Eloquent

Why were we all so taken by Pope Francis?

I suspect it is because of the man’s overwhelming eloquence. He speaks softly, sometimes almost inaudibly. His words are simple, never in undue abundance. He struggles with the English language although his Spanish is precise even if nuanced.

But he always speaks with his totality, with his eyes, his heart, his whole being. He speaks with sincerity. When he opens his mouth to speak, you witness his soul. That is eloquence. It is a gift.

There is a naughty glint in his eyes. It is as if he is always about to pull a prank, or crack a joke.

Then there is the humility. It is overpowering. Finally, we have a Pope who is not inclined to pontificate. He communicates by his deeds.

Jorge Mario Bergoglio, by all accounts, has always been the simple man we see. Even when elevated bishop, he washed his clothes and cooked his meals. He took public transport to his engagements. He was most comfortable in his battered shoes. He was at home with the poor, the salt of the earth.

His humility disarms. Beneath the charm is an iron will, a mental toughness that will be the envy of the world’s best paid CEOs.

Once, as archbishop of Buenos Aires, he dismissed a class of seminarians en masse because they did not study as hard as he asked them to. When he assumed the papacy, heads rolled at the scandal-ridden Vatican bank. This nearly bankrupt institution has been restored to financial health. The jaded Roman Curia, the deeply rooted bureaucracy capable of defying the Pope or circumventing his instructions, has been sufficiently decimated the past two years.

In Pope Francis, we have a keen mind disciplined in the Jesuit tradition and elevated to wisdom by the constant habit of culling insight from the most ordinary. Extremely polite, he does not rebuff the occasional buffoon wandering into his shadow. But he always sees through them. Look at the expression on his face when he was at Malacanang Palace.

It is easy to love this Pope – mainly because of his immense capacity to love back. He reaches out. The crowds energize him. He is quick to take the injured, the sick, the oppressed and the neglected into his arms. When he saw the horrifying images of death and destruction wrought by Typhoon Yolanda, he pledged to be there to bring solace. And come he did.

Leaders lead by their eloquence. The virtue enables them to communicate with the people. This is why the leadership provided the Church by Pope Francis has been so compelling.

This is why our people are so captivated by the visiting Pope. He came like a great spiritual storm and leaves in the wake of his visit a message to live by: compassion will bring us a better world.

There is a word that came into fashion as the world struggles with the senseless violence of fanatics: desolidarize.  It means putting people we know before abstract categories we might imagine.

Pope Francis put the same idea another way when he threw away his prepared homily. Real people, those you can feel and feel for are more important than grand ideas.

This is the way to be liberated from callous ideologies whose abstract categories dictate the commission of pain on others.

Rude

President Aquino should have studied the way former president Fidel Ramos handled the visit here of Pope John Paul II in 1995. Ramos gave a master class in protocol, diplomatic sensitivity and good taste.

When Pope John Paul II arrived, Ramos did not insist on welcoming him at the airport so as not to distract attention away from what was really the Church’s show. When he received the Pope at the Palace, Ramos remarks were brief and to the point: he welcomed the visitor to the country on behalf of his people and wished the pontiff success in his pastoral mission. Ramos did not hound the Pope’s every appearance like a politician craving attention might have.

Aquino’s long-winded (and therefore hurriedly delivered) speech at the Palace has been the subject of bitter criticism the past days. The speech is criticized as crude, rude, inappropriate and unenlightened. The criticism is well deserved.

But such a speech could hardly be called surprising. Aquino failed every diplomatic test that faced his forgettable presidency. At every opportunity, he could not resist the temptation to be banal, petty, vengeful and insensitive.

The contrast could not have been sharper. The visitor was eloquent; his host had nothing important to say. The visitor was humble; his host was full of himself. The visitor was compassionate; his host was callous.

There must be an edifying lesson here somewhere.