The World of Religions, May-June 2005 —
A thinker, mystic, and pope of exceptional charisma, Karol Wojtyla nevertheless left his successor a mixed legacy. John Paul II tore down many walls, but erected others. This long, paradoxical pontificate, marked by openness, particularly towards other religions, and by doctrinal and disciplinary closure, will undoubtedly be remembered as one of the most important chapters in the history of the Catholic Church and perhaps even in history itself. As I write these lines, the cardinals are preparing to elect John Paul II's successor. Whoever the new pope may be, he will face numerous challenges. These are the main issues for the future of Catholicism that we address in this special report. I will not revisit the analyses and numerous points raised in these pages by Régis Debray, Jean Mouttapa, Henri Tincq, François Thual, and Odon Vallet, nor the remarks of various representatives of other religions and Christian denominations. I would just like to draw attention to one aspect. One of the main challenges for Catholicism, as for any other religion, is responding to the spiritual needs of our contemporaries. These needs are currently expressed in three ways that are very much at odds with Catholic tradition, which will make the task of John Paul II's successors extremely difficult.
Indeed, since the Renaissance, we have witnessed a dual movement of individualization and globalization, which has been accelerating steadily for the past thirty years. As a consequence, in the religious sphere, individuals tend to construct their personal spirituality by drawing from the global reservoir of symbols, practices, and doctrines. A Westerner today can easily identify as Catholic, be moved by the person of Jesus, attend Mass occasionally, but also practice Zen meditation, believe in reincarnation, and read Sufi mystics. The same is true for a South American, an Asian, or an African, who has also long been drawn to a religious syncretism between Catholicism and traditional religions. This "symbolic bricolage," this practice of "religious off-trail," is becoming increasingly widespread, and it is difficult to see how the Catholic Church can impose on its faithful a strict observance of the dogma and practices to which it is so deeply attached.
Another colossal challenge is the resurgence of irrationality and magical thinking. The process of rationalization, long underway in the West and deeply permeating Christianity, is now producing a backlash: the repression of the imagination and magical thinking. Yet, as Régis Debray reminds us, the more the world becomes increasingly technological and rationalized, the more it generates, in compensation, a demand for the affective, the emotional, the imaginative, and the mythical. Hence the success of esotericism, astrology, and the paranormal, and the development of magical practices within historical religions themselves—such as the revival of saint veneration in Catholicism and Islam.
To these two trends is added a phenomenon that is overturning the traditional perspective of Catholicism: our contemporaries are far less concerned with happiness in the afterlife than with earthly happiness. The entire Christian pastoral approach is thus transformed: the focus is no longer on heaven and hell, but on the happiness of feeling saved right now because one has encountered Jesus in an emotional communion. Entire sections of the Magisterium remain out of step with this evolution, which prioritizes meaning and feeling over faithful adherence to dogma and norms. Syncretic and magical practices aimed at earthly happiness: this is precisely what characterized the paganism of Antiquity, heir to the religions of prehistory (see our dossier), against which the Church struggled so hard to establish itself. The archaic is making a strong comeback in ultramodernity. This is probably the greatest challenge that Christianity will have to face in the 21st century.