Biden's closed-door meeting with Pope Francis and the discussion in the Catholic world

Biden's visit to the Vatican, the second Catholic president in US history, and especially his private meeting with the Pope behind closed doors, has provoked debate in the Catholic world. A conservative American bishop, Strickland, even called Francis a serpent, though he has since deleted the insult and apologised; I, however, keep everything on record.

What exactly is wrong with this meeting?

The Vatican insists that closed doors are the norm for a papal audience with heads of state. The public is left to speculate: what went on in there? Among the main theories is that the absence of a live broadcast and the admission of the church press pool alone are connected with Biden's condition: he might have stumbled, expressed himself indistinctly, forgotten words, and so on. The footage shown to the public, naturally, was edited with the blessing of the Holy See and the president's office.

The second theory, more scandalous, concerns a possible communion and confession of Biden to Pope Francis, who ought not to have given communion to a man, and one of such influence at that, who publicly denies church doctrine, in particular by speaking in favour of abortion. One may recall the address to the bishops by Cardinal Ratzinger, Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, later Pope Benedict XVI, on refusing communion to persons who obstinately persist in grave public sin.

As for the insults showered on the Pope by high-ranking clergy, however, one may recall canon 1373: “A person who publicly incites hatred or animosity against the Apostolic See or an Ordinary because of some act of ecclesiastical office or duty, or who provokes disobedience against them, is to be punished by an interdict or other just penalties”, up to and including excommunication. Accordingly, Strickland and his sympathisers Altman and Allen were given to understand that an acquaintance with the deep jungles of the Amazon was a distinct possibility, or the creation of an Archdiocese of the Arctic Circle, where there is no internet; and he was soon and heartily apologetic for conduct beneath Christian dignity.

Nevertheless, this has not silenced those who call Francis and his five predecessors usurpers, urge the Pope to renounce the title “Vicar of Christ on Earth”, and ask whether calling Bergoglio, or any of his Vatican II predecessors, “Vicar of Christ” or “Pope” does not in itself incite hatred or hostility towards the Apostolic See.

Unfortunately, this whole discussion is nothing new, and it vividly testifies to the schism in the Catholic Church, which is becoming so frequent a subject of discussion in the United States. It is no accident that in the Synod convened by Pope Francis for 2021–23 only 62 of 192 dioceses take an active part. This cannot fail to grieve, and to set one wondering whether, in the twenty-first century, in an age of instantaneous spread of information and the freedom to voice one's opinion to an unlimited audience, a single Catholic and apostolic church can continue to exist.

Some call the supporters of papal reforms impious Pharisees; others hold that Francis tramples the faith of Christ underfoot; still others recall the words of Robert Bellarmine, the accuser of Giordano Bruno and Galileo: “The Church is so bound to the Pope that, if he errs, the whole Church must of necessity err.” It seems to me, for my part, that the very possibility of burning debates on theological and spiritual themes in our time means that not all is yet lost.