Review: New book challenges the ‘villainous’ image of the Vatican Curia
Omnia rapiens, nihil dans. “Taking everything, giving nothing.” I heard this definition of the Roman Curia from a prominent archbishop many years ago. It illustrates the villainous image of the Curia in the minds of many. Pope Francis has perhaps unintentionally reinforced that negative image with his early Christmas messages to the Curia, criticizing pretensions and urging conversion.
From the perspective of my own service of eight years in the Curia (at the Secretariat of State from 1971 to 1973 and the Congregation—now Dicastery—for Bishops from 1973 to 1979), I can say that, although I did see some villainy, I also saw the greater good that the Curia does in service to the pope and the church. Officials of the Roman Curia are fallible human beings, but they do love the church.
Seven of my eight years were during the pontificate of St. Paul VI, truly a servant of the church. Many times in addressing controversies, he would send the directive: “Consult the president of the bishops’ conference.” My final year was the first year of the pontificate of St. John Paul II. His election was a shock to the Curia. After several months, one high-ranking prelate said to me, “Maybe a non-Italian is not so bad.”
The Curia is a mystery, but it need not be a shadowy mystery. Recently written by Monsignor Anthony Ekpo, undersecretary of the Dicastery for Promoting Integral Human Development, The Roman Curia: History, Theology and Organization contributes greatly to our understanding of the structures and organization of the Curia.
At the very beginning, the author distinguishes the Curia from Vatican City-State, which is a sovereign entity with its own governance and administration. He then also distinguishes the Curia from the Holy See, which is the papacy itself, internationally recognized as a spiritual and moral entity and which is served by the Curia.
Ekpo demonstrates that the Curia is a necessary institution. The bishops of Rome from the earliest years of the church have had to rely on collaborators. Over the centuries, this collaboration became more and more structured and formalized, coalescing ultimately in the 16th century into the organizational mold that we recognize today as the Curia. But, as Ekpo shows, subsequent centuries saw constant changes through the formation, merging, new nomenclature or dissolution of offices. The 20th century saw reforms enacted by Pope St. Paul VI and Pope St. John Paul II, and most recently by Pope Francis—with his apostolic constitution “Praedicate Evangelium” (literally, “Preach the Gospel”) of March 19, 2022.
Ekpo’s narrative of the history of the Curia easily leads to the conclusion that “Praedicate Evangelium” will not be its last reform. This is further enforced by the theology of the Curia, which is centered on the principles of communion and mission. If the church is a communion with God and within herself, she must engage in mission in order to bring more of humanity into that communion with God and among all peoples.
The Curia has to reflect that twofold nature of the church. It is itself a communion within the church whose mission is to serve the pope and the bishops in the building of universal communion and the engagement of the entire people of God. Since many of the ways of fostering communion and mission have changed over the centuries, so too will the style and offices of the Roman Curia. Just as ecclesia semperreformanda, so too Curia semper reformanda.
Ekpo’s book is a competent and thorough examination of the currently reformed structures of the Curia in service to the pope and the bishops, and in service to communion and mission. He details the origins of the dicasteries, their internal ordering and their responsibilities. But he does not enter into the dynamics of the operations of the Curia that reveal its inevitable humanity. For that the reader can still turn to the invaluable 1998 work of Thomas Reese, S.J., Inside the Vatican: The Politics and Organization of the Catholic Church. This book is not mentioned in Ekpo’s bibliography.
When I am asked what I learned from my experience in the Curia, I offer two lessons. The first is the importance of local churches; the second is the importance of networking. Both also reveal the humanity of the Curia’s bureaucrats.
There is a dynamic reciprocity between the Curia and local churches. I read countless reports on the activities of local churches and almost always came away with immense appreciation for so much creativity and energy in building communion and mission. I tried to convey through memos to superiors and in the preparation of drafts for responses some of that creativity and energy.
The Curia could learn from that creativity, but two problems have often presented themselves in the past. The first was that sometimes local innovation was pushing the envelope and needed some caution. The second problem was that a curial official could not accept this creativity or innovation into his own understanding, and so opposed it. That led to some debate within a particular dicastery or among dicasteries. It could also lead to bishops getting letters unfairly criticizing some aspect of their governance.
At times during my tenure, I couldn’t help but think that some officials were employed on the basis of what Bernard Lonergan once called the “principle of the empty head”—the less a person knew about something, the more objective he or she could be in judging it.
I have the impression that there is much less of that now, and that the Curia is much more accepting of diversity in pastoral action. Again, one of the significant innovations of “Praedicate Evangelium” is that the Curia must see itself as at the service of the pope and the bishops. It is not to see itself as second-guessing bishops. And as synodality is actualized more and more on every level of the church, that will include the Curia; this can only lead to a better relationship with local bishops.
“Praedicate Evangelium” also encourages the recruitment of more lay men and women. This is a dynamic that will bring more diverse energies and perspectives into the workings of the Curia. It is impossible to predict how this will change the culture of the Curia and impact the larger church, but it is a welcome phenomenon.
A second lesson that I learned, and that demonstrates the humanity of curial structures, was the importance of networking. This is true, I suspect, of most organizations. Beneath the formal communications to resolve issues, get information and formulate policies, there is the informal network of relationships that might be friendships, casual acquaintances, or referrals and recommendations.
An illustration: I was once in a line at the Rome airport to check in my luggage to go home for Christmas when there was a tap on my shoulder. It was a papal nuncio who had just flown in and knew from a mutual friend that I was departing that morning. He was very concerned about an issue that had developed and was looking for a way to resolve it. I made some suggestions and a few months later the issue was resolved favorably.
Networking takes time. As Ekpo points out, “Praedicate Evangelium” says that officials should serve for a period of only five years. This is advantageous insofar as candidates might be more willing to serve for a defined term, and it allows for change in case an official turns out to be not very competent or has become too assertive in allowing his biases to influence his work. But it is also disadvantageous because it takes time to establish a network, especially if the candidate has no previous experience of Rome or does not know Italian.
“Praedicate Evangelium” allows for exceptions to the five-year rule, but that also creates the problem of those staying longer being able to accumulate more power. This is especially true of the Secretariat of State, some of whose officials are a part of the diplomatic service of the Holy See and so are permanent and more influential.
Ekpo, following “Praedicate Evangelium,” recognizes service in the Curia as precisely that: service. It was my experience that many of my colleagues throughout the Curia saw themselves as serving the pope and the church in the anonymity of a bureaucracy, with selflessness and perseverance even within the stark conditions of our offices and the length of time required to bring projects to conclusion. As “Praedicate Evangelium” urges, most were engaged in pastoral activity outside of the Curia.
But service in the Curia inevitably means power, especially for those who have more influence in decisions. Even when officials did not have that much power, the mere fact of working in the Curia created an aura of power that gave them more power. The routines of bureaucracy were often disrupted as officials within a dicastery or among dicasteries fought to get their points of view across to one another but most especially to their superiors. Win some, lose some!
Pope Francis insists in “Praedicate Evangelium” that the reform of the Curia hinges on the renewal of hearts. Dedication to service demands a spirituality of service. I have the impression now that there is a greater sense of humble service, welcome and listening on the part of curial officials. But power and ambition abhor a vacuum. And that is why the reform of the Curia will never end.