Warning: Spoilers ahead
After watching the film “Conclave,” I felt myself somewhat unsatisfied. For me, it was the vague feeling that though there was tension in the film, the story was lacking an essential value that I could not quite name — at the time.
Ralph Fiennes plays the role of Cardinal Lawrence who is tasked with overseeing a conclave, a secretive meeting of cardinals to select a new pope. From the beginning of the film, problems seem to surface demanding both thoughtful reflection and quick decision-making on the part of the cardinal. His work is made more difficult by the mysterious clerics he meets at every turn. One cardinal, appointed in secret (in pectore), appears just hours before the conclave is about to begin. Another cardinal seems to have been dismissed by the late pope, making his continued presence seem pernicious. One individual is a radical reactionary and hopes to set the church back to before Vatican II. Another cardinal wants to continue the current pope’s plan for progress in terms of openness to the world and dialogue with culture.
There is much by way of tension in the film. In one scene a nun timidly approaches one of the cardinals with a serving tray. Abruptly the cardinal storms off, tossing the tray to the ground. Nothing was said in the scene, and yet we the audience know that somehow this man has disqualified himself. A question then arose as I wondered, Who brought this sister here?
However, in spite of the plot devices and mounting tension of the film, I felt the project to be somewhat superficial. As I reflected on the film I came to understand why. The premise assumes that electing a particularly reactionary conservative cardinal would be a terrible step for the church. It is presumed that a cardinal’s personal politics are essential in determining whether the individual is right to lead the Holy See. As the plot continues, a potential opponent is suggested, and eventually that same person falls out of the race. All this should lead to mounting tension — if you are particularly invested in one candidate winning the office over the others. But it is precisely this attitude which I found problematic.
I don’t believe the church to be a personal project of one political party. The identity of the church is not something that a group of leaders comes together to decide. The church is a gift, a gift we are called to receive with open hearts. A gift that radically supersedes me in all my thoughts and beliefs. Without this awareness, the church becomes a personal project — a project which I may become tempted to “steer” according to my own desires and preferences.
This lesson struck me quite forcefully in my own discernment to join the Society of Jesus, aka the Jesuits. I could search after my own will and make God in some sense want what I want. However, what sort of adventure would it be if I controlled all the action? Jesuit life took on new breath and freedom only as I accepted the fact that (at times) God’s will was not my will. Here the Ignatian idea of indifference becomes essential. Indifference refers to that deep desire to do God’s will and the willingness to set aside anything that hinders me in attaining this end. I was called in my own discernment to prayerfully set all those things aside that stopped me from really following God.
Returning to the film, indifference ought to have been the sole criterion used by the cardinals in the conclave. The source of my dissatisfaction with the film then became clear. The mounting of the tension failed (for me) because, regardless of whether a liberal, a conservative, a reactionary or a traditionalist is elected, the sole criterion for election is knowing that Christ’s decision and desire is for this person. The selection of a pope, the choosing of a vocation, the leading of one’s life cannot and should not be reduced to a particular ideology.
However, the film is a product of its age. It is wrought with political division and intrigue just like our culture. Of course, no one is perfect, and we are constantly being pulled from within by all sorts of desires, both life affirming and life denying. The key, perhaps, to all this is to begin with the end in mind. We are called to love and do whatever Christ tells us to do (John 2:5). If we keep this end in mind, I think we can trust that we will elect the right pope, and, what’s more, we will have a life very well lived.