A pope who has failed to connect with the modern world
Kevin Rafferty says the pope's legacy of a wounded church may be too great a test for his successor
Soon after Benedict XVI announced he was quitting as pope at the end of this month, the Vatican was hit by a drenching thunderstorm in which violent lightning appeared over the top of St Peter's basilica. But was this an omen for good or ill for the first voluntary resignation of a pope for hundreds of years?
Benedict was the most intelligent man to be pope in centuries, probably the best theologian, a wonderful writer, and personally charming; but as both cardinal and pope, he was burdened by his lofty view of the responsibilities of office.
He will leave a church that is both flawed and wounded by his leadership. Its recovery will not be easy, not least because he and his Polish predecessor, John Paul II, appointed all of the cardinals who will choose the next pope, all men, mostly cast in Benedict's stern image, correct in doctrine, utterly opposed to contraception, abortion, gay marriage, married priests, women priests, all things that much of the rest of the world takes for granted.
Years ago, I had personal experience of the charm yet steely uptight personality of Benedict. I was editor of , the British Catholic newspaper, when Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, as Benedict then was, was visiting Cambridge University.
He was the head of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, the successor body to the unholy Inquisition, and had won a reputation as "God's Rottweiler" for his dedication to preserving the purity of Catholic doctrine from questioning theologians.
I pleaded for a chance to talk to him, if not for a formal interview. He refused. But he did allow me to take his photograph, and tamely agreed to go to the rooftop for a better shot, smiling but steadfastly resisting anything beyond innocuous small talk.
