It sometimes seems that we live in a time without leaders.
Congress is pathetic. When it bothers to work at all, we see would-be presidential candidates whose preening and pandering would be humiliating if they were at all self-aware.
We find we look to sports, or to people like Bill and Melinda Gates, for examples of human initiative.
For leadership requires a prophetic sense and guts. There is always risk in leadership.
But there is one great exception to our leaderless age — Pope Francis.
Eight years into his papacy, and now at the age of 84, he keeps on, through his own highs and lows, and not only with doggedness but that necessary prophetic sense and courage.
The pope’s March 5-8 trip to Iraq is a prime example. It was a risk on many levels. And it will not be understood as the profound act it was by many.
Most of the media’s reaction has been: That was nice.
But this Pope does not go for nice and is not himself particularly “nice.”
This Pope is a bulldozer of a man, who believes in the radical change made possible by the mercy of Jesus of Nazareth.
So, Pope Francis went to one of the most war-torn places on Earth; with some of the worst ethnic and tribal rivalries ever (in 2017, the State Department said that the Islamic State engaged in genocide against the Iraq’s Yazidis and other minority groups); and one of the oldest and most persecuted Catholic populations, to preach. He went to Iraq to give the message of reconciliation, coexistence, and love.
The Pope visited four cities, including Mosul, the former ISIS fortress where churches were destroyed.
He walked among the ruins.
He said Mass in the open air where bombs fell and bullets flew for so long.
He reached out to the broken and oppressed of a land he called “martyred.”
And the dispossessed reached back toward him, in large crowds and at risk to themselves.
Joseph R. Biden, Jr., only the second Catholic President of the United States, often quotes Pope Francis. He has called him a personal hero. He said this about the Pope’s trip: “To see Pope Francis visit ancient religious sites, including the biblical birthplace of Abraham, spend time with Grand Ayatollah Ali al-Sistani in Najaf, and offer prayers in Mosul — a city that only a few years ago endured the depravity and intolerance of a group like ISIS — is a symbol of hope for the entire world.”
Pope Francis’ visit, said Mr. Biden, “… sent an important message that ‘fraternity is more durable than fratricide, that hope is more powerful than death, and that peace is more powerful than war.’”
This is the true scope of the Pope’s visit to Iraq.
Yes, he built a bridge between Christians and Muslims.
And, yes, he may have made life a little safer and better for Catholics in Iraq.
But, more than these things, by walking with some of the most hurting people in one of the most ravaged places on Earth, he showed us what fraternity looks like, and what hope might feel like.
Some called this trip reckless. Some called it audacious. The Pope called it a “duty” — an act of witness.
This was the true, pure audacity of hope — the most hopeful and honest act of pastoring, and leadership, that the world has seen in a very long time.
First Published March 11, 2021, 5:00 a.m.
