On Religion
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Cardinal George Pell had no way to know that he was preaching his final sermon – ever

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Cardinal George Pell had no way to know that he was preaching his final sermon -- ever

Cardinal George Pell had no way to know, as he rose to preach during a spiritual retreat in southern Italy, that this was his last sermon – opening with the biblical cry, "Repent, because the Kingdom of God is near."

Catholics should stay focused on truths proclaimed during the reigns of St. John Paul II and Pope Benedict XVI, he said, at the Shrine of St. Padre Pio in San Giovanni Rotondo.

These popes "were missionaries of the truth. We don't build the truth. We don't have the ability to change the truth. We can only acknowledge the truth, and sometimes the truth isn't all that pretty. Sometimes the truth is disconcerting, difficult," said Pell, three days before his death on January 10, after routine hip surgery.

"These two Popes did not affirm that the teaching of Jesus was conditioned by the time, by the Roman Empire, by the pagans. They did not claim that the essential and central teaching should be updated, radically changed. They didn't say: 'We don't know what Jesus said because there were no tape recorders.' … As for them, and also for us, Jesus remains the way, the truth and the life."

On this day, the burly 6-foot-4 cardinal faced a gathering of Catholic charismatics, not an audience of Vatican power brokers. Nevertheless, this final sermon – translated from Italian by Inside the Vatican magazine – touched on themes in his recent writings that fueled raging debates about Pope Francis and the modernization of Catholic doctrines and worship.

In that sermon, Cardinal Pell offered only one nod to Pope Francis, while noting the potential for future popes from Africa, Asia and the Global South. "Today we have a Pope from South America – praiseworthy and good," he said.

But after Pell's death, Italian journalist Sandro Magister revealed that the Australian cardinal – using the pseudonym "Demos" – had written a fierce March memo circulated to members of the College of Cardinals focusing on issues that loom over the next conclave to select a pope.

The Francis pontificate has been "a disaster in many or most respects; a catastrophe," this memo claimed.

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A lingering Theophany mystery: The 'holy water flowers' that refused to fade

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A lingering Theophany mystery: The 'holy water flowers' that refused to fade

After the Christmas season and before Lent, Orthodox priests have – for centuries – rushed to visit church-members' homes to bless them with prayers and splashes of holy water flung about with a foot-long brush or handfuls of basil.

Droplets of blessed water end up on beds and bookshelves, TVs and toys, potted plants and paintings, along with everything else.

"It's a chance to start over," said Father John Karcher of St. Nicholas Orthodox Church in Portland, Oregon. "We clean out the cobwebs of sin. … Then we make mistakes and muck it all up again. But we do this every year because God doesn't give up on us."

These rites flow out of the Feast of Theophany, which many Orthodox churches in America celebrate on January 6, or on January 19th for those using the ancient Julian calendar year-round. In addition to house blessings and liturgies, Orthodox clergy bless bodies of water – rivers, lakes and oceans. In some parts of the world this requires man-sized holes cut into ice.

The feast's central message, said Karcher, is that "when Christ was baptized, he went into the waters and the waters didn't cleanse him – it was the other way around. He blessed the waters and through them all of creation. … It's a beautiful thing. God responds to our prayers that he sanctifies the waters – again."

In one rite, priests pray that the blessed water will provide "a fountain of incorruption, a gift of sanctification, a loosing of sins, a healing of sicknesses, a destruction of demons" so that worshippers will experience "the cleansing of souls and bodies, for the healing of sufferings, for the sanctification of homes and for every useful purpose."

The mysterious nature of these rites hit home a decade ago when Karcher led St. Innocent Orthodox Church in the Bay Area in northern California.

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The future Pope Benedict XVI was concerned about modern Europe – for decades

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The future Pope Benedict XVI was concerned about modern Europe -- for decades

In a rite before the funeral of Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI, Vatican officials placed unique symbols of his pontificate inside his cypress casket, along with a scroll in Latin describing his ascent to the Chair of St. Peter.

"His faith and family upbringing prepared him for the harsh experience of the problems connected with the Nazi regime, aware of the climate of strong hostility towards the Catholic Church," said the English translation of this "rogito," or deed. "In this complex situation, he discovered the beauty and truth of faith in Christ."

After deserting the German army without firing a shot, Josef Ratzinger began his theology studies and, in 1951, was ordained a priest. He emerged as an intellectual voice preaching hope, as opposed to mere optimism. The future pope's sobering views on modern Europe would affect his entire career – as well as debates about his legacy when he died.

"This so-called Christian Europe … has become the birthplace of a new paganism, which is growing steadily in the heart of the Church, and threatens to undermine her from within," said Ratzinger, in a 1958 lecture. This modern church "is no longer, as she once was, a Church composed of pagans who have become Christians, but a Church of pagans, who still call themselves Christians."

Four years later, the 35-year-old priest advised Cardinal Joseph Frings of Cologne during the historic Second Vatican Council, emerging as a "progressive" on reform issues, yet one who saw painful challenges ahead.

"From the crisis of today the church of tomorrow will emerge – a church that has lost much," he warned, on German radio in 1969. "As the number of her adherents diminishes, so it will lose many of her social privileges. In contrast to an earlier age, it will be seen much more as a voluntary society, entered only by free decision. As a small society, it will make much bigger demands on the initiative of her individual members."

Ratzinger envisioned a "more spiritual church" with no political mandate, "flirting as little with the left as with the right. … It will make her poor and cause her to become the church of the meek."

These words grew in importance when he became an archbishop in 1977 and then a cardinal. Later, Pope John Paul II made him prefect of the Vatican's Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, where his orthodoxy inspired liberals to pin a "God's Rottweiler" label on the bookish, even shy theologian.

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All those attacks on churches? Were they part of the year's top religion-beat news story?

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All those attacks on churches? Were they part of the year's top religion-beat news story?

In the years before Roe v. Wade, one of America's largest Christian flocks struggled to find a way to condemn abortion, while also opposing bans on abortion.

A 1971 resolution said: "Some advocate that there be no abortion legislation, thus making the decision a purely private matter between a woman and her doctor" while others "advocate no legal abortion," permitting it "only if the life of the mother is threatened." Thus, it backed legislation allowing "abortion under such conditions as rape, incest, clear evidence of severe fetal deformity, and carefully ascertained evidence of the likelihood of damage to the emotional, mental, and physical health of the mother."

After the 1973 Roe decision, the same body stressed the "limited role of government" in abortion questions, while supporting a "full range of medical services and personal counseling" for expectant mothers.

That was the Southern Baptist Convention – before its conservative wing gained control, creating a powerful cultural force against abortion rights.

Churches were always active in abortion debates, with some embracing centuries of doctrine on the sanctity of human life, while overs became strategic abortion-rights supporters. Thus, journalists in the Religion News Association named the Supreme Court decision to overturn Roe v. Wade as the year's top American religion-news story. Now churches – left and right face – face the challenge of proclaiming certainties while many states seek compromise.

Stressing politics, the RNA stated: "The Supreme Court overturns the 1973 Roe v. Wade precedent and says there is no constitutional right to abortion, sparking battles in courts and state legislatures and driving voters to the November polls in high numbers. More than a dozen states enact abortion bans, while voters reject constitutional abortion restrictions in conservative Kansas and Kentucky and put abortion rights in three other states' constitutions."

This poll avoided other religion-news elements of this story, such as acts of violence against churches – especially Catholic parishes – and crisis pregnancy centers, ranging from vandalism to arson, from the interruption of sacred rites to the destruction of sacred art. Protestors marched at the homes of SCOTUS justices and police arrested an armed man who threatened to invade the house of Justice Brett Kavanaugh.

This year, the RNA added an international list, selecting Russia's war against Ukraine as the top story, in part because of bitter tensions between the Russian Orthodox Church and the new Orthodox Church of Ukraine, backed by the United States and the Orthodox Ecumenical Patriarchate in Turkey.