I started reading the autobiography of Pope Francis a
few days back as mentioned in an earlier post that was inspired by
chapter 2 of the book. I’m reading the book slowly, taking my own sweet time,
because I want to savour every line of this book which carries so much
superhuman tenderness. The book ennobles the reader.
The fifth chapter describes a few
people of his barrio that the Pope knew as a young man. Two of them are young “girls”
who worked as prostitutes. “But these were high-class,” the Pope adds. “They
made their appointments by telephone, arranged to be collected by automobile.”
La Ciche and La Porota – that’s what they were called.
“Years went by,” the Pope writes,
“and one day when I was now auxiliary bishop of Buenos Aires, the telephone
rang in the bishop’s palace. It was la Porota who was looking for me.”
Pope Francis was meeting her after
many years. “Hey, don’t you remember me? I heard they’ve made you a bishop.”
She was a river in full flow, says the Pope. “I’ve whored around everywhere, in
the United States too,” she said ebulliently. She made a lot of money, married
a much older man who died leaving her with a pension. Now she goes to give care
to some old people who cannot look after themselves. She bathes them. “I don’t
go much to Mass,” she told the bishop (later Pope Francis), “and I’ve done
everything with my body, but now I want to take care of the bodies that nobody
cares about.” Pope Francis describes her as “a modern-day Magdalene.”
A few years later, when he was the
cardinal of Buenos Aires, la Porota called again requesting him to have a
celebration with her friends and to say Mass for them. She asked if he could
come early enough for her friends to confess before the Mass. He gladly
consented.
La Porota made a final call. She was
in hospital then. She requested him to give her “the unction for the sick.”
While talking to him on phone, she was also “swearing at a doctor and shrieking
at another patient.” Pope Francis writes that “she had lost none of her vigor,
not even in her final hours.” She went to her grave with her characteristic
cheerfulness.
What struck me is the non-judgmental
description of a prostitute by a Pope of the Catholic Church. Sex is perceived
as a sin – well, almost – by the Church. Prostitution is an unforgivable sin, a
cardinal sin, that will merit one the eternal fires of Hell. But Pope Francis
didn’t think so. He concludes the story of La Porota, the prostitute, thus:
“But she went well, like the tax collectors, and prostitutes who enter the
Kingdom of God before us (Mathew 21:31). And I was very fond of her. Even now.
I don’t forget to pray for her on the day of her death.”
Now, you must have understood why I’m
relishing this book, Hope, by the Pope.
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Post: From a Teacher’s Diary
Oh such a lovely blog! Provides all the cheer in a dismal present world. Thank you for writing it.
ReplyDeleteI'm going to write more based on this book. I'm in love with it now.
DeleteHari OM
ReplyDeleteOh do share more - this book is clearly lifting your spirit - and ours by default! (I'll add it to my wishlist...) YAM xx
Definitely. I will bring more of the book here.
DeleteSuch a tender anecdote!
ReplyDeleteSome people are incredibly capable of such tenderness.
DeleteIf only people would take that lesson: not to judge people but to be compassionate.
ReplyDeleteIt requires a different sort of sensitivity altogether, I think.
Delete