Pope softens his granite oratory, and his image

Rome, Italy - The very name - Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger - was once enough to provoke strong reactions among Roman Catholics: confidence among the more orthodox that the church stood for something firm, and fear among liberals of a harsh, closed-off faith.

But in the two months since Ratzinger became Pope Benedict XVI, he has not evoked such instantly polar emotions. Supporters and skeptics alike say Benedict is revealing himself as a man more complicated, subtle and personally warm than many had expected from his years as the Vatican's defender of the faith.

He has, to be sure, served up much meat to orthodox Catholics - precisely his appeal to many of them. He has condemned homosexuality, gay marriage and the use of condoms to prevent AIDS. He intervened in Italian politics this month to keep in place a highly restrictive law on medically assisted fertility. That pleased some Catholics but raised high enough alarm in Italy about papal interference that President Carlo Azeglio Ciampi spoke of the "necessary distinction" between church and state during a meeting with Benedict last month.

Yet many Catholics who disagree with him on those points note that his once granite oratory has softened. In the weeks before his election, he delivered lectures with contentious punches at the "dictatorship of relativism" or "filth in the church." But since then, he talks less about sin than about the love of Jesus.

While any new pope would come up short in the inevitable comparisons with to the powerfully magnetic and charismatic John Paul II, Benedict has his own low-key, unassuming appeal. His manner is gentle, even shy, his voice quiet and his reasoning clear, the focus less on him and his strong views than on the church and its teaching.

"I have been pleasantly surprised by what we have seen thus far," said the Reverend Keith Pecklers, an American Jesuit who is a professor at the Gregorian, a pontifical university in Rome. "What strikes me is that he is clearly a man of deep prayer and spirituality. He is very intelligent, a good theologian and he is very humble. He clearly does not want to call attention to himself."

Crowds still fill St. Peter's Square for papal audiences, as they did for John Paul. Some are strong supporters, some say they are waiting and seeing.

Many of the latter seem willing to extend the papal honeymoon, be it for love of the church, respect for the papacy or affection for the man. Many Catholics loved John Paul even while disagreeing with him.

"At first, I wasn't sure about this pope," said Teresa La Peruta, 59, a homemaker from Naples who, along with thousands of other Catholics, cheered Benedict recently in St. Peter's Square, even though she did not like his involvement in the fight over the fertility law. "I have to be honest: I didn't like him."

Benedict, 78, had just delivered a typically elegant Bible lesson and greetings in a score of languages. Later, a fireman's hat, lampshade large, was propped atop the papal head. A man in a wheelchair asked him to share some words with someone on his cell phone, reported later to be a terminally ill nun. The pope fumbled with the phone, but took the call with no fuss at all.

"He is beginning to win me over," La Peruta said. "I hope he does so more and more."

Longtime supporters say they are not surprised Benedict has engendered such affection. The image of the cold enforcer, they say, was always a caricature.

"I have known this man for a very long time, and what I am seeing, frankly, is the man I have always known," said George Weigel, a biographer of John Paul who is finishing a book on Benedict.

For more liberal Catholics, the honeymoon represents a victory of style over substance: Frances Kissling, president of Catholics for a Free Choice, an American group that advocates abortion rights, said Benedict had reached out to non-Catholics but not to Catholics who disagree with church teaching on abortion, contraception or the place of women in the church.

For many Vatican watchers, it is simply too early to draw strong conclusions. One early event that could be telling, many say, is the celebration of World Youth Day, an annual event started by John Paul, to be held Aug. 16 to 21 in Cologne, Ratzinger's native land.

Other opportunities to assess him will be his first encyclical - a major theological document in which he will spell out the major themes of his papacy - and how he makes key Vatican appointments.

Still, in speeches and audiences, Benedict has given many hints of his direction. A leading theologian with several books and scores of speeches over decades, he has not departed much from his long paper trail, with his concerns about relativism - the idea that all beliefs are equal - secularism and a modern world that, he believes, has left God behind.

"Italian culture is one that is intimately permeated with Christian values," he said when he visited Ciampi in June. "My hope is that the Italian people not only resist reneging on their Christian heritage, which is part of their history, but that it guards it jealously so that it brings fruits worthy of its past." He also said his papacy would focus on marriage and the sanctity of all human life.

He shows no hint of doctrinal softening. In a new book, "The Europe of Benedict: The Crisis of Cultures," which was written before he became pope and was released in Italy this month, he says secularism could lead to discrimination against the church's right to preach what it believes.

"Very soon," he wrote, "one will not be able to affirm that homosexuality, as the Catholic Church teaches, constitutes an objective disorder in the structure of human existence."

His writings have found a new and larger audience, one that appreciates their intelligence and clarity.

"I feel less alone when I read the books of Ratzinger," the Italian writer, Oriana Fallaci, told The Wall Street Journal last month. "I am an atheist, and if an atheist and a pope think the same thing, there must be some truth there."

Experts say Benedict is largely treading the same theological ground as his predecessor. His continuation of John Paul's outreach to other faiths, for example, surprised some, given the doubts that he had raised about ecumenism.