Religion: The Princes of the Church

At 9:30 one morning last week, Pope John XXIII, walking briskly, crossed the threshold of the Vatican’s Consistory Hall, followed in order of seniority by 29 purple-clad cardinals. As soon as he was seated on his throne, the papal master of ceremonies cried out, in accordance with” the rubrics of this historic ritual, “Extra omnes [Everyone outside]” A host of attending bishops and monsignori, the chamberlains and members of the Noble Guard bowed to the throne and withdrew; the doors were closed. The Pope, Bishop of Rome, Vicar of Christ, and absolute ruler of the largest religious body in Christianity, was left alone with his princes.

Thus began the secret consistory at which the Pope formally elevated ten new cardinals. After reading an address in Latin that paid tribute to 17 cardinals who have died in the past three years, and after praising the courage of churchmen behind the Iron Curtain, the Pope read off the names of his choices. At the end he asked, in the time-honored ritual phrase, “Quid vobis videtur? [What do you think?]” In the sign of an assent that is now automatic, the cardinals doffed their scarlet zucchetta (skullcaps). The Pope pronounced the words of appointment: “By the authority of Almighty God, of the Holy Apostles Peter and Paul and of ourself, we appoint”—and here, one by one, the Pope named the men—”to be cardinals, in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” Thus the Sacred College of Cardinals was raised to the highest membership in history—90, including three cardinals in pectore (in the breast), whose names the Pope has never revealed.

The doors to the hall were opened, and papal messengers delivered biglietti, the formal written notices of elevation to the purple, to the eight new cardinals who were in Rome for the ceremony.* As usual with precedent-cracking Pope John, a certain surprise went with the biglietti. The majority of cardinals are already bishops or archbishops before they receive their red hats; at the consistory the Pope announced that he would raise all twelve of the present cardinals who were not bishops (including two of the new ones) to bishoprics at a special ceremony next month.

A Whim of the Pope. A cardinal, according to an old Roman riddle, is a whim of the Pope; he must vow absolute obedience to the will of the man who holds the See of St. Peter, must get explicit papal permission to leave Rome or its suburbs. But a cardinal is also, next to the Pope, the most privileged and the most powerful cleric in the Roman Catholic Church. As one of the most spectacular dressers of Christendom, he has to lay out at least $3,000 for his cassocks and skullcaps of scarlet and purple* (which are worn during Lent, Advent and other times of penance and mourning), his white lace rochets, silk sashes, and the splendid cappa magna — a 15-ft-long scarlet train worn on solemn liturgical occasions. As a member of the church’s senate, a cardinal advises the Pope on church policy, helps run the Vatican’s huge bureaucracy, and will elect one of his number to the papacy when John XXIII dies. But he is also a prince; letters to him from Catholic kings are properly addressed “Dear Cousin.”

In the early persecuted days of the church, cardinals—according to one theory of how the title originated—were men who aided the Pope by knowing their way around the bureaucracy of the Roman Empire. Because of their ability to swing between affairs of church and state, they became known as “hinge” men (the Latin word for hinge is car do}. Later the title was applied to the bishops of Rome’s seven suburban dioceses, the priests in charge of the city’s ancient parishes, and the deacons who handled church administration. This symbolic ranking of cardinal-bishops, cardinal-priests and cardinal-deacons is still preserved in the Sacred College, although by canon law all Princes of the Church must be at least priests.

As Well Run as G.M. Under Pope John, 53 of the church’s princes served abroad as papal ambassadors or bishops of dioceses stretching from Tokyo to Munich. The other 34 cardinals, including eleven non-Italians, work in Rome as the papal cabinet, running the Curia. It is one of the oddest bureaucracies in the world, yet one of the most efficient. In 1960 the American Institute of Management rated the Roman Catholic Church, found it about as well run as General Motors.

The government of the church, which first took shape under strong-minded Pope Sixtus V in 1588, consists of twelve congregations—ministries would be the secular equivalent—three tribunals, five other offices. They handle every church problem from heresies to legitimatizing births. Among its most significant branches:

∙THE SUPREME SACRED CONGREGATION OF THE HOLY OFFICE. “In Rome,” says an old Vatican saw,”fear goes by the name of the Holy Office.” Founded in the 13th century to combat heresy, the Holy Office ran the Inquisition, still edits the Index of Forbidden Books, preserves Catholic dogma from error, sets the terms of marriage for Catholics who wed non-Catholics. Operating under security rules that would do credit to the CIA, the Holy Office keeps its files under lock and key forever; anyone who spills its secrets is subject to automatic excommunication, revocable only by the Pope himself. One of three congregations over which John XXIII presides (the others: the Consistorial Congregation, the Congregation for the Oriental Church), the Holy Office is managed by Alfredo Cardinal Otta-viani, 71.

∙THE SACRED CONSISTORIAL CONGREGATION. As the church’s Department of the Interior, the Consistorial Congregation supervises and changes the boundary lines between dioceses, advises the Pope on naming new bishops (except in missionary and Eastern Rite lands). Headed by Carlo Cardinal Confalonieri, a smooth, elegant bureaucrat with 35 years’ experience in the Vatican, the congregation also receives the stewardship reports that each bishop must present to the Pope every five years.

Among its lesser duties: watching out for the welfare of sailors and immigrants.

∙THE SACRED CONGREGATION FOR THE ORIENTAL CHURCH. Founded in 1862, it supervises the liturgical practices and canon law of 11 million Catholics who belong to five major Eastern Rites, worship in more than ten different languages, including English (used by Ukrainian Byzantines in Pittsburgh) and Ge’ez (used by 30,000 Catholics of the Ethiopic rite). The congregation’s work is supervised by its prosecretary, newly created Gabriel Acacio Cardinal Coussa, 64, a bearded Melkite (Syrian Catholic).

∙THE SACRED CONGREGATION FOR PROPAGATING THE FAITH. The missionary arm of Rome, it watches over 35 million Catholics in Asia, Africa and much of Latin America. Concerned about the struggle of the church with Communism in these areas, Pius XII appointed one of the Vatican’s wisest old hands as prefect: Gregory Peter XV Cardinal Agagianian, an Armenian who holds the ancient title of Patriarch of Cilicia.

∙THE SECRETARIAT OF STATE. The top job in the Vatican’s Foreign Ministry was left vacant for 14 years under Pius XII (who preferred to carry on his own diplomacy), is now held by pudgy Amleto Cardinal Cicognani, 79, longtime (1933-58) apostolic delegate to the U.S.

∙THE SECRETARIAT FOR CHRISTIAN UNITY. One of the newest of Vatican bureaus, this secretariat is not considered part of the Curia, nonetheless rates as one of the most influential (and most public) branches of the church’s government. It serves as the liaison office between Rome and non-Catholic churchmen, will handle the invitations to Protestant and Orthodox leaders who are expected to attend the Second Vatican Council in October as observers. The presiding cleric: Augustin Cardinal Bea, 81, a German Jesuit who was confessor to Pope Pius XII.

The Papabile. Recently, one of the older cardinals (average age, 70) was asked by a newsman how the Princes of the Church spent their time. “They work all day long,” he answered, “but don’t write that. Nobody would believe it.”Actually, despite Roman cynicism which insists that dilata (delayed) is the Curia’s favorite word, cardinals who are well enough to work put in fairly busy days. One of the busiest of such active cardinals is the Consistorial Congregation’s Confalonieri, who was made a cardinal (along with 22 others) at Pope John’s first consistory in 1958, given his present, powerful job last year. A moderate with few enemies in the Sacred College, Confalonieri is of the right, ripe age (68), and has the right kind of diplomatic temperament to be considered papabile—capable of becoming Pope after John XXIII dies.

Confalonieri ranks relatively high in the ever-fluctuating scale of Vatican influence. Probably the most powerful of Roman cardinals is Holy Officer Alfredo Ottaviani. Almost totally blind, Ottaviani is not likely to succeed Pope John, partly because his political views are too conservative by modern Vatican standards, partly because too many cardinals fear the authoritarian rule he might impose. Ottaviani might well try to throw the next papal election to another conservative, such as Giuseppe Cardinal Siri, 55, Archbishop of Genoa. A brilliant administrator, Siri is notorious for his opposition to ecclesiastical innovation: although most of the dockworkers in his diocese must work mornings, he refuses to allow pastors to say Mass in the afternoon.

Within the college, liberal cardinals look for leadership to Bologna’s Giacomo Ler-caro and Milan’s Giovanni Montini. Both men have fought to clean out Communism from Italian labor unions. Best known of possible compromise choices is Agagianian, who according to Roman gossip came within a handful of votes of winning election in 1958. Then, as now, some cardinals would not vote for him out of dislike for having “a Pope with a beard.” Another Roman papabile is not yet a cardinal: Archbishop Pericle Felici, 50, secretary-general of the Central Preparatory Commission for the Ecumenical Council. A veteran of 15 years in the Curia ranks, Felici will undoubtedly win a red hat. at the next consistory if the Vatican Council is a success.

Outside Italy, few cardinals have much influence on the slow-turning wheels of Rome. New York’s Francis Cardinal Spellman was a trusted confidant of Pius XII, is not so close to Pope John. But, as boss of the nation’s richest diocese, he carries more weight than the four other U.S. archiepiscopal cardinals, Richard Gushing of Boston, Albert Meyer of Chicago, James Mclntyre of Los Angeles, and Joseph Ritter of St. Louis. Also respected is Polish Primate Stefan Wyszynski, whose skillful battle to keep the church alive in a Communist land is admired by the Pope.

John XXIII has done much to internationalize the College of Cardinals, by giving Japan, Uruguay, Mexico, Venezuela and the Philippines their first red hats. But he has also placated conservatives by rewarding a flock of little-known Vatican veterans for their loyal service, done nothing to internationalize control of the Curia.

The Curia’s Critics. Although non-Italian cardinals are all formally assigned to congregations, few enjoy sitting in on the daily work when they are in Rome. Resident professionals often resent the presence of outsiders, conduct all business in Italian, a language that their visitor may not understand. Since nearly all dioceses in the world are short of priests, bishops are reluctant to let their best men work in the Vatican. Moreover, few non-Italian priests want to give up the hope of becoming a bishop for the life of a church bureaucrat. “I’d rather be a bishop in the poorest diocese in the world,” admits one priest now in the Vatican, “than a cardinal in the Roman Curia.”

Seeming to stress the Roman more than the Catholic, the College of Cardinals and the Curia it operates have come in for sharp criticism from some Catholics, and suggestions for a bureaucratic reform have been sent in by non-Italian bishops for inclusion on the agenda of the Vatican Council. One of the most common requests : more freedom for diocesan bishops to adapt church practices to the needs of their people. One of the sharpest attacks in recent years came from Italian Jesuit Riccardo Lombardi (TIME, Feb. 2), who urged that Curia officials step down after reaching a mandatory retirement age, deplored the splendiferous costumes of cardinals and bishops, recommended that Curia officials be chosen from the best men available in the world, rather than in Italy. Lombardi’s plea was bluntly censured by L’Osservatore Romano, in an article reportedly written by Archbishop Felici. But the winds of change have been felt in the broad, quiet Vatican halls, and reform of the cardinalate and the Curia may come from Pope John’s successor.

In the church, cardinals are, as they should be, men of awe, whom Pope John last year compared to the marvelous wheels in the sky seen by the prophet Ezekiel. The Princes of the Church, he said, are men who “move around the throne of the most highest, who have no concern except for his glory, except to carry forward his fiery chariot, who when they touch the earth transform it with the ardor of their charity.”

*Jose da Costa Nunes of Portugal; Efrem Forni, the apostolic nuncio to Belgium; Archbishop Juan Landazuri Ricketts of Lima; Gabriel Acacio Coussa of Syria; Archbishop Raul Silva Henriques of Santiago, Chile; Archbishop Leo Suenens of Malines-Brussels; Dominican Father Michael Browne; Vatican Librarian Anselmo Albareda. In accordance with tradition, Giovanni Panico and Ildebrando Antoniutti, the apostolic nuncios to Portugal and Spain, will receive their red hats from the heads of state in those countries. — Cardinals who belong to religious orders wear robes that are the same color as the habit of their order.