Many people sense that Pope Francis is doing something new. Not only theologians, but ordinary Catholics, people of other faiths, and secular observers are listening to this pope in a new way because he seems different from previous popes. Some argue that though Francis’ tone is distinct, much of what he is saying and doing was said and done by his predecessors. Others warn that while the new tone may be encouraging, moral norms (especially those related to sex, marriage, and gender) have not changed. James Bretzke does a great service by amassing large amounts of data to show that the “Francis Effect” or difference is both substantive and real.

According to Bretzke, while Popes John Paul II and Benedict saw secularism as the problem and called Catholics to trust in the authoritative teachings of the institutional church, Francis sees the church as a field hospital that embodies the love and mercy of the gospel by going out to heal those wounded by poverty, consumerism, violence, and isolation. In my brief response, I would like to affirm Bretzke's main thesis by highlighting some of the evidence he presents for the Francis Effect, argue that the limits of the effect are evident in Pope Francis’ remarks and actions on gender, and suggest that Pope Francis’ welcoming of frank debate and comfort with diversity may signal the beginning of a new era marked by mercy and inclusion, rather than a victory for progressive or traditional Catholics.

While many point to common themes among the three most recent popes, especially on issues of environmental concern, social justice, and the family, Bretzke rightfully seeks evidence for his “Francis Effect” thesis not only in documents but in the speeches, homilies, and staffing changes that are crucial indicators of the character of the papacy. The continuity of key aspects of Catholic social thought in magisterial writings is important to emphasize, especially for secular observers who may be unaware of the church's long history of critiquing capitalism and supporting the poor. Yet Bretzke convincingly argues that “reading the tea leaves” requires much more than comparing authoritative teachings.

He also highlights actions of Pope Francis, such as choices about what not to wear and how to begin his papacy, important appointments from different ideological factions and geographic regions who were given the task of enacting significant Curia reforms, the appointment of progressive bishops in four US cities who have been the subject of conservative ire, more serious confrontation of the clericalism that enabled the sexual abuse crisis than previous popes were willing to mount, the calling of lay people to the sexual abuse commission as well as the acceptance of Bishop Finn's resignation (the first time a bishop has been forced out because of his role in facilitating clerical sexual abuse), the maintenance of his chosen agenda for the synod even when it meant marginalizing critics like Cardinal Raymond Burke, and the reintegration of moderate theologians and bishops who had been pushed to the sidelines in previous papacies.

Beneath these significant actions is a more subtle change in priorities that is indicative of what Bretzke characterizes as a “paradigm shift.” Though both previous popes wrote important social encyclicals and often modeled humility, Pope Benedict is remembered for his advocacy of theological orthodoxy and Pope John Paul II for his Theology of the Body. Francis has recentered the church on mercy, justice, and healing. In his papal bull, he places mercy at the heart of Christianity, saying, “Mercy is the very foundation of the Church's life.” In his writings, especially Laudato Si’ (2015) and Evangelii Gaudium (2013),Footnote ¹⁰⁶ he has repeatedly emphasized the church's responsibility to the weak and vulnerable and his desire to reach out to those who feel excluded. Though little here is completely new, the choice of what to say frequently (Bretzke notes that Pope Francis is remarkably “on message”) and what not to say at all speaks volumes about priorities. More than Benedict XVI or John Paul II, Francis has managed to convince large majorities of Christians and non-Christians that the church aspires to be an institution centered on mercy and justice.

While Bretzke attempts to include the pope's treatment of gender in his argument for the Francis Effect, here the evidence is weaker and the limits of change are evident. Bretzke emphasizes hopeful signs: an end to the LWCR visitation; staffing decisions suggesting that while women's ordination is not on the table, opposition to it is not a litmus test; appointments of women to key positions; and a call for equal pay rooted in the concept of equality of persons.

However, the pope's attempts to use changes in tone and personnel to new effect on gender issues have been more limited and less successful. On these issues, there is less understanding of the difficulty an all-male clergy presents for contemporary men and women and less sensitivity to the effects of lingering patriarchy in the church.Footnote ¹⁰⁷ While the pope engages the sciences when writing on environmental justice, social science is not explicitly engaged when he speaks or writes about sex and gender. Rather, vague references to “gender ideology” or “gender theory” serve to marginalize whole discourses and block conversation.Footnote ¹⁰⁸ Calls for a new “theology of women” fail to recognize the wealth of feminist theology that exists, and seem to reaffirm the idea that women are different and in need of special analysis.Footnote ¹⁰⁹ While theologians such as Walter Kasper and Gustavo Gutiérrez are re-emerging, women theologians, especially those with feminist sensibilities, remain largely absent from public ecclesial discussion. The pope's references to the “feminine genius” of women theologians, who, he famously said, are “the strawberry on the cake,” have only rarely translated into respect for feminist expertise in theological discussions of sex and gender.Footnote ¹¹⁰

While many Catholic men and women were invited to contribute to the preparation for the Synod of the Family by responding the Vatican's survey, the few women who actually spoke at the synod were those involved in lay family organizations.Footnote ¹¹¹ Women theologians who have devoted a lifetime to scholarship on sex and gender issues from a feminist perspective (e.g., Margaret Farley, Lisa Sowle Cahill, Susan Ross, Barbara Hilkert Andolsen, Christine Firer Hinze, Patricia Beattie Jung, Cristina Traina) were not named as public consultants to the synod, appointed to the committee that drafted the synod documents, included in the colloquium on marriage that followed the synod, or invited to speak at the World Meeting of Families in Philadelphia in October 2015.Footnote ¹¹² At the colloquium on marriage, an international group of scholars and pastors committed to the traditional family gathered, and Pope Francis spoke of the enduring relevance of complementarity with no reference to the work of women theologians who have been critical of it.Footnote ¹¹³ When it comes to sex and gender issues, the attention to mercy, justice, and humility that mark Pope Francis’ approach to other issues is less evident and the paradigm of church remains largely the same. This limits the “Francis Effect.”

Still, the paradigm shift Bretzke documents is significant, and it appears that with the Synod on the Family, significant dialogue is happening now that simply was not possible before. Bretzke notes with interest that as traditionalist Catholics are now having to defend their disagreements with Pope Francis, progressives may justly hope for shared acknowledgment of the reality that all knowledge is, at least in part, “culturally conditioned and paradigm dependent.” But are traditionalists who find themselves at odds with the pope really coming to more readily perceive the limits of papal wisdom, and thus to scale back what some have called “creeping infallibility”? If so, what does this means for progressives who are currently having a field day quoting papal pronouncements, if not seeing all the change for which they have been waiting? Bretzke seems willing to grant that the Francis Effect is not a “progressives win” story. Rather, as we all perceive a paradigm shift, some Catholics celebrate while others worry about the future of the church. No one is completely happy, but there is space for greater humility all around.

As Bretzke clearly shows, ours is an interesting moment. The church of mercy, humility, and inclusion is just taking shape. These marks require the church to acknowledge its limits, just as each Catholic is mindful of hers or his. It is not so much that the progressive wing of the church has re-emerged with the Francis Effect or that the traditionalists still have doctrine on their side, but that mercy wins. Progressive Catholics are deeply grateful for the shift in tone, the broad understanding of the church, and the focus on gospel-inspired priorities. A small number of the most traditional Catholics are distraught. However, given the pope's sky-high approval ratings, it is clear that most traditional Catholics side with progressive Catholics in affirming many aspects of the paradigm shift.Footnote ¹¹⁴ But we all will have to live with mercy and inclusion for everyone.

Pope Francis’ closing speech at the 2014 Synod is perhaps our best indication of what a church of mercy and inclusion will look like. In it, he praised all of the bishops for their frank dialogue, told them he understood the worries of both sides, insisted that “it would have been disappointing not to have debate like this,” and encouraged them to continue the challenge of being one church. Aware that critics accuse him of destabilizing the church by inviting dialogue, he suggested that the messiness of the process he encouraged was a faithful way of being the church in the world:

Though the Francis Effect is not uniform and is only just beginning to take shape, this is a promising direction.