As a Protestant, I’m prepared to admit that when it comes to the silver screen, the Roman Catholic Church has us beat by a country mile. Whether in classic films like The Agony and the Ecstasy or modern ones like Angels and Demons and The Two Popes, Roman Catholicism and the Vatican especially have been a treasure trove for film directors. They have Protestants beat on aesthetics — it’s hard to top Michelangelo, Bernini, Raphael, and those bright red vestments — and they have us beat on intrigue. No Protestant leader will ever have the influence of the single pope who presides over Roman Catholicism, and the secret proceedings in which a group of men select a new pontiff have all the makings of high drama. There is nothing comparable in Protestantism or Eastern Orthodoxy.
Thus, it is to the Vatican in general and the papal conclave in particular that filmmakers have often gone in search of a hit. The latest to do so is Edward Berger, director of the new film Conclave, based on a Robert Harris novel of the same name. Berger is previously best known for helming the German-language adaptation of All Quiet on the Western Front, an award-winning hit for Netflix a few years ago. That he chose as his next project an adaptation of a thriller novel set in the Vatican surprised me. After all, it is not exactly groundbreaking subject matter.
When I saw the trailer for Conclave, my initial thought was, “Here we go again. Another film about the Catholic Church trying to reconcile an ancient institution with the modern world.” I was not sure what would make it more special than Angels and Demons (an admittedly wacky Dan Brown conspiracy tale) or The Two Popes (an excellent look at the relationship between the late Pope Benedict XVI and Pope Francis). But I was admittedly very interested when I saw who was in the cast: Ralph Fiennes, Stanley Tucci, John Lithgow, and Isabella Rossellini. All these actors are known for giving exceptional performances, and I couldn’t believe they would be drawn to a run-of-the-mill thriller. So, I held out hope that Conclave might present something novel after all.
Having now seen the film, I can assure you that if you are looking for a meditation upon Jesus, Mary, and all the saints, you won’t find it here. They are lucky just to get a name drop. This is a straightforward whodunit, only in this case we must ask, “Who didn’t do it?” By “it” I mean anything nefarious that could tarnish the reputation of a high-ranking church member.
I need not provide spoilers, for it is immediately clear from the tone of the film that it will be a true miracle of the Holy Spirit if anyone emerges with clean hands and a pure heart. God help the Roman Catholic Church if these are the best candidates it has on offer, but of course we cannot know for certain how well the intriguing and politicking of Conclave matches the real thing. Though humans are human and things get leaked to the press, a certain degree of secrecy has been maintained in recent years. These are not the olden days when members of warring Italian families would openly attempt to out muscle each other for the chair of St. Peter.
Some Catholic commentators have complained that Conclave is pushing a progressive agenda, but that was less clear to me. From the beginning, we see that some cardinals belong to the church’s liberal wing and some to the conservative one, but the liberals have as many character flaws as the conservatives. There is no serious discussion of doctrine, unless it involves sexuality or immigration. This is essentially a political thriller in fancy dress, with the factions dividing over issues that are most controversial in the secular sphere.
There are various panicked comments that a certain papal candidate will roll back “sixty years” of reforms, but the name Vatican II is not uttered, for that might necessitate an explanation that rulings of an ecumenical council cannot be easily dismissed with a papal swipe of a hand. No, this is a film about the Roman Catholic Church for people who know little about the Roman Catholic Church, and to create maximum drama, the stakes must be set as high as possible.
If there is anything approximating a theological theme that runs through Conclave — an attempt at an overarching message that the audience should absorb — it comes in a speech given by Ralph Fiennes’ character, Cardinal Lawrence, in the first third of the film.
Over the course of many years in the service of our mother the Church, let me tell you, there is one sin I have come to fear above all others: certainty. Certainty is the great enemy of unity. Certainty is the deadly enemy of tolerance. Even Christ was not certain at the end. “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” he cried out in his agony at the ninth hour on the cross. Our faith is a living thing precisely because it walks hand in hand with doubt. If there was only certainty and no doubt, there would be no mystery, and therefore no need for faith. Let us pray that God will grant us a pope who doubts.[1]
It is tempting to immediately interpret this as a classic example of moral relativism, liberal theology, and the like. A woke cardinal for a woke age! But whether the filmmakers intended that or not, the issue is more complicated.
On the thirteenth of December this year, my social media feed reminded me that it was the anniversary of the opening of the Council of Trent, another ecumenical council (if it can be so titled after the schism with the Eastern churches) that sought to respond to the Protestant Reformation. Beginning in 1545 and ending in 1563, the council addressed a wide range of issues, but it is probably most famous for issuing a series of decrees against what it considered to be heretical teachings about justification.
“No one can know with a certainty of faith, which cannot be subject to error, that he has obtained the grace of God.”[2] So wrote the participants of the Council of Trent. When they did so, they made clear that there is a particular kind of certainty that cannot exist in Roman Catholicism: namely, certainty over whether one is in a state of grace and assured of eternal life. The Roman Catholic Church still holds that this type of certainty is exceptionally dangerous unless granted in a special revelation from God, for it might cause a person not to pursue those works of righteousness and that heart of unsullied love which are necessary for final justification before God.
Furthermore, Rome has also held that an individual Christian cannot be too certain of doctrinal matters on their own. To simply open one’s Bible and reach dogmatic conclusions apart from the centuries of theological riches the Church has to offer is unthinkable for Roman Catholics. Certainty on doctrinal matters can only be reached through the oversight of the Church’s Magisterium, particularly as it issues decrees in ecumenical councils and certain official statements of the pope.
Cardinal Lawrence’s speech in Conclave could therefore be interpreted as a simple expression of orthodox Roman Catholic teaching. The Church is a guardian of mysteries. It cannot exist where there is absolute certainty. Yet, it is interesting that Lawrence seems to place certainty and faith in opposition to one another, while the Council of Trent used the rather strange phrase “the certainty of faith.” We often think of faith grasping what certainty cannot, but there is also a sort of certainty that faith itself grants: a certainty beyond that of human reason and material evidence.
Moreover, despite lauding doubt, Lawrence spends most of the film pursuing certainty. As Dean of the College of Cardinals, he sees it as his duty to perform extensive background checks on cardinals who are leading the conclave’s vote tally. (Whether it is actually his duty is one of the philosophical questions the film doesn’t thoroughly address.) The official Roman Catholic position is that the Holy Spirit leads the cardinals to select whomever God intends to be his Vicar on earth, but despite giving minimal lip service to the third person of the Trinity, Lawrence and the other cardinals are keen to do God’s work for him, plumbing the depths of their colleagues’ hearts to be certain that no scandals will break post-election. What they discover is that the pursuit of certainty via human reason often leads only to greater uncertainty.
Even as Lawrence cannot help but long for certainty, human beings long to be certain about the most important things in their lives. For Martin Luther and other Protestant Reformers, the one thing a human being must be certain of above all others is whether he or she has obtained the grace of God, which is to say the favor of God accompanying justification, union with Christ, and the life eternal. The Roman Catholic Church said it was dangerous and even sinful to presume upon such knowledge, while Luther believed it was the very essence of the Christian life.
The Roman Catholic Church relied on uncertainty then to maintain its unity under the authority of its Magisterium and the dogmatic decrees it issued. This was the position of Desiderius Erasmus, the opponent of Martin Luther who also sought reform in the Church but was unwilling to break with the Magisterium. Erasmus realized that to do so — to say that individuals could be certain of things on their own — would destroy a hard-won unity that was holding together European society. But Luther believed there are some uncertainties which wreak havoc upon one’s eternal soul, and that men in cardinals’ hats are no freer from errors of judgment than those in plain clothes. On that latter point, Conclave would seem to agree.
All of us demand certainty in some areas and are happy to tolerate mystery in others. For myself, I can think of no certainty I require as much as this: that God loves me, calls me his own, and will preserve me in faith until the end. I seek the resurrection of the dead and the life eternal. Only faith can grant me certainty in such matters, yet it is a certainty more precious than any I gain by human reason. Let my faith walk hand in hand with doubt so long as I walk hand in hand with Christ, for to be held by him is the greatest certainty of all.
[1] Conclave. Produced by Alice Dawson et al, directed by Edward Berger, written by Peter Straughan. Focus Features. 2024.
[2] Dogmatic canons and decrees : authorized translations of the dogmatic decrees of the Council of Trent, the decree on the Immaculate Conception, the Syllabus of Pope Pius IX, and the decrees of the Vatican Council (New York: Devin-Adair Company, 1912), 34.
Thanks for this reflection on the film and your response! A friend of mine asked me to see it so we could discuss it, and as I left the theater (it’s now available on Peacock) I had already decided that I needed to read the novel itself to get some of the ‘self-talk’ that movies don’t provide. In the book, Cardinal Lomelli (the Cardinal Lawrence/Ralph Fiennes character in the movie) has a prayer life, works at discerning God’s will, makes mistakes and asks forgiveness, asks counsel from others, and faithfully does what he thinks is right. I’ve been listening to it as an audiobook, and it has me thinking about my own experiences in relationship with God and leadership. You might want to explore the book, too!
I paused at the Meditation on certainty in the film and then came back here to see if anyone else had found it to be profound. I particularly related it to our current political scene with all the preaching and judgment coming from both Right and Left. As a lifelong Democrat, it has been disheartening for me to be constantly preached at by my own Left-Leaning brethren In an insufferable way. All the woke-isms. All the eye rolls at any mention of Faith. As a Catholic I appreciate that at least in my circle no one proclaims to be “right”, unlike the evangelical churches I was raised in. I can kind of shrug off the obnoxious proclamations within the various religions, but I can’t seem to get past the self righteousness and myopic certainty among my liberal friends.
Indeed, Lawrence’s personal meditation which shifted away from the expected, to the unexpected, stands out primarily because it is the only truly deep inner dilemma of the characters have that is shared with the audience . The complexity of the various people is alluded to by the performances, but not substantially explored. One of my favourite film critics, argued the script compared badly with bangers like “A Man for All Seasons”, “Becket”, and “The Shoes of The Fisherman”. Well, yes, but I still came away from Conclave with that gold nugget delivered by Ralph Fiennes, and I myself turned to the book, to explore the inner talk, that scriptwriters often eschew. Despite all it’s flaws, I love Conclave, even though it only provided directions, and couldn’t take me on the journey itself of the theological and human dimensions of its themes. For that alone, I am grateful.
Deeply silly film that substitutes clichés for thought. But your piece has really brought out a lot of the ways that a superior film could have tackled the trickiness of mystery and faith, which I appreciate.
That homily really is a doozy though. “The sin of certainty,” he says, and follows that thought up with assertion after assertion! He even takes the iffy position that Christ was having the same sort of fundamental doubts when he was quoting a Psalm that resolves that doubt into faith. Perhaps this reading is correct*! But Cardinal Lawrence doesn’t give us “perhaps.” He gives us commands disguised as suggestions.
(*In my opinion, Christ’s reluctance in the context of willing obedience to the cross simply can’t be cast as the same sort of sacrifice-less navel-gazing doubt that the cardinal promotes.)
Amen to the navel gazing reflection.