Yet at his six-month mark, which falls today, Pope Francis is drawing better reviews on those five scores than anyone might reasonably have anticipated back on March 13, either in terms of the magnitude of the task or the background of 76-year-old Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio of Buenos Aires, Argentina.

When he stepped onto the balcony overlooking St. Peter's Square, this was immediately a pope of firsts: the first pontiff from the developing world, the first from Latin America, the first non-European in almost 1,300 years, the first Jesuit and, of course, the first to take the name Francis. The new pope charmed the world that night by humbly asking the crowd to bless him before he blessed them and by referring to himself as "bishop of Rome" rather than more exalted titles.

Since that memorable debut, Francis over and over again has demonstrated a capacity to surprise.

He plunges willy-nilly into crowds, to the delight of the masses and the horror of his security team. He speaks his mind with sometimes startling frankness, such as his famous "Who am I to judge?" line with regard to gays. He makes phone calls to people out of the blue, including ordinary folks who've written him to share some personal struggle, and involves himself daringly in the issues of the day, such as his recent full-court press against military strikes in Syria.

This week, Francis was back in the headlines twice. On Tuesday, he visited a facility in Rome run by the Jesuit Refugee Service, where he proposed that unused convents and monasteries could be converted into housing for immigrants and refugees. On Wednesday, the Italian daily La Repubblica splashed a letter from the pope across its front page, written to a renowned leftist and atheist journalist, assuring him that God's mercy reaches nonbelievers, too.

Make no mistake: Francis is a phenomenon, a force of nature who's raised expectations, upset predictions, created a new sense of possibility, set tongues wagging and, in some quarters, sent anxieties soaring, all in the short span of half a year. Continue reading

Sources

• John L. Allen Jr. in National Catholic Reporter
• Image: Today's Catholic News

John L. Allen Jr. is NCR senior correspondent.

When I decided, months ago, to resign all of my official duties on the occasion of my 85th birthday, I assumed I would never see fulfilled my dream that — after all the setbacks following the Second Vatican Council — the Catholic church would once again experience the kind of rejuvenation that it did under Pope John XXIII.

Then my theological companion over so many decades, Joseph Ratzinger — both of us are now 85 — suddenly announced his resignation from the papal office effective at the end of February. And on March 19, St. Joseph's feast day and my birthday, a new pope with the surprising and programmatic name Francis assumed this office.

Has Jorge Mario Bergoglio considered why no pope has dared to choose the name of Francis until now? At any rate, the Argentine was aware that with the name of Francis he was connecting himself with Francis of Assisi, the world-famous 13th-century downshifter who had been the fun-loving, worldly son of a rich textile merchant in Assisi, until at the age of 24, he gave up his family, wealth and career, even giving his splendid clothes back to his father.

It is astonishing how, from the first minute of his election, Pope Francis chose a new style: unlike his predecessor, no miter with gold and jewels, no ermine-trimmed cape, no made-to-measure red shoes and headwear, no magnificent throne.

Astonishing, too, that the new pope deliberately abstains from solemn gestures and high-flown rhetoric and speaks in the language of the people.

And finally it is astonishing how the new pope emphasizes his humanity: He asked for the prayers of the people before he gave them his blessing; settled his own hotel bill like anybody else; showed his friendliness to the cardinals in the coach, in their shared residence, at the official goodbye; washed the feet of young prisoners, including those of a young Muslim woman. A pope who demonstrates that he is a man with his feet on the ground. Continue reading

Sources

• Hans Kung in National Catholic Reporter
• Image: The Guardian

Theologian Fr. Hans Küng writes from Tübingen, Germany.

In a word, it's well worth the read.

The book first appeared in Spanish in 2010, and it's invaluable as a guide to the thinking of the pope across a wide range of issues — from Capitalism and globalization to interreligious dialogue and feminism, even matters of leadership style.

"The bad leader is the one who is self-assured and stubborn," the pope writes at one point. "One of the characteristics of a bad leader is to be excessively normative because of his self-assurance."

Those lusting for a bumper crop of new papal norms, in other words, may be in for a few lean years.

Though he doesn't exactly come off as a laugh riot, Francis even serves up a couple of quips. Discussing a certain strain of feminism that he believes promotes a masculine model of gender conflict, he refers to it tongue-in-cheek as "chauvinism with skirts."

One caution is in order: It's not always possible to draw a straight line between views expressed prior to election to the papacy, and what someone will do once they're actually in the job.

Famously, then-Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger expressed opposition to Turkey's candidacy to join the European Union in a 2004 interview with Le Figaro, but as pope he upheld the Vatican's standard line, which is neutrality as long as certain human rights guarantees are met (especially religious freedom).

That said, for those wondering where Francis will come down on any number of issues — priestly celibacy, end-of-life care, refusal of communion to Catholic politicians who break with church teaching, and so on — On Heaven and Earth is the best early guide out there. Continue reading

Sources

• John L Allen Jnr in National Catholic Reporter
• Image: The Malaysia Insider