Wednesday, 20 November 2013

A man of our time, for all time: and for all humanity.

I deliberately didn't write here last week - although it seemed once more as though the world must surely have to stop for more than just Remembrance day... I still can't believe you've been gone 9 years. But I was determined that if I was going to write, it had to be something positive. And today, I've found the very thing.

More than once, since March, I've sat back and imagined your triumphant shout of laughter, followed by a gleeful chuckle as I've read about the latest adventures and edicts of Pope Francis. Here is a man who is a living embodiment of the plea to "be the change you want to see in the world". This is the man who said that if a gay person "seeks God and has good will, who am I to judge", and who personally telephoned a pregnant single mother to tell her that if her local priests would not baptise her illegitimate child, he would do it himself.

When I first moved to Italy, I spent hours in rapt fascination learning about the gory matyrdoms of the early saints. But the Saint I've come to love best is Saint Francis, who to me represents what the church was always supposed to be: the church that people like you and I wanted to believe in when we were young and didn't know each other, and that by the time we met we had both turned away from - irrevocably in your case - because the institution that existed before us bore too little resemblance to the things we thought the powers that be would want us to hold dear. And in the absence of strong leaders, the truly good men and women - from Mother Teresa to Archbishop Tutu, from the hardworking Don Mauro of Morimondo to my football-reffing, film-festival founding Anglican vicar grandfather - seemed like anomalies rather than the rule.

And yet, their hard work persists. You'd have appreciated - like no-one else I know - the moment I shared with my cousin Denise a few weeks ago, outside the Villa d'Este at Tivoli. Here, outside this epic monument to cardinal excess, stands a statue of that other Francis, a perfect symbol of humble service. Dee stopped to take endless pictures because "it's so rare to see him depicted like this, looking like the Saint that I know".

That this pope chose that name said much about his intentions. It's thrilling now to see him translating ideals into action for a thoroughly modern world. He's more popular than Obama on the Internet, and his twitter tag (yes, he has one! @pontifex. Get in!) is the 4th most used in that particular fly by night universe. He has already become one of the great liberals of our time. 

Now all we need is for him to make a quick call to Tony Abbott, to tell him to stop being a knobend, and that his policies on refugees, on climate change and a host of other things, are offensive to God.



And if a call from him could bring you back, I'd write to him, and pray.