases by a string of church officials, including Cardinal Ratzinger.

Benedict, 94, the former Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, headed the archdiocese from 1977 to 1982.

The report faulted Benedict's handling of the cases and accused him of misconduct for failing to restrict the four priests' ministry even after they had been convicted criminally.

The Bishop of Limburg, the Most Revd Georg Bätzing, who chairs the German Catholic Bishops' Conference, tweeted: "Pope Emeritus Benedict had promised to speak out. Now he has kept his promise. I am grateful for that, and he deserves respect".

The present Archbishop of Munich and Freising, Cardinal Reinhard Marx, also welcomed the letter.

But, he emphasised that he took the report very seriously, "which also deals with personal and institutional responsibility, especially with regard to the leadership level" and that he and the diocese would act on the recommendations, together with victim organisations.

Sources

• Church Times
• Religion News Service
• HuffPost