My Brother, the Pope

by Georg Ratzinger

  IX

  Pope

  (2005 to the present)

  Like probably most Catholics, I, too, attentively followed the last days of John Paul II. I was aware that a great life was coming to an end in a completely organic way. Everyone sensed that he would not recover again from this final illness, yet it was all the more admirable how patiently and calmly he endured it. He even cheered up the people who had come to Rome, and somehow, for all his despondency about his own helplessness, he also radiated joy and confidence that he would soon be with his Heavenly Father. So it was a worthy end of a great personage, whose work was to continue from now on “over there”.

  What I admired very much were the many young people who spontaneously set out for Rome so as to manifest once more their solidarity with this great pope. It is always said that the youth want nothing to do with the Church, but this was strikingly disproved at that time. On the contrary, there are many young people, too, who are spontaneously attracted by the Church, once they have experienced that the everyday routine cannot answer their questions and cannot give any meaning to their lives, that this other thing, faith, is needed for that.

  During the next two weeks, I was repeatedly asked by people, and by journalists too, whether my brother would become pope. My answer was always the same: “No, he certainly will not!” The conclave would never elect a man at his age—he was just turning seventy-eight. It was different in the case of John XXIII, because his predecessor, Pius XII, had not held a consistory during his last five years in office and had not appointed any new cardinals. The College of Cardinals was therefore more or less aging then, so that they were forced to elect an older candidate, who at the age of seventy-six, almost seventy-seven, was nevertheless a good year younger than my brother at the time of the 2005 conclave. Now, though, the College of Cardinals was as strong as it had ever been at a conclave; there had never been so many cardinals. There were many great and talented men of all ages among them, so there was really no need to elect one of the oldest. Therefore, it was quite clear to me that a younger man would be the next pope.

  I even experienced the “Habemus Papam” live. At the time I was called by a journalist who said she had just heard that white smoke had gone up in Rome and wanted to hear from me whether I knew anything more specific. “No,” I answered truthfully, “I know nothing.” Then I turned on the television and heard it there, like everybody else.

  That was on April 19, 2005, the second day of the conclave. After the new pope had accepted his election, the paper ballots were burned at 5:40 P.M., and white smoke was supposed to rise out of the chimney of the Sistine Chapel.

  But the smoke was gray at first; there had been difficulties in lighting the fire. The faithful who had gathered on Saint Peter’s Square and the four thousand or so representatives of the world press who were in Rome were still puzzling over the color of the smoke signal when at 6:06 P.M. the bells of Saint Peter’s rang. Now everyone knew—and tens of thousands streamed onto Saint Peter’s Square.

  At 6:40 P.M. the Chilean Cardinal Jorge Medina Estévez stepped through the heavy red velvet curtains of the loggia of Saint Peter’s Basilica. First he greeted the crowd in French, Italian, and German, only to continue then with the ancient Latin formula: “Annuntio vobis gaudium magnum: habemus Papam!” (I bring you good news of a great joy: we have a Pope!) There was great jubilation before the Chilean went on and gave the first name of the one who had been elected: “Eminentissimum ac Reverendissimum Dominum, Dominum Josephum.” Here he paused so as to heighten the suspense. . . .

  When the name “Josephum”, Joseph, was mentioned, I froze deep inside. I knew it was getting dangerous now, and I was in suspense as to how things would continue.

  Then the rest of the announcement followed: “Sanctae Romanae Ecclesiae Cardinalem Ratzinger”.

  Then in fact the name Ratzinger was mentioned! I must quite honestly say that at that moment I was rather disheartened. It was a great challenge, an enormous task for him, I thought, and I was seriously worried. I saw neither the pomp nor the beauty of it, but only the challenge of this office, which now demanded everything of him, and the burden it meant for him. And I was sad that now he would probably have no more time for me. So that evening I went to bed rather depressed. Throughout that evening and then again well into the following afternoon the telephone rang nonstop, yet now it did not matter to me at all. I simply did not answer. “Nuts to you”, I thought to myself!

  I did not call him, either. I told myself I would not reach him now anyway, so many people were around him at the moment who all wanted something from him. He called then the next morning, or rather: he tried to call me, but because the telephone in my house was ringing constantly and getting on my nerves, I did not answer it. “Keep on ringing, you can ring without me, too”, I thought, while it may have been my brother calling! At some point, Frau Heindl, my housekeeper, answered the telephone, and so he had her on the line first and not me.

  She was naturally somewhat shocked that this stubborn caller was none other than the Pope. If I remember correctly, she was not even able to connect me with him, for some reason. At any rate, it was some time before we were finally able to speak with each other. Now, thank God, I have a second telephone upstairs in the living room. An acquaintance arranged this for me when he learned that I got calls from so many people that I sometimes did not answer when it was my brother on the line. He alone knows the number for this second line. When this telephone rings, then I know that my brother, the Pope, is calling me. But at that time, of course, I did not yet have it.

  On the telephone, he already seemed quite calm again. At the moment of his election, however, he told me, it had struck him like a bolt of lightning. It was so unforeseeable, it came so suddenly in the voting, that the working of the Holy Spirit was obvious. He then surrendered quickly to him, because he, too, recognized God’s will in it.

  Now that Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger had been elected the 265th successor of Saint Peter, Jesus prophecy, which was actually about the martyrdom of the Prince of the Apostles in Rome, sounded as though it was also intended for him: “When you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will fasten your belt for you and carry you where you do not wish to go” (Jn 21:18).

  For again, as always in his life, it was someone else who led him where he really did not want to go. When Benedict XVI celebrated his first Mass as pope on the morning of April 20, 2005, he remembered his beloved predecessor once again. After the cardinals had elected him, he said, “I seemed to see his smiling eyes and hear his words, at this moment addressed specifically to me, ‘Do not be afraid.’ ” A strong hand was clasping his and was now driving him on to complete what John Paul II began: a Church that, according to Christ’s teaching and example, “looks serenely at the past and is not afraid of the future”.

  Five days later, in his address to the German pilgrims who had come to his installation, he became even clearer—and chose a telling metaphor: “When, little by little, the trend of the voting led me to understand that, to say it simply, the axe was going to fall on me, my head began to spin. I was convinced that I had already carried out my life’s work and could look forward to ending my days peacefully. With profound conviction I said to the Lord: Do not do this to me! You have younger and better people at your disposal, who can face this great responsibility with greater dynamism and greater strength.

  “I was then very touched by a brief note written to me by a brother Cardinal. He reminded me that on the occasion of the Mass for John Paul II, I had based my homily, starting from the Gospel, on the Lord’s words to Peter by the Lake of Gennesaret: ‘Follow me!’ I spoke of how again and again, Karol Wojtyla received this call from the Lord, and how each time he had to renounce much and to simply say: Yes, I will follow you, even if you lead me where I never wanted to go. This brother Cardinal wrote to me: Were the Lord to say to you now, ‘Follow me’, then remember what you preached. Do not refuse! Be obedient in the same way that
you described the great Pope, who has returned to the house of the Father. This deeply moved me. The ways of the Lord are not easy, but we were not created for an easy life, but for great things, for goodness.”

  Shortly afterward, Bishop Muller (Bishop Gerhard Ludwig Müller of the Regensburg Diocese) called and invited me to travel with him to my brother’s installation, and of course I gladly accepted. So I had the privilege of driving with His Excellency to the airport and flew with him to Rome as part of the delegation from Regensburg.

  In Rome, then, I lived first in the old cardinal’s apartment belonging to my brother, since he was still staying together with the other cardinals in the Vatican guest house, the “Domus Sanctae Marthae” (Saint Martha’s House)—for security reasons; he had to be guarded, after all. The apartment was directly opposite the Apostolic Palace, but outside the Vatican City State, on the Piazza Città Leonina. The next morning I picked him up, and then we drove together to his apartment. A gigantic crowd of people had gathered in front of it, and they applauded immediately; he greeted them briefly, and then we went in.

  Georg Ratzinger at his brother’s installation on April 24, 2005

  Has he changed? Was he still the same old Joseph, or could one sense the working of the Holy Spirit, this new charism that many people claim to have noticed in him?

  Of course, he was still the same old Joseph, and he still is today. The working of the Holy Spirit is limited to his official activity, but as a human being he has not changed. He does not stand on ceremony, does not try to be pretentious. He presents himself as who he is and does not want to slip into a role or wear a mask, as others may do. When Peter Seewald, for instance, describes him as a “charismatic pope” with a great influence on the world, then I must say he quite certainly does not exercise that influence consciously. Perhaps it is, after all, the influence of the Holy Spirit that lends him a certain charisma at his public appearances. Otherwise, he is now as before the kindly, friendly, and modest man he always was, quite unaffected and cordial.

  Has he confided in you why he chose the papal name Benedict? Was it his reverence for Saint Benedict of Nursia (480-547), founder of the great religious order and father of Western monasticism, or was his namesake the intellectual Pope Benedict XIV (1740-1758), or the pope of peace, Benedict XV (1914-1922)?

  I myself do not know. But we did once talk about papal names, and he simply said that Benedict was a nice name. That was in a very general conversation that was not at all related to him personally; he felt this name was nice and suitable for a pope, in terms of its sound as well as its meaning: “the Blessed one” (from Latin benedicere = to bless) who is also a blessing for others. Naturally, he holds Saint Benedict in very, very high esteem. Of course he knows that the other two were great popes, but he never actually spoke about them. Therefore I would rather say that Saint Benedict of Nursia was the namesake but that there were also aesthetic and etymological reasons that led to his choice of this name.

  Since then a special apartment has been set up for the Pope’s brother in the guest wing of the Apostolic Palace. In the summer, however, he lives with his brother in the papal summer residence in Castel Gandolfo.

  During my next visit in the summer of 2005, I think I gave him a good scare. It was on August 3 around noon, and I was just listening to a CD with a fugue from the Hammerklavier Sonata by Beethoven, when suddenly everything around me started spinning. For a short space of time I was out of it but, soon afterward, fully conscious again. When this happened again during the evening meal, my brother and the whole dinner party were very upset. He asked his personal physician, Doctor Renato Buzzonetti, to examine me, and the latter had me admitted right away to the Gemelli Clinic in Rome, where they implanted a pacemaker in me. As I was staying there, they told me: “The Pope is coming to visit you!” Among the employees of the hospital, the nurses and the doctors, it was as though a bomb had hit. Some said that now they themselves needed coronary treatment! He took the helicopter to travel from Castel Gandolfo to Rome simply because the Roman officials prefer it. If he were to travel by automobile, it would disrupt the local traffic on account of the security measures. I was very happy about his visit, but of course a pope never comes alone. The Prefect, Archbishop Harvey, and his secretary, Doctor Gänswein, were there, too, a whole platoon that turned the hospital visit into a major event. At any rate, we were able to spend a good quarter hour alone before the television cameras arrived, too.

  Then in October 2005, the Regensburg Domspatzen visited Rome. They were so happy to have the privilege of giving a concert in the Sistine Chapel (on October 22), for there is probably no more magnificent or inspiring setting; moreover, it has magnificent acoustics. The enormous excitement was palpable, and everyone gave his very best. The Holy Father was certainly very happy about this visit from his homeland.

  One year later, in September 2006, Benedict XVI returned, perhaps for the last time, to his Bavarian homeland. Whereas usually he never goes along on a papal journey, this time Georg Ratzinger could not pass up the opportunity to accompany him to one of the most important places of their childhood.

  When my brother came to Altötting, naturally I traveled there from Regensburg. I stayed overnight with the Capuchins and ate with them. Before the papal Mass, I met Professor Franz Mussner (b. 1916), who taught New Testament exegesis in Regensburg and today lives in Passau, his native city, as a cathedral canon. At that time, he had just celebrated his ninetieth birthday, and when he saw me, he said we two were the only ones who had permission to carry a cane; all the other attendees were forbidden to have one for security reasons. A very festive, beautiful liturgy followed, which visibly moved people. Then during the meal afterward, crispy roast pork and dumplings, I finally sat at a table again with my brother. Instead of taking a siesta afterward, we took a little walk through the convent garden and “chatted”. My brother was so happy he could finally be in his homeland again.

  August 5, 2005: The Pope visits his brother, Georg, in the Gemelli Clinic

  At that time he presented to Our Lady of Altötting his bishop’s ring, which Maria and I had given him when he was consecrated a bishop. I had kept it for all those years, until Sister Birgit, a Schönstatt nun who serves as a secretary to my brother, suggested to him that he give this ring to Our Lady of Altötting. Then she asked me what I thought of the idea. “I certainly approve,” I replied, “for if someday I pass on, then it would be lying around somewhere, but there it is in a safe place: the Mother of God can look after it best.” I was very happy about this suggestion and wholeheartedly approved of it. So I brought the ring to my brother in Altötting, and he laid it down there in the Chapel of Graces.

  Next on the itinerary after Altötting was Marktl, where we visited Saint Oswald’s, the church where he was baptized. In quiet prayer, we lingered there in front of the baptismal font over which he had been accepted into the communion of Holy Mother Church seventy-nine years before. After that, he took me with him in the helicopter to Regensburg; I sat opposite him, face-to-face, the whole time.

  The welcome in Regensburg was overwhelming. I spent the night in the major seminary beside my brother’s apartment, for the next morning we wanted to celebrate early Mass together. From there we set out for the great papal Mass on Islinger Feld. On the program that afternoon were his address in the aula magna of the university and an ecumenical evening prayer service. And then finally came September 13, to which we had looked forward for so long. Already when the program for his trip to Germany was being planned, my brother asked for a day he could use for private meetings. On that day, he was with me practically the whole time. There was only one official item on the program at 11:00 in the morning: the consecration of the new organ in the “Old Chapel”, of which I had grown so fond that this, too, was actually a private event. Originally he was supposed to travel directly from the major seminary, where he was staying overnight, to the “Old Chapel” on Schwarze-Bären-Straße, but he wanted to drop off something at my h
ouse first. So we went there via Luzengasse, which runs by my house. At the time, we thought we would use the nearest entrance to the church, but the chapter of the “Old Chapel” was waiting for us on the north side, and so we entered by the north side, were solemnly greeted there, and arrived punctually for the great consecration of the organ. After that, we returned to my house. Along the way, we met the leader of the Jewish community, Herr Hans Rosengold (who has unfortunately died since), whom my brother thanked for his hospitality—he had invited the whole papal entourage to dinner.

  Upstairs on the terrace of my house, we drank an aperitif and then ate our midday meal on the ground floor. The Bishop was there and also a small group including his secretary, Monsignor Ganswein. Frau Heindl, my housekeeper, had prepared a delicious meal for us, which in fact almost did not arrive at our table. You see, she lives right across the street on Königsstraße and had cooked there for us in advance because she thought that that was the simplest solution: then she would just have to bring the food over quickly, as she often did. But on that day, our street was blocked off, and the police did not want to let her through. Then dear Frau Heindl became rather indignant: “There’s no bomb in the pot, but soup for the Holy Father! And if you don’t let me through, then he gets nothing to eat!” she said very energetically. Then the policemen themselves were disconcerted and did not know at first whether they should believe her. So they did not leave her side but came into the house with her as far as the kitchen, where they then saw that what she said was true, that she was practically at home here and was supposed to prepare the midday meal. Eventually there was breznsuppe (pretzel soup), roast beef smothered in onions, spatzle, and finally a pineapple custard; everything tasted wonderful.