Jerusalem
CNN
–
The Latin patriarch of Jerusalem, the Pizzabara, Cardinal Pizzabara, unmistakably identifies the dark corridor of the ancient stone patriarch in this problematic corner of the world. He moves quickly with long, intentional steps, swirling seams of his black cassocks like the swimmer’s strokes before his arrival.
He was born in Bergamo, northern Italy, but after immersed in the concerns of the herd here 35 years later, he says, “I don’t know what Italians are talking about most of the time.” His older mother still links him to the land of his birth.
One of the topics of conversation in the Vatican Hall is the Pizzabara herself. Jerusalem’s first-ever cardinal, about a decade younger than the candidate considered frontrunners, has emerged as an attractive possibility, and has plunged into the spotlight just as the same war in Gaza had to confront difficult questions about faith and humanity.
“Everyone of faith, including myself, has questions,” Pizzabara said in an interview less than two weeks after Pope Francis’ death. “You’re very annoyed by the situation and ask, ‘Where are you?” To God. Then I come to myself and understand the question, “We now, where has our humanity gone?”
“We can’t believe God will sin about what we do,” he said.
Pizzabara, who turned 60 last month, arrived in Jerusalem, a priest, in his first month. He grew up like that poverty A consideration in his choice to enter the monastery environment was that his family had one mouth to feed.
But mostly he was inspired by a local cycling priest. He brought spiritual joy and life to the world of a growing boy.
It was about gestures that if the public knew about Pizzabara before Pope Francis’ death, it was about the gestures that he thought was “obvious” to the point of little meaning.
Pizzabara, a reporter who was meant to discuss his historic appointment in response to questions on a closed call with a pool reporter in the Vatican, said, “I am ready for an exchange, if this leads freely, I can take the kids home… on my side there is total motivation.”
It was a “strange question,” he recalled, but he meant his answer very seriously. “I didn’t expect a response. It’s a great response in the world, but not in Palestine,” he told CNN. “Why not for Palestinian children, not Israeli children? My answer was… ready for them too. No problem,” he admitted that what he said in the moment on the phone with the reporter was “very naive.”
Nevertheless, the fact that, amidst the chaos and lack of leadership that characterized the period of war, other political or religious, local or global figures have not replicated his reflexive proposals is a mysterious source for him. It is also the fact that no one in a position of power responded.
“My impression at this moment is that the leadership system is somewhat paralyzed by their role,” Pizzabara said. “The lesson we see here is that faith and power don’t work. If you want to be free as a religious leader, you must be independent of all kinds of powers, economic powers, political powers, social powers, and so on. And we are not there now.”
At the outbreak of war, Pizzabara said, “It’s about trying to win the hostage release. Otherwise, there’s no way to stop the way (escalation) adding notes of attention. That’s very difficult.”
Nineteen months later, Israel expanded the war, with 59 hostages still holding Hamas, and his words look prophetic.
Pizzabara roams his own contradictions. The Franciscan monk, who dedicated his life to the concept of a universal church, moves easily between the Jewish and Muslim majority who made his life. Since 2020, as Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, he has led Catholics living in Israel, Palestinian territory, Jordan and Cyprus.
Having received his PhD from Hebrew University and spent almost the entire adult life in Jerusalem, Pizzabara, along with the Orthodox Rabbis in Israel, is able to hold herself up in theological discussions on YouTube on YouTube.
It’s easy to imagine the long-built pizza bara of the brain, the nephew of Pier Louise Pizzabara, the Roman football champion of the 1970s.
But faith is of his life. His new cardinal ship and war thrust him into the unfamiliar role of speaking for both the Israelites and Palestinians, especially the Gazas, saying, “not only is the voice of my people, but the voice of faith in my people.”
The war also mandated that Pizzabara immediately answer existential uneases about the very issues of shared humanity.
“One of the problems we have right now is that we tend to dehumanize others. We shouldn’t do this,” says Pizzabara. “The other one is (a) a human. Whoever he is, he is human. So you need to be attached to this.”
It is easy from the outside to see the era of pizzabara in Jerusalem, defined by conflict. Even before the present war, he has led the Catholic Church of Jerusalem through at least half a dozen other conflicts. But without a doubt, he says that this war was the most difficult to test his flock and his faith.
“We lost everything. We lost our trust, we lost our relationship. For many families, they lost our jobs. They lost everything. My community in Gaza, they lost their homes, they lost their future…” he said.
Pizzabara has visited Gaza twice since the war began. “The emotional impact was very strong,” he admitted.
It was his faith that carried him. Tested, challenged, sometimes even suspicious, but eventually become stronger on all the questions along the way. And this is how he defines most of the lifetimes in which he leads the church.
“Faith is the only thing you can grasp and you can continue to live in your life,” he said. And when everything else fails, “Faith is a way to transcend yourself and surpass yourself. Faith is to believe in someone else.”
During his visit to Gaza, he purchased food from the Muslim community in Jerusalem, kept it with Jewish companies, and brought it to Christians in the enclaves of the besieged coast.
“I see so many lights everywhere, in this sea of darkness, and this is what gives me hope,” he said.
The peace of the Pizzabara with himself and his credibility won him the heart of the Jerusalemians. His parishioners, primarily Palestinians, see him an affirmation of their own ancient connections with the roots of their Christian identity.
As he wore a black sedan to take him to Ben Gurion Airport, and some patriarchal employees, and came to accompany him to specifically accompany him, singing blessings in Arabic.
“Lord, if you lead his steps with wisdom, fill his heart with spirit, and be with him, if he is your prayer to lead your church,” they recited.
It was a kind send-off to say goodbye. Pizzabara, as he is, did not engage in such sentiment, ending his brief pre-deportering remarks with a request that people pray for him and a simple and lively request to “meet soon.”
