When I was a kid I coveted a small plaster bust that had pride of place in my granny’s display cabinet alongside souvenirs of holidays in Bray and the tea service she got for a wedding present.
The little figure had a hooked nose and a severe look. He seemed very regal.
My grandad was no monarchist, but this guy had been crowned in a lavish ceremony attended by other heads of state; world leaders and celebrities craved his attention; and hundreds of millions looked to him as their father protector.
The name inscribed on the plinth was Pius XII.
I don’t know where the statue is now – do you have it Uncle Larry? –but I have outgrown my childish fascination with it, and I now know a little more about the man they call Hitler’s pope (Given how quiet the news is over Christmas, I am sure the editor will welcome a tide of letters on this subject.)
Pius was dead and buried in his triple coffin by the time I was born, but – as someone said in another context – he hasn’t gone away you know. Historians are poring over his record.
The first pope of my lifetime was the avuncular John XXIII – now a saint. I suspect his canonisation was to placate the Church’s left-wingers who were deeply uncomfortable about John Paul II’s elevation to the sainthood.
Call me old fashioned, but I think Mother Church has been too free and easy with halos for former chief executives recently.
None of the six 19th century popes is a saint. Of the eight 20th century popes, four are saints, one is ‘Blessed’ (the rank below), and Pius XII is a ‘Venerable’.
Either the Holy Spirit has improved his game, or the Vatican’s marketing department is finally getting its act together.
Catholicism is, as they say, a broad Church; and its adherents have vastly different opinions on the men chosen to lead it.
In my book, the stand-out pontiffs of my era are John XXIII, John Paul I (who lasted a mere 33 days), and the incumbent, Francis.
Yet there are those, including some princes of the Church (and here I am thinking members of the United States hierarchy), who would prefer to sup with the devil than support Francis’s determination to create a Church which puts people first.
Although he has created a few saints himself, Francis would be horrified at the thought of being one – and that’s part of his appeal.
He has authenticity. And that aspect of his papacy (which is inevitably coming to its close) will underscore the Church’s Jubilee year which begins this evening.
When he opens the Holy Door in St Peter’s Basilica at 7pm, Francis will be inviting the world to join him as ‘Pilgrims of Hope’.
And god knows we need hope right now as the forces of darkness close in on us: the devastating impact of our neglect of the planet, global poverty in a world where the rich are amassing obscene sums of money, the countless victims of warfare, and the enslavement of people who have no agency of their own.
Personally, I have little interest in the indulgences side of this event. Martin Luther got it right on those. My granny doesn’t need anyone’s help to get out of Purgatory (if it still exists).
But I am in favour of people taking time out to reflect on the state of our world, and how we might individually and collectively effect the change in it we want to see.
Like his predecessors, this pope has not always got things right. But, from what I can see, where he has said the wrong thing he has tried quickly to make amends.
And, although many bishops might think he is moving at warp speed; frustratingly for many, the pace of change has still been too slow – particularly where it comes to the role of women in the Church, the position of the laity (who are, after all, the Church itself), and the inclusion of people whose sexuality does not conform to outmoded and discriminatory standards.
In the precious time Francis has left, he must do all he can to copper-fasten changes already made, and ensure that the message of love, represented by the child whose birth we mark at midnight tonight, is shared by each and every one of us.
And when his time comes, there will be people in St Peter’s Square shouting “santo subito” – “sainthood now”.
I won’t wish that on him, but I will be saying a prayer of thanks that we got the pope we needed at the time we needed it.
Happy Christmas and happy Jubilee.