From his first buona sera to his occasional mother-in-law jokes, to his use of symbolic imagery and his shoot-from-the-hip quips, some of which have gotten him into trouble, Pope Francis has been a soundbite machine.

While he has become more scripted the longer his papacy has gone on, his frank and easy style of conversation, and his simple language and warm engagement with both members of the public and political leaders, were initially among most appealing aspects of Francis after his election.

He was elected pope March 13, 2013, ushering in a string of ‘firsts' for the Catholic Church.

Not only had the church experienced the first papal resignation in 600 years, with Benedict XVI's historic decision to step down from the papacy, but the church also got its first Jesuit pope and its first Latin American pope.

Thanks to the growth of social media platforms over the past decade, Francis is also the first real ‘digital' pope, in the sense that he has accounts on most major social networks and thus has a higher global visibility than most of his predecessors likely did, meaning he quickly gained a reputation for the colorful soundbites he has often let fly.

Some of his remarks seemed odd or humorous, such as his declaration to believers during a general audience address in May 2013 that Christians should be joyful, rather than having a face like a "pickled pepper."

Many of his comments have been appreciated, such as his description of God's love as a "caress" and his focus on forgiveness, and others less so, such as his flap on a handful of occasions that women are "the cherry on top of the cake," and thus need to be more fully included in the church.

Yet of all the quotes Pope Francis has given the church over the years, some stand out either because of the publicity they gained, or the relevance they hold to the overall tone of his papacy.

Here is a rundown of some of the top papal soundbites since 2013:

Hacer Lío

During his first international trip to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil in July 2013 - an appointment Pope Francis assumed after the resignation of his predecessor's resignation - the new pope from the new world held a special meeting with Argentine youth, telling them to hacer lío, which is Argentine slang that translates roughly as "make a mess" or "wreak havoc."

"I want the church to go out to the streets," he said, lamenting high youth unemployment and warning young people to guard themselves against "all worldliness, opposition to progress, from that which is comfortable, from that which is clericalism, from all that which means being closed up in ourselves."

Over the years, many critics have argued, with a sense of irony, that Pope Francis throughout much of his papacy has followed his own advice, making a "mess" of things with his ambiguity on matters such as communion for the divorced and remarried or any number of things, while admirers have defended this ‘go out to the streets' style as a necessary opening bringing the church into the 21st century.

Either way, this bite made waves at the time, and has been emblematic of much of Pope Francis's own style, at least in the early years of his papacy.

Who am I to judge?

On his return flight from that Rio trip in 2013, Pope Francis raised eyebrows when, in response to a question on homosexual clergy, he said, "If someone is gay and he searches for the Lord and has good will, who am I to judge?"

For many, it was a shocking statement from the leader of a global institution still largely considered as homophobic by significant portions of society, and where many homosexual individuals have struggled to find welcome and acceptance.

This one line is perhaps the most famous of all Pope Francis's soundbites over the years, and it has come to represent his broader outreach to the LGBTQ community throughout his 10 years as pope.

Though he has not changed official church teaching or even publicly green-lighted blessings for same-sex couples, he has repeatedly stressed the need to be more welcoming and inclusive toward homosexual Catholics and has repeatedly met with Catholic LGBTQ groups and activists, including his fellow Jesuit, Father James Martin.

The smell of the sheep

Yet another famous papal soundbite that Francis has continually recycled throughout his time in office is for priests to take on "the smell of the sheep," being pastors close to their people, rather than administrators governing from a stale, cold office.

He first uttered the phrase in a Chrism Mass barely two weeks after his election in March 2013, telling priests in an off-the-cuff remark during his homily that, "This is what I am asking you, be shepherds with the smell of sheep."

This one soundbite neatly sums up Pope Francis's entire approach to pastoral care and practice, and it quickly set the tone for his expectations of the clergy under his guidance.

Church as a field hospital

Perhaps one of the most poignant images of the church that Pope Francis has conjured was his description early on of the church as "a field hospital" during an interview with Jesuit Father Antonio Spadaro, editor of the Jesuit-run magazine La Civiltà Cattolica, in August 2013.

During that conversation, which took place in three different meetings, Francis said, "The thing the church needs most today is the ability to heal wounds and to warm the hearts of the faithful; it needs nearness, proximity. I see the church as a field hospital after battle."

"It is useless to ask a seriously injured person if he has high cholesterol and about the level of his blood sugars! You have to heal his wounds. Then we can talk about everything else," he said.

In this one soundbite, Pope Francis painted out his entire vision for the church's role, and that of its pastors, in the world, which has underpinned much of his own pastoral decisions, including, among other things, those coming out of the 2014 and 2015 Synods of Bishops on the Family (communion for the divorced and remarried), the Synod on the Amazon (protecting indigenous populations), and even his outreach to the LGBTQ community.

Breeding like ‘rabbits'

Pope Francis raised eyebrows again, and created a significant amount of backlash when on a return flight from the Philippines in 2015 he told reporters that good Catholics should practice "responsible" parenting, and did not need to breed like "rabbits."

He had been asked about the church's stance against artificial birth control, given that during the trip he had met with a group of children who'd been abandoned because their parents could not take care of them.

Francis in his response remained firm against artificial birth control, saying new life was part of the sacrament of marriage, but cautioned that, "Some people think that … in order to be good Catholics we have to be like rabbits.

"No. Parenthood is about being responsible. This is clear."

To this end, he referred to the case of a woman he'd met who had seven children by Caesarean section and was expecting her eighth, saying the pregnancy was irresponsible because it put the mother's health and that of her unborn child at risk, while she already had so many who needed her, and noted that population experts had advised three children per family.

This papal remark, while eliciting a few grins, caused enormous backlash amongst the pro-life community, especially the American Catholic prolife movement, who viewed the pope's comment as critical and offensive.

It arguably marked the undeniable beginning of the end of the honeymoon phase for Francis, particularly with conservative American Catholics. Continue reading

By 'clericalism' I mean the tendency to place priests on a pedestal, to accept their pronouncements as gospel, encouraging them to feel, as Pope Francis says, 'superior to lay people.'

It begins in seminary training when candidates start to see themselves as joining a unique male, celibate, secretive caste enjoying privilege and power, set apart from ordinary humanity by ordination.

Clericalism is at the root of sexual abuse when inadequate, immature men feel they can use children to satisfy their warped sexual impulses.

It is a way of life far removed from Jesus, 'the man who had nowhere to lay his head' (Matthew 8:20). It's also very different to Pope Francis' call to priests to experience 'the smell of the sheep.'

But in his recent (March 19, 2022) Apostolic Constitution entitled Praedicate Evangelium, 'Preach the Gospel', Pope Francis dealt clericalism a major blow.

This is the final document in a long-planned reform of the Roman Curia, the Vatican bureaucracy.

The cardinals who elected him in 2013 asked Francis to restructure the curia following several scandals under Benedict XVI and John Paul II.

Praedicate Evangelium is the result. The practical detail is not important; my personal view is that no matter what the structure, the curia is a creature of the 16th century and is irreformable.

But there was a basic principle laid down in Praedicate Evangelium that is profoundly important with far-reaching consequences for the whole church. This principle states that any baptised Catholic 'can preside over a dicastery,' that is run a Vatican department.

Previously only ordained clerics could do this because ordination was the absolute precondition for exercising 'ordinary jurisdiction' or church governance.

Explaining the change canon lawyer, Father (now Cardinal) Gianfranco Ghirlando, SJ said unequivocally 'that the power of governance in the church does not come from ordination, but from one's mission' (my emphasis).

The absolute centrality of baptism

Yes, but so what? Well, as sometimes happens, profound, long-term change follows a seemingly minor shift of emphasis.

Essentially, Ghirlando is saying, reflecting Francis, that you don't have to be ordained a priest to exercise the power of governance in the church.

And by 'governance' Ghirlando means the administrative authority that comes with a call from the church to carry out a specific 'mission'.

Now that's a profound transposition for a church that has been fixated on clerical power for centuries. What PE does is shift the focus away from ordination to restore the absolute centrality of baptism.

All Catholics can now share in church governance by the very fact of their baptism.

The people of God already share in the common priesthood of those baptized into Christ's death and resurrection. The distinction between the ordained and the baptised is one of function, not of the essence.

The 20th-century theologian who restored the role of laypeople was Yves Congar, OP (1904-1995). His theology broke down the separation between the spiritual and secular world, a separation that long bedevilled Catholicism.

Reflecting Congar, the Vatican II Decree on the Laity is clear that the church lives in the world to bring it to Christ, not into some separate spiritual sphere. Congar wrote that the church is challenged 'by the world to re-join it, in order to speak validly of Jesus Christ.'

This is literally the Catholic 'mission statement', the reason for the church's existence.

Historian Edmund Campion says that Catholics were persuaded by Congar that 'all of us were responsible for what the church did … that waiting to be told what to do was foolish …that there was work for us … as servants of the world which had its own destiny in God's plan' (Then and Now, 2021).

However, Praedicate Evangelium takes a step beyond the mission of all the baptised. While still using the word, Praedicate Evangelium is actually talking about a specific kind of mission.

It's saying that any baptised person can be called to governance in the church. This is a call to a more focused mission, that of leadership

Distinguished Australian theologian, John N. Collins, is helpful here.

He has conclusively shown that in the New Testament the Greek word Diakonia, which we translate as 'ministry', refers explicitly to a public role of leadership in the church's mission, which is recognised by the community (Diakonia. Re-interpreting the Ancient Sources, 1990).

So, leaders in Catholic schools, hospitals, aged care, social services or, in the terms of Praedicate Evangelium, a Vatican dicastery, are called to ministerial leadership.

Other staff are invited to share in the mission of proclaiming Christ in the world, or participating in and supporting the ethos of the organisation.

While Praedicate Evangelium is right when it re-situates mission in baptism, it would have been much clearer if it had picked up John Collins' re-interpretation of Diakonia, ministry, because that is what it is really referring to when it talks about 'presiding over a dicastery.'

In the Australian context, I would argue that the women and men exercising leadership in a specific work of the church are truly ministers.

In a Catholic school, for example, the principal and the RE co-ordinator are the ministerial leaders of the school community, modelling and engendering the mission of proclaiming Christ and the Catholic tradition.

In hospitals and aged care facilities, the leadership ministry is more complex with their disparate medical, nursing and domestic staff, visiting doctors and specialists, and volunteers.

Most Catholic hospitals are now part of larger organisations such as Mercy Health, St Vincent's Health Australia, or Calvary Health Care, with an overall coordinating body, Canberra-based Catholic Health Australia (CHA).

CHA focuses its ministerial emphasis on the 'wholistic healing ministry' of Jesus, meaning that he cured and integrated the whole person, not just the physical illness or disease.

In conclusion, there's no doubt that Praedicate Evangelium is a revolutionary if understated document. It would have been clearer if it had picked up Collins' re-interpretation of ministry as leadership because that's what it's talking about.

But it is a decisive, even revolutionary theological shift because it re-roots ministry in the mission to which all are called by baptism.

• Paul Collins is the author of 15 books, several of which focus on church governance and Australian Catholicism.
• First published in La-Croix International. Republished with permission.