The Francis revolution: no flattery, no valets, no pomp, no ceremony

Andrea Tornielli
Vatican Insider
July 9, 2013

It’s a pleasant sultry summer afternoon in Rome and two Swiss guards and a Vatican policeman, all in uniform, stand in front of the entrance to St. Martha’s House, home to the Pope and another forty or so bishops, monsignors and lay people who work in the Vatican. It is a sign the Holy See’s top man is about. The white and yellow flag with the Vatican crest hangs limply in front of the windows on the second floor of the anonymous rectangular building which John Paul II had built in the mid 90’s to give cardinals taking part in the Conclave a decent place to stay.

Now we are in Francis’ living quarters. Guests take the semi-circular staircase that leads down to the austere and slightly cold hall. There, standing behind a bar is an Oriental looking layman in a tobacco-coloured suit. All is silent. One can feel it’s summer even inside St. Martha’s House and guests know Bergoglio could pop out from just about anywhere, at any moment: from the elevator, from an opening door, from the dining hall or from one of the sitting rooms. Everyone needs to look their best when the Pope is about.

In the hall way there is another Swiss Guard and Vatican policeman in plain dress. “I was seated in a sitting room with green upholstery. The Pope appeared out of nowhere, alone, without any butlers or secretaries and he was carrying an envelope with some rosaries,” says an anonymous source who was received by the Pope in a private audience. “At the end of our meeting he opened the door for me himself and showed me the way out.” No other scene can better describe the change that is taking place in the Holy See. St. Martha’s House is half-way between a hotel and a pilgrim’s residence: there is almost no trace of that courtly feeling you get in the apostolic palace with its renaissance-like dignity. St. Martha’s House is the ideal starting point to our journey through the most important changes introduced by the Argentinean Pope, the small and big breaks with protocol and their significance. Francis’ choice to stay put in the residence where he stayed as a cardinal elector during the Conclave was taken for “psychiatric reasons” because he did not want to be isolated. As he wrote to his friend, the Argentinean priest Enrico Martinez, also known as “Quique”: “I am visible to people and I lead a normal life. A public Mass in the morning, I eat at table with everyone…”

There are no butlers to serve the coffee, just a bog-standard vending machine in the main hallway. Francis’ room is suite number 201, on the second floor: bare white walls, a sitting area with a couple of armchairs and a desk, a glass bookcase, some Persian rugs, a slightly over-polished light coloured parquet floor, a bedroom with an imposing dark wooden bed and a bathroom. This suite used to be reserved for the Pope’s important guests such as the Patriarch of Constantinople, Bartholomew I. When Francis received the patriarch, he apologised for stealing his room. But Bartholomew was happy for Francis to have it. The two rooms that are adjacent to the Pope’s are where his two secretaries live: one of them, Alfred Xuereb, was “inherited” from his predecessor and the other, Fr. Fabián Pedacchio, he picked himself. These two men are less powerful than their immediate predecessors. Jorge Mario Bergoglio continues to see himself as a priest in service of God and therefore of others. He does not see himself as a monarch and has not changed one bit since his big election day on 13 March, when he found out he would not be using the return ticket he had bought to Buenos Aires.

And so, Francis, the Pope next door, decided to carry on living here, moving to just a couple of doors down from room 207 where he stayed during the Conclave. He decided not to move into the Papal Apartment, normally assigned to Popes and members of their closest entourage. Francis was overwhelmed by the size of the place: “There’s room for three hundred people in here!” It is certainly no palace, but it is easy to imagine the reaction of a cardinal who up until then had been used to living in a two-room living space and making their own bed each morning.

The first changes could be seen during the Conclave. The minute he was elected and even before he put on his white robes, Francis went to embrace Cardinal Angelo Scola, his “rival”, during the scrutiny phase of the papal Conclave. Then came his refusal to wear one of the forty five pairs of red shoes prepared for the occasion. He preferred his big black ones. More than a question of taste, it was a question of comfort as he found his worn in shoes more comfortable to walk in. He did away with the red mozzetta and lace rochet, the gold papal cross and the flashy 18 carat papal ring, the Popemobile with the “SCV1” registration plate, the flagship car in the Vatican car fleet which is now made up of more sober, utility vehicles. And he there’s no police escort following him around the miniscule Vatican State 24/7.

The small Vatican world which Mgr. Marcinkus defined “a village of washerwomen” initially let these things slide and then tried to adapt, as was seen two days after Francis’ election, when all cardinals who greeted the Pope in the Clementine Hall had swapped their jewel-encrusted golden crosses for iron or silver ones.

There are two elevators in St. Martha’s House and one is usually kept free for the residence’s most important guest. But Francis often takes the other one too. One day, two bishops saw him entering it quickly before the doors shut and pressed themselves up against the back of the elevator feeling a little embarrassed. The Pope smiled at them and said in Spanish: “No muerdo”, I don’t bite. There are all sorts of stories like this going round and occasionally blown out of proportion, like the time a Swiss guard who had finished his night shift was apparently seen taking Francis a sandwich. The Pope loves walking. On Saturday 16 March he politely declined the motorcade which was to accompany him 50 metres down the road, as if to say: “Are you kidding me?” Another time, as he was going out, he met a bishop standing outside the entrance to St. Martha’s House and asked him: “What are you doing here?” “I’m waiting to be picked up,” the prelate said. “Can’t you just walk?” Francis replied.

Pope Francis is extraordinary because he is “normal”. He refers to old words in the Gospel in a new way. “His words are so striking because they are a unique illustration of what a genuine person he is,” Professor of Church History, Andrea Ricacrdi, said.