I've read sports reports that speak of Girona FC's difficulties in "the fight to survive." They refer to the risk of relegation from the Second Division. But it can't be denied that the concept, read in the abstract, has a great philosophical meaning. Because "the fight to survive" is a fairly accurate definition of the concept of life. This fight is what drives every living being. But it's also the fight of collectives, of societies, of ideas. To exist is important. To shine, to excel, even more so. But to remain, ah, this is already very big. And since this is forbidden to us as human beings, because we are the pulse and the pulse we will always be, things that last fascinate us, a kind of antiquarian's passion.
Believers have it easier, because faith brings them the conviction of eternal life. The Church itself is an example of permanence: two thousand years of power and spiritual leadership. That's why Vatican intrigues are so seductive. That's why so many people are fascinated by the papal succession, the intricacies of the conclave, Latin phraseology, and ancient rites. The Church has paid dearly for its immobility—and quite rightly so—but conservatives are not wrong when they say that the Vatican's power also derives from its immutable character. In the film The two popes (Fernando Meirelles, 2019), Cardinal Bergoglio presents his reformist program to Pope Ratzinger, and the latter responds: "If the Church marries its era, it will become a widow in the next." But the truth is that the Church's financial and moral scandals led Ratzinger to retire while still alive, for the first time in 700 years. And Bergoglio was his successor.
Pope Francis has been a reformer who has only half-heartedly succeeded, proving that pontiffs always come to power too old to undertake truly profound changes. True, he has done some housecleaning, pursued pedophilia scandals and sectarian behavior (with the brilliant collaboration of the Catalan Jordi Bertomeu), and attempted to combat clericalism and the power of the Curia, with frequent trips to the periphery of the global Church. But on core issues such as celibacy, the role of women, and respect for sexual diversity, the Church remains stuck in a distant past. To put it like Ratzinger, the Church is already a widow of its time.
The new incumbent of the Sant Pere chair will also have to face, like Girona, the "fight for permanence." Because there is no doubt that ecclesiastical authority has diminished in the West, while it has struggled to find its place in the emerging Eastern powers. Javier Cercas's bestselling book, God's fool at the end of the world, explains Francis' visit to the minority Catholic community in Mongolia. The emotion with which Cercas describes the daily struggle of Christian missionaries and volunteers is moving; but what is most valuable, above all, is that Francis, already advanced in years, traveled halfway around the world to support a small and isolated community. It's worth noting, however, that he hasn't visited Spain, one of the strongholds of European Catholicism, which has earned him much dislike in the Episcopal Conference, which already greeted Francis' appointment with skepticism due to his leftist tendencies.
Without disregarding Girona, whom I wish the best of luck in the remainder of the league, it is the conclave in Rome that is attracting the world's attention, because even for non-believers, it is important that Catholicism renew itself, put an end to the scourge of abuse, stop scolding dissidents, and support those most in need in a world under threat. A world in which "the fight to survive" is now universal.
