Not long after Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio was chosen Bishop of Rome in March 2013, observers began saying his pontificate marked a “return to normalcy”.

It was probably not immediately evident to his fellow cardinals that this Argentine Jesuit, a son of Italian immigrants, was poised to do more than just clean up the Vatican, as they had asked him to do.

They must have figured out rather quickly that the pope who took the name Francis was also bent on demythologizing and reforming the papacy.

He began doing so through a number of symbolic acts and gestures that were aimed at showing members of the Roman Curia and Catholics around the world that being the Roman Pontiff did not make him holier and closer to God than other believers or more of a bishop than other men in the episcopate.

He refused to wear the ornate accessories and jewellery that have traditionally been part of papal attire; he decided to make use of a simple compact car instead the luxury sedan of his predecessors; and he even went and personally paid the bill at the clergy guest house where he lodged before the conclave.

“After all, I am only a man myself!”

He also stopped people from genuflecting before him and kissing his ring.

Pope Francis seemed to be saying to the entire world, just as Saint Peter had said to Cornelius the centurion: “Stand up; after all, I am only a man myself!” (Acts 10,26)

One of the other very human things the new pope did at the start of his pontificate was to think about his living arrangements.

His predecessors of the past hundred years or so had resided in the papal apartments inside the Apostolic Palace. But Francis decided to stay at the Santa Marta Residence where he and the other cardinals were accommodated during the conclave.

The choice was hailed as a sign of his love for simplicity and a symbolic act of solidarity with the poor. And perhaps it was yet another example of a return to normalcy.

Perhaps. But most of all it was a tactical decision that, to this day, remains one of the most important of his pontificate.

A chance to be free and more normal

Living at Santa Marta — which is hardly the second-rate motel some of the pope’s hagiographers make it out to be — has given Francis a greater freedom to conduct business, meet with people and come-and-go in a way that would have been extremely difficult and much more scrutinized had he lived in the Apostolic Palace.

It has also made him a lot more present and visible — and normal-seeming — to the other residents (mostly priests who work in the Roman Curia) and steady flow of guests with whom he takes his meals and celebrates daily Mass.

Familiarity breeds contempt, as the saying goes. And there are many in Rome’s clerical class who remain deeply disturbed by all this so-called normalcy.

Among them are people in some important Vatican posts, who believe Francis has dishonored the papal office by his refusal to follow its monarchical protocols.

These officials are actually upset because they are no longer the ones with privileged and near-exclusive access to the pope.

The common touch of John Paul II

In fairness it must be said that Pope John Paul II also tried to demythologize the papacy.

Before the newly-elected Jorge Bergoglio ever appeared on the balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica and identified himself the “Bishop of Rome” who came “from the ends of the earth”, Karol Wojtyla appeared in the same spot more than three decades earlier and noted that the cardinals had just elected “a new Bishop of Rome from a faraway country”.

John Paul sought to be a pope among the people, making regular visits to parishes in Rome and travelling tirelessly around the globe, often being abroad for several days and even up to two weeks at a time.

Like Francis, he also shunned most of the traditional accessories that were part of the papal wardrobe. An exception was his regular use of the long red cloak that the Supreme Pontiffs inherited from the Roman Emperors. (Admittedly, it worked better than the white “first communion” coat Francis prefers.)

Additionally, the Polish pope invited groups of “regular folks” to the Mass he celebrated each morning in his private chapel, inviting the more notable among them to join him afterwards for breakfast. But despite his desire to be among the people, John Paul allowed his gate-keepers to do what they do best — keep most of the hoi polloi at a distance.

Creating a personality cult

John Paul also had a huge personality and commanding presence. And his Vatican handlers — mostly notably his longtime Opus Dei “spokesman”, Joaquin Navarro-Valls — used the pope’s captivating charisma and lofty office as the precious raw material to create a personality cult around him.

Navarro gave new meaning to the term “gilding the lily”. He helped craft the script for what became in some ways a stage-managed pontificate, especially toward the last few years of John Paul’s long reign.

As the effects of Parkinson’s took their toll, the enfeebled pope could barely move or speak. And, most likely at his own stubborn insistence, his aides tried to devise ways to mask his deficiencies so he could continue presiding at liturgies and holding daily audiences with groups and individuals.

“I’ll have eternity to rest,” John Paul would say each time he was advised to relinquish certain activities.

And when he could no longer walk, the “papal chair” was permanently mounted on a small platform with wheels. It was a like a small, mobile throne.

A wheelchair

The idea of using a normal wheelchair — as Pope Francis began doing this past week — was out of the question back then. The pope, after all, is not a normal person.

And it was already being suggested that the Polish pope would one day be called John Paul the Great. Indeed, he was the man who brought down the Berlin Wall and did oh so much more.

This, of course, was the thinking of many of the people in John Paul’s entourage. But one wonders if, at some point, the aging pope began believing these things and whatever else people were whispering in his ear.

When even bishops, cardinals and other high-ranking Church officials began talking openly about whether John Paul would resign from the papacy, he would exclaim, “Christ did not come down from the cross!”

The risk of being infected with a messianic complex

Putting aside the fact that one of the pope’s traditional titles is “Vicar of Jesus Christ”, every man who sits on the Chair of Peter runs the risk of being infected with a messianic complex, especially when his aides and adulators have an exaggerated idea of what he is capable of doing or being.

The current pope does not enjoy any supernatural immunity to this same danger. Francis also has aides, friends and “papal groupies” who put him on a sort of pedestal, though one that’s very different from the lofty perch on which others tried to put John Paul II.

The Jesuit pope must continue to tune out their hosannas and reject attempts by anyone to make him think he has powers and capabilities he simply does not have.

Francis has been such a refreshing and encouraging spiritual leader for our times precisely because he has dared to be just a normal human being and normal Christian.

For the sake of us all, pray that he continues to be so.

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