After the death of Pope Francis, on Monday, April 21 — the day after Easter Sunday — I followed the reactions in the Argentine press. I was particularly struck by how two journalists I follow, Jorge Fontevecchia and Ernesto Tenembaum, covered his passing during the week, and especially the impact Jorge Mario Bergoglio had on them, despite both being agnostics.
For example, Fontevecchia — who interviewed the Pope for almost three hours in an exceptional back-and-forth — appeared moved and reflective on Monday when speaking with Marcelo Longobardi, whom he immediately asked, “Do you believe in God, Marcelo?” A few days ago, Fontevecchia wrote a very curious column where he quoted the Catechism of the Catholic Church several times in an attempt to understand what the Holy Spirit is and what role it played in the election of Cardinal Bergoglio as Pontiff. “The Pope makes non-believers believe,” he says at one point.
Another journalist who surprised me with his near-obsession these days with Pope Francis is Ernesto Tenembaum; also agnostic and Jewish, someone I admire for his honesty, intellectual complexity, and search for the truth. Both Fontevecchia and Tenembaum lean towards the left of the political spectrum, and one might think their interest in the Pope is purely because Francis captivated progressives with his policies. And that’s true, but only partly. The “Do you believe in God, Marcelo?” comes from somewhere else.
On the show “540 Grados” on Tuesday, April 22, alongside his colleague María O’Donnell, Tenembaum starts off by saying, “I’m feeling very papist,” which makes her laugh, but he immediately adds that he’s fascinated by Francis as a person. “I’ve been thinking a lot about the image of God lately.” María and Ernesto are two examples of progressives whom the death of Francis affected in very different ways. At one point, Ernesto explains what he’s experiencing: “God has had very bad marketing [with the idea of a cruel being who punishes or serves as an excuse to kill or marginalize people]… and suddenly this Pope appears with a vision centered on ensuring the persecuted, the different, always have a place; suddenly a representative of God who isn’t cruel. For someone like me, raised as an atheist, the idea of a cruel God pushes you away. But the idea of a God who can be a refuge for those in need, brings you closer. And I loved that…” if God understands me and is someone I can turn to in my distress, “then it’s something you can incorporate…” and seeing María’s astonished look, he ends up saying, “I don’t know, am I talking nonsense?” to which his colleague responds that maybe she is even more agnostic than he is, and she continues with a clearly political interpretation of why the Pope adopted those positions of openness (for the survival of the Church), and Ernesto interrupts her to say that, beyond all of that, “what really surprises me is what the Pope has awakened in me, even though I am about as far from the Catholic Church as one could imagine.”
And indeed, what follows is a conversation between someone for whom the death of the Pope is just a passing event, and another for whom Francis has stirred much deeper questions.