There are Real Drawbacks to Taking a Job for Life

In 1966, concerned about the wear and tear of baseball and not completely comfortable with the white hot spotlight being one of the sport’s premier players focused on him, Sandy Koufax walked away from the game. He never threw another professional pitch. That was 59 years ago. I’m assuming he is still happy with that decision.

In 2013, Paul Westerberg, singer and primary songwriter for the legendary college rock band the Replacements, reconstituted the band after a 22 year split. Two years later he once again walked away and, with the exception of a little-heard duets record with Juliana Hatfield, stopped releasing music. He had enough.

For both Koufax and Westerberg, quitting while they were ahead was a luxury they could afford and embrace, but that is not always the case.

It’s hard out there for a pope.

When Pope Francis died last week at the age of 88, the faithful were sad but not completely surprised. His health had been poor for some time, and he had required emergency hospitalization mere weeks before. Still, less than 24 hours before his death, Pope Francis was out on that familiar papal balcony, offering Easter blessings to the assembled masses. Reports were that he was feeling better but, in retrospect, perhaps not well enough.

I have to wonder what motivated Francis to resume his duties. Why, when feeling fragile, did he begin once again to meet, greet, and appear in public? The answer, I suppose, is easy.

Popes don’t quit.

There are, of course, exceptions. Most famously, Pope Benedict XVI stepped down in 2013, making way for Francis to take the post. But before that, nobody had voluntarily vacated the job since 1415. Pope-for-life is a role taken seriously.

It’s also a fairly unique, and I would guess difficult, position. There aren’t many jobs that come with the expectation that only death relieves one of their duties. Other religious figures, such as the Dalai Lama, certainly. The few remaining monarchies take that approach as well, although in exceptions-to-every-rule, King Edward VIII did abdicate the English throne in 1936. That, however, was almost 90 years ago.

Imagine taking a job – perhaps the job you have now – and being made aware that it came with the obligation to continue until death’s sweet release. I suppose there is something to be said for secure employment, but that sounds like a heavy burden to accept. Couple that with being the moral center for millions, and it becomes, quite literally, the weight of the world.

Here is the thing. When I feel sick, be it as simple as a common cold or something more serious, I get impatient and a little mean. I want to be left alone. I want to rest. I do not want to work, and I most certainly do not – cannot – serve as an example of living life in adherence to a significant moral code. It is possible (probable) that I don’t have what it takes to be Pope. I don’t have the moral fiber required. I also don’t speak Latin and am not Catholic, separate but not equal disqualifiers.

During his tenure, Pope Francis gained and maintained my deepest respect. I fell hard for his populist approach to not only faith, but also acceptance. While certainly charged with maintaining the doctrines of Catholicism, he also made it his mission to communicate strong messages of tolerance, kindness, and universal respect for his fellow man. Not every leader – religious, political, or otherwise – has the strength of spirit for that kind of mission. The fact that he maintained this approach in good health and ill, when he felt strong and when, as it turns out, he was at his very weakest, is remarkable.

He showed up.

I’ll be curious to see if the upcoming conclave produces a pope with similar spirit. There is a real difference between seeking a life of service and service for life. I would imagine, particularly when faced with a role as monumental as the papacy, that understanding the difference between the two does not occur until you are in the trenches. With that, I tip my hat for not only the next pope, but all those selected to serve for life.

I couldn’t do it.