Love and Family

Friday, May. 06, 2016

Pope Francis proved me wrong again.

When his apostolic exhortation on love in the family was published, I knew I’d have to read it rather than just peruse news articles about it even though I didn’t think it would pertain to me because I’m not married, I’m not in what the Church terms an “irregular union,” and I don’t have kids.

I am, nonetheless, part of a family, as “Amoris Laetitia” points out. I am a daughter, sister, aunt, niece and cousin, and the document has plenty to say in that regard.

In fact, much of the advice Pope Francis has for families can be applied to everyone, and he puts things the way a grandfather might, seated on the front porch, smoking a pipe and just waiting for a kid (of any age) to come for counsel.

Here’s one piece I particularly liked: “We treat affective relationships the way we treat material objects and the environment: everything is disposable, everyone uses and throws away, takes and breaks, exploits and squeezes to the last drop. Then, goodbye.”

Don’t those words just strum your heartstrings? Who hasn’t sometimes felt that other family members call only when they want something? And, being honest, don’t you on occasion treat some of them the same way?

Others more qualified can debate exactly what Pope Francis said about marriage in the Catholic Church, but despite what I’ve read in some of the secular press, he had very plain words about the need to uphold the Sacrament of Marriage as an exclusive, permanent union between one man and one woman that is intended for the procreation and education of offspring. 

Nevertheless, he admits that ideal has a way of being shattered by real life, and “Amoris Laetitia” lists a number of ways it can happen: infidelity, abuse and abandonment among them.

Responding to these challenges, Pope Francis says: “In such difficult situations of need, the Church must be particularly concerned to offer understanding, comfort and acceptance, rather than imposing straightway a set of rules that only lead people to feel judged and abandoned by the very Mother called to show them God’s mercy.”

Reading that, I was reminded of a story I reported on years ago, about a mother with several young children who was the victim of racist graffiti. In the course of interviewing her, I asked whether her parish was helping her; she said she’d been told not to come to Mass again until her children were older. 

Even back then, as a secular journalist, I was stunned. As much as I get distracted by children squirming in the pews, I would never presume to suggest they shouldn’t be there; didn’t Jesus say “Let the children come to me”? I couldn’t put my feelings into words, but Pope Francis certainly does: Talk about being abandoned by the very ones who should be showing mercy!

It’s not surprising that the theme of mercy wends its way throughout the exhortation. I think my favorite line in this regard is “We put so many conditions on mercy that we empty it of its concrete meaning and real significance.”

Here again Pope Francis is describing me, but rather than being mortified by my guilt, I am comforted that, as he says, “the way of the Church is not to condemn anyone for ever; it is to pour out the balm of God’s mercy on all those who ask for it with a sincere heart.”

I strongly recommend “Amoris Laetitia” as reading material. Its message of mercy is for everyone, if we are willing to read it with an open heart.