An act of humility that befits a pope

Reactions to the announcement that Pope Benedict is to step down at the end of the month have been strong. Some have been unexpected. No matter how difficult his time as pope has been, due to the scandals that have seriously undermined the stability of the Catholic Church, the reactions are revealing from another perspective.

Above all, the pope's decision revealed something that nobody has ever been brave enough to admit: Italy's indifference to the evolution of the Catholic Church. Once reverential, public opinion today appears more interested in the derisive comments posted by the younger generation on Facebook, Twitter and other social networks, than in the inner life of the Vatican.

And that's without mentioning the disrespectful comments that followed the recent attempt by the pope to reconnect the church to the modern world by opening a Twitter account (which is now closed).

The legacy Benedict inherited from his predecessor, John Paul II, was certainly a difficult one. Benedict spent the whole eight years of his papacy on the defensive, trying to protect the church and himself from scandals, modernity and secularisation; something that probably consumed his mental and physical energies much more that external observers could have imagined.

The last time I heard the pope speak, earlier this month, I got the sense of a person whose mind was absorbed by deep and difficult thoughts. A strange atmosphere pervaded the Vatican during a concert organised by the Italian Embassy to the Holy See to celebrate the 84th anniversary of the Lateran Accords, which gave the Vatican sovereignty over its modern-day territory, and to honour Italian President Giorgio Napolitano as he concludes his seven-year term of office.

Napolitano's opening message, about his term as president, was deeply moving. Yet the pope's concluding remarks appeared oddly detached, focusing on the technicalities of Beethoven's Third Symphony, while lacking personal inspiration and spiritual afflatus.