Now when the radical priest come to get me released
We was all on the cover of Newsweek

Paul Simon, Me and Julia

Let’s start with a different Pope. Let’s start with the Pope who came of age in Poland while it was enslaved for decades under the Soviet Union after WWII. He’s the Pope who went home after the Sistine Chapel routine to accept the adoration of literally millions of his countrymen.

He’s the Pope who helped bring down the tyranny of the Soviets who knew all about military power but nothing about the spiritual kind. He’s the Pope who nearly died in an assassination attempt apparently masterminded by those same Soviets and carried out by a Turkish thug with aid from another enslaved country, Bulgaria.

He’s the Pope who publicly forgave his Muslim attacker, downplayed the attacker’s Soviet and Bulgarian connections in order to keep the peace, and asked that the attacker be pardoned. The would-be assassin was duly pardoned, went back to Turkey, and converted to Catholicism.

He’s St. John Paul II.

I join tens of millions of Poles – and hundreds of millions of Catholics, fellow Protestants and other people of faith around the world – in loving that man. (I once saw him at the conclusion of a pilgrimage but that’s a different column.)

The current Pope was born Jorge Mario Bergoglio in Argentina, and took the name Francis when he moved to Rome. The Cardinals thought they were showing real strategerie in picking a guy from Latin America. There’s lots of alleged Catholics there, and their numbers grow every day. In contrast, in Italy there aren’t even many putative Catholics, even fewer real ones, and their numbers are dwindling every day as Italians make a religion out of defying the Church’s birth control prohibitions.

Pope Francis is known for what he doesn’t like. He doesn’t like Israel. He doesn’t like Ukraine. He doesn’t like America. He doesn’t like Europe. He doesn’t like the best tool in history for alleviating material suffering – capitalism. 

However, he does like food. He likes to lecture people about their morals. Like all Argentinians, he likes inflation. He likes Karl Marx. But (or is it “therefore”?) he likes the most lavish palace in all of Christendom, the Vatican.

But let’s give the radical priest his due. He just came out against the gender-bender stuff. You can’t just change your gender, he says. That constitutes playing God. Only God gets to play God.

To be sure, however, it’s still Francis who gets to tell us what He says when He does.

But hey, this is a start! We have a world leader who thinks or at least says that having virtue is more important than signaling it, and that Christianity is a greater religion than wokeness.

The congregations of the woke are crying “blasphemy!” They had trusted Francis to toe the line, drink the Kool-Aid, and carry their tin cross. And he had, so far.

The problem for the woke is, the radical priests of Latin America may well be Commies and may even be gay, but they’re not transexuals. Buenos Aires is not Bangkok.  Intersectionality doesn’t go as far as intersexuality.

Francis likes to wear a dress and wears a lampshade for a hat, but don’t be fooled. There are no trannies in Argentina. John Paul II is probably glad.