Page 60 of Sacred Hearts

“A necessary one, Holy Father.” His English carries a slight accent. “I’ve come directly from an emergency meeting of Asian cardinals in Singapore. We’ve been monitoring the situation here with concern after the declaration of the Synod.”

“Please, join our discussion,” I gesture to the growing circle of chairs.

Chen takes a seat, his expression serious but not defeated. “Your Holiness, while Europe may be resistant, the Church in Asia and Africa sees your reforms differently. Many of us believe the time has come for a more inclusive theology.”

Hope flickers within me. “You’ve discussed this with other cardinals?”

“Twenty-seven cardinals from Asia, and through Cardinal Okoye of Zimbabwe, thirty-four from Africa. We represent nearly half the College.” Chen produces a folder. “We’ve drafted our own response to support your synod. Not as a challenge to tradition, but as its natural evolution in a global Church.”

I take the document, scanning the signatures with growing amazement. These aren’t just any cardinals—they represent the fastest-growing Catholic populations on earth.

“The Global South stands with you, Holy Father,” Chen says simply. “We believe your vision serves the universal Church, not just Western concerns.”

“Tell me more about how these issues are viewed in your regions,” I ask, genuinely curious.

Chen leans forward. “In Asia, Holy Father, we’ve always existed alongside other faiths. In Japan, Korea, Vietnam—Catholics are minorities who must engage respectfully with Buddhist and Confucian traditions. This has taught us to distinguish between essential doctrine and cultural expressions of faith.”

“And regarding homosexuality?” I ask directly.

“Complex,” Chen acknowledges. “Traditional Asian cultures have their own prejudices, certainly. But our theological approach differs from the European model. In the Philippines, for example, Catholic theologians have developed a ‘theology of encounter’ that emphasizes pastoral care over condemnation.”

He opens a folder and hands me several papers. “These are theological papers from Manila, Seoul, and Bangalore addressing same-sex relationships through cultural and scriptural lenses different from the European tradition. They argue that the ‘intrinsic disorder’ language reflects medieval European categories of natural law that don’t translate well to Asian philosophical traditions.”

I scan the papers with interest. “These haven’t been published in Rome, I would have read them had they been.”

“They were submitted to theological journals here but immediately rejected as ‘not aligned with Church teaching,’” Chen says with a slight smile. “Yet they represent serious scholarship from some of our finest theologians.”

“And Africa?” I ask, knowing this region is often portrayed as uniformly conservative.

“More diverse than European cardinals claim,” Chen replies. “CardinalOkoye has compiled perspectives from across the continent. While many African bishops maintain traditional views on sexuality, their approach to pastoral care often differs significantly from European models.”

He produces another document. “This paper from theologians in South Africa and Kenya proposes a ‘theology of family inclusion’ that maintains traditional marriage while creating pastoral space for LGBTQ Catholics. They draw on African communal traditions that prioritize belonging over exclusion.”

“I’ve never seen these perspectives,” I admit.

“They’ve been systematically excluded from the conversation,” Chen says. “The European-dominated Curia has effectively silenced theological diversity while claiming to represent universal tradition.”

“And clerical celibacy?” I ask, knowing this is another contentious issue for my proposed synod.

“In Asia, we’ve faced critical priest shortages for generations,” Chen explains. “In some regions, the faithful might see a priest once a month or less. Many of our theologians have developed nuanced positions on married clergy based on practical pastoral needs, not just abstract theology.”

He hands me another paper. “This is from theologians in Indonesia and the Philippines. They examine Eastern Catholic traditions that already allow married priests and propose adaptations for other regions. They also explore indigenous models of spiritual leadership that could inform a more flexible approach to priestly ministry.”

I feel a growing sense of possibility as I review these materials. “These perspectives could transform our dialogue.”

“Exactly, Holy Father. The Church universal is not monolithic. When Cardinals Lombardi and Visconti claim to defend ‘tradition,’ they mean a specifically European tradition that represents only one expression of our faith.”

Chen’s eyes grow intense. “In Hong Kong, I’ve watched young Catholics leave the Church not because they reject Christ, but because they feel the institutional Church rejects them. Your reforms offer hope that Catholicism can be truly catholic—universal in its embrace while unified in essential faith.”

“These theological perspectives must be part of our synod,” I say decisively.

“There’s more,” Chen continues. “In many Asian countries, Catholics are a persecuted minority. We’ve learned to create networks that operate beyond official channels—secure communications, alternative media, grassroots organization. We’ve faced the same pressure tactics Cardinal Sullivan described—attempts to isolate reformers, threats of funding cuts, subtle intimidation. But our circumstances differ from Europe.”

His eyes gleam with quiet confidence. “Our churches are growing despite persecution. We’re less dependent on Vatican financial structures. These experiences have made us both resilient and resourceful—skills that could be valuable in your current situation.”

For the first time today, I feel the tightness in my chest ease slightly. “This changes the calculation significantly.”

“Precisely.” Chen nods. “And we’ve developed our own theological responses to contemporary questions, often without the luxury of Rome’s approval. Necessity has made us both pragmatic and innovative.”

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