The Pastoral Pope

No one presumes to teach an art till he has first, with intent meditation, learned it. What rashness is it, then, for the unskillful to assume pastoral authority, since the government of souls is the art of arts!

Unlike our three other friends, Gregory did not have the opportunity to interact with his fellow Doctors. Born around AD 540, he already had five centuries of Christian history before him. Even so, his story is not so unlike that of those who preceded him.

Raised in an Italian family of means and prominence, Gregory received the benefits of comfort, stability, education, and opportunity. Like Ambrose, he pursued a career in politics, and by 573 he had achieved the position of prefect of Rome. When his father died, however, Gregory chose to sell his property and take up the life of a Benedictine monk, converting six family estates into monasteries.

Gregory soon found favor in the eyes of several popes as Benedict I ordained him as a deacon of Rome and later Pelagius II commissioned him as an ambassador to Constantinople. Tired of such public endeavors, he returned to his Roman monastic life in 586, although he was promptly elected abbot and called upon as an adviser to Pelagius until the Pope’s death four years later.

In keeping with the style of Ambrose and Augustine, Gregory found himself the elected successor to the papacy against his will. But the voice of the clergy and the people of Rome won out, and on September 3, 590, he was consecrated Pope Gregory.

By this point, Rome was far from its glory days, and the city itself had fallen into disrepair after floods, famine, and epidemics wrought their havoc. Gregory therefore took responsibility for more than the city’s religious state, and among other tasks, he repaired the aqueducts, replenished the grain supply, and fed the poor. With the once mighty Empire now in ruins, the papacy took steps to regain control of the situation and here achieved power and prestige beyond that which it had formerly experienced.

But Gregory influenced more than the humanitarian needs of his own city. In the course of his fourteen-year pontificate, he made peace with the ­­­­warring Lombards, sent missionaries to England, and promoted the advancement of Benedictine monasticism. Still, his rule was not free from flaws. An avid proponent of Augustine’s teachings, Gregory twisted his speculations into certain truth (compare this, perhaps, to a modern-day teacher or pastor advocating the thoughts of C.S. Lewis as unarguable certainties). Among these speculation-truths are counted the doctrines of purgatory and transubstantiation--doctrines that persisted and morphed in the following centuries until coming to a crisis during the Reformation.

Beyond the actions and accomplishments of his life, what more has Pope Gregory I (or, Gregory “the Great”) left us?

Words. Many, many words.

Although his writings are by no means speculative or original, Gregory does provide us with works that are “clear and powerful propounders of the practical orthodox tradition.” His letters, commentaries, sermons, and books reflect on the moral and practical side of church doctrine and theology more than on scholarly pursuits.

Out of his many works, let’s take a quick look at one book he wrote early in his papal career: Regula Pastoralis, or The Pastoral Rule. Composed as a set of instructions for bishops, it advises that those who would pursue clerical office ought to “let fear temper the desire,” but when one is selected, he ought to “let his life commend it” and practice what he preaches. The volume goes on to address the virtues necessary for a good pastor, the methods of ministering to a diverse congregation, and a reminder that pastors be aware of their own weaknesses. Such detailed instructions confirm Gregory’s belief that “the government of souls is the art of arts,” and that Christian leadership is never to be taken lightly, for the flock and the little ones are of great value.

 

Let me once more conclude by asking, “What makes Gregory ‘Great’ today?”

1)     Gregory’s Pastoral Rule gives modern readers a chance to put things in perspective and realize that we have more in common with our Christian forerunners than we might think. The temptation towards seeking the prestige of office has in no way diminished since his pontificate one thousand years ago, and human nature has not risen above the “hidden delight in self-display.” We often like to think we’ve risen above the sins of the past, yet here we see the struggle of leadership throughout the ages.

2)     On a similar note, Gregory was acutely aware of his own flaws. “I direct others to the shore of perfection,” he writes, “while myself still tossed among the waves of transgressions.” Here again we find a man who did not consider himself saintly or great but who affirmed his identity as a sinner saved by grace. He writes, therefore, not out of a spirit of superiority but out of empathy and experience. Such humility is admirable, especially in light of the position he held, a position, no less, whose power and authority was greatly elevated by his rule. Regardless of your rank, are you able to recognize your own short-comings, or would you rather dwell solely upon your successes and accomplishments? Human nature prefers the latter, but might not true humility and “greatness” lie most fully in the former?

I direct others to the shore of perfection, while myself still tossed among the waves of transgressions. But in the shipwreck of this present life sustain me, I beseech you, by the plank of your prayer, that, since my own weight sinks me down, the hand of your merit may raise me up.