Cardinals in the Conclave, People in the Pews

My foraging for juxtapositions is often rewarded by coming upon a page in the daily newspaper, something – who knows – we may not have around much longer.

This past Sunday, on the first page of its International section, the New York Times ran this banner headline:  “Scandals and Intrigue Heat Up at Vatican Ahead of Papal Conclave.”  The story on the left, sure enough, was about the sad state of affairs in Catholicism as a whole during these days following the announcement of Pope Benedict’s resignation — with accusations flying all over the place, in-fighting and power struggles.

The story on the right, however, cast a completely different light on this religion in at least one part of the world.  Sub-titled “Church Helps Fill A Void in Africa,” the piece presents a moving portrayal of why Catholicism is experiencing “explosive growth” in Nigeria and many other African countries.

People are flocking to churches here, simply put, because they are able to get many of their basic needs met inside.  With crumbling institutions and rampant corruption outside, the church offers people refuge on number of levels.  Father Ikechi, the priest of Christ the King in downtown Lagos, who celebrates at multiple packed services on any given Sunday, describes what brings his parishioners here, over and over: “…what they face is huge.  So they tend to come to God as their last resort.”In the same article, Bishop Matthew Hassan Kukah, also in Nigeria, is quoted as saying this:  “The church offers the best schools, social services, medicine.  The God talk in Africa is a mark of the failure of the economic, social and political system.”

So we have on the one hand a small group, 115 total I think, of cardinals who will meet behind closed doors to choose a new pope. They can separate themselves only temporarily from the torrent of scandals outside; I heard one prominent Catholic woman from Great Britain say on the radio, “If the church doesn’t reform, it won’t survive.”  Whoever is selected will be one of them, too, so we can only imagine what might be going on in the minds of those who are considered  “papal contenders.”  What a wonderful term, bringing to mind – dare I say? – a boxing ring crowded with white-haired men in robes.   But of course, as we have all been reading in recent days, it’s possible that this time the pope might, just might, be from a continent other than Europe and might, just might, not be white himself.

But to get back to what we have on the other hand:  millions of people, around the world, who turn to their church for sustenance, for solace, for sanctuary.   They don’t play any role in choosing their new leader, but they know what they’re looking for when they go through the huge doors each time.

Since becoming a pastor’s wife, I have tried to pay particular attention to the different kinds of pulls people feel towards church services.  And it is a wide range, bringing to mind in a way William James’s classic The Varieties of Religious Experience.  While in our part of the world, most people wouldn’t say that they are seeking to fulfill their most basic needs – food, shelter, security – there, maybe seeking spiritual fulfillment or peace is not in fact in a whole other category.  Depending on how you look at it, finding this could be as essential as finding a place to lay your head for the night.

My husband has been talking with me some recently about one of the main goals he has in his work as bishop:  to encourage people in the pews to see themselves as every bit as “important” in carrying out the Gospel as church leaders are, and most especially when they are doing their regular daily work in the world, carrying out their vocations.  Sundays are church days, yes, but most of our living goes on during the other six days of the week.  We can see ourselves as nothing short of holy when we’re fixing a roof,  working behind a desk, doing experiments in a lab, teaching students or just being with our own children – if we’re doing these things with devotion and integrity. This is actually where it’s at.

With this way of seeing what ordinary people can offer, it’s more disturbing somehow to consider the vast chasm that too often exists between those who hold the reins of power – anywhere – and those who must rely upon institutions to offer them life-giving resources.   May the former never lose sight of the latter, whether it be in a conclave (not in the cards for most of us) or in a regular board meeting somewhere or even in a hallway conversation between teenage friends about how to treat an outsider without much social cachet.  We never know when we might be able to help someone fill a void in a positive way, and we ought to stand always at the ready.