Remembering Pope Benedict XVI and the time in between

a somewhat regular Catholic's take

In the past few days since the death of Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI I’ve read so many insightful and interesting articles on the impact of Pope Benedict’s life, writings, and papacy upon the Church at large. But what I haven’t seen much of is the regular, ol’ Catholic in the pews take on his papacy, resignation, and legacy. The more I think about our experience as the average person in the Church, so far away from the machinations of the Vatican, the more I think of our life within the Church and history as deeply mysterious.

We are only on this earth for a blink of time when it comes to the life of the Church. We experience the Church in just a small facet of what it actually is, yet the Church contributes a huge part of our experience of the Faith. It’s mysterious. It’s deeply complicated.

My experience of the Church in its hierarchical form is a neat slice of the modern papacy. Pope St. John Paul II was instrumental in my taking the faith I was given as a child seriously as a young adult. His writings foundational in my understanding of theology at college and beyond. Pope Benedict was elected to the papacy while I was at a small liberal arts Catholic college and the expectation and excitement we had at someone so wise holding the keys of Peter was high.

As a adult trying to figure out my place in the church that I would have to create within dying parishes of my town, while having children and facing the extreme responsibility of handing on the faith to them somehow, someway in a world that wants to crush it at every turn, I found a solid trust and safety that at least the Pope was Benedict. He would provide a stream of truth, a deep call to the beauty of tradition, and maybe even stem some of the deep corruption and evil living within the Church in the aftermath of the abuse scandal.

And then 2013. February found me heavily pregnant with my fifth child in less than six years, a small 14 month old toddler in addition to three older toddlers/little kids needed attention almost every minute, I was feeling almost crushed by hormonal anxiety and insomnia I couldn’t shake. Waking up one day to my husband’s texts asking if the news of Pope Benedict was real, my first instinct was that he died. Resignation? There must be terrible misreporting happening. Reading his announcement myself I could only feel devastated. Remembering that morning even now brings tears to my eyes.

It didn’t seem real that someone of his wisdom could make such a historic decision. He understood the perilous position of the Church in the world at that time. He knew the pressure within the Church to capitulate to modern tendencies and ideas of morality from the prelates in the Vatican to the church ladies in the parish. And yet he made his decision anyway.

The grief I felt after his decision I felt for years. I mourn his death now, but know he has gone to his heavenly reward. In 2013 I was mystified and heartbroken. That was the beginning of what would feel like the continual experience of losing trust in institutions to do what they were created to do. Which I may venture to say may become the defining experience of my generations lifetime.

I trust Pope Bendict’s decision, even though I don’t understand it. That’s part of the mystery of life within the Church. We don’t understand this side of heaven. History may not understand it for hundreds of years. I don’t know why God placed me at this point in time to experience His Church at this terrible point of crisis. I also understand that maybe there has never been a point when living life within the Church was not at some point of crisis. This time in Church life is unique, but at the same time, normal.

I do know that personally my experience of the Church over the last 10 years has been pretty terrible. Each year more family and friends fall away from a Church they no longer see the point of. The small parishes I attend keep getting smaller, good priests harder to find. The daily deluge of confusion coming from the voices of the hierarchy only enrage me. Scandal after horrific scandal keep emerging with no attempt from the Vatican to even feign horror or consequence. In (hopefully) the most dangerous time of calamity I may experience, the Church in effect abandoned its duty to supply the sacraments.

I don’t know if Pope Benedict knew that this tumult would happen within just the first decade after his reign as pope. I also don’t know if his prayer, fasting, and life of hiddenness was necessary to bring about graces needed for the Church to persevere through this time. Again, it’s a mystery.

I love Pope Benedict and his writings dearly. And I know that part of the reason I’m still Catholic is because his words and example have let me closer to Jesus and for that I will be forever grateful. May his soul rest in the presence of Jesus and Mary, and may his love for God be a light for us all.