It's hard to digest Pope Francis in moderation. Either you end up swooning over him, and his "radical approach" to evangelization, or you react violently to his mannerisms and personality (for plenty of good reasons, to be sure, but violently nonetheless). And even these responses are divided immoderately: there's full-on, blow-me-over swooning and swooning from exhaustion; and there's just-give-me-another-reason-to-hate-the-Church violence alongside this-is-the-fruit-of-much-prayer violence. On the whole, a pretty extreme assortment.

A more descriptive adjective for the global attitude toward Pope Francis might be euphoric. Both swooning and violence can incite euphoria, after all. Everyone—the downtrodden, the socially excluded, conservatives, liberals, media pundits, traditionalists—everyone is thrilled to have Francis in their midst. Yet all for very different reasons.

For a while, in my attempts to determine what was missing in the black versus white, hot versus cold narrative about Francis, I was convinced that what lacked was a balanced, more intellectually honest look at the man, his proclamations, and his habits. Now I think I couldn't have been more wrong. That answer held water for a while; but now, six months in, the polarization just continues to ramp up. More to the point, the euphoria, while perhaps not as acute as on March 14th (the day after his election), isn't showing signs of fading. And this amongst those who've had plenty of opportunity to consider things from a more reflective point of view.

pope-confessionIn light of all this, one response is nigh absent. I can say with near certainty that I've never seen anything written to the effect of: "I received the Eucharist more devoutly because of the pope's ministry." Or, "I confessed my sins more perfectly because of the Holy Father's example." Or, the most unlikely of them all, "I am holier because of what I see in Francis." (Incidentally, I haven't read the opposites to these claims, either.)

Indeed, this is all the more troubling since, if there's one thing for which the Holy Father has begged from the outset, it's been the acclamation of the Person of Christ, and not merely of his Vicar. Pope Francis has insisted, time and again, that it is Christ who should be glorified and no one else. He has also taught vigorously that it is God who bestows mercy through the Cross, and that any share in that ministry is something participatory and incomplete unto itself. (Think what you will of his eccentricities or intentions, these teachings have been pillars of Francis's papacy since day one.)

It's never a shock when people—even the most well-intentioned among us—gravitate toward absolutes. It's also no surprise that Christ, who teaches difficult things, would be scoffed at in the name of more comfortable, cultural, or progressive living. Yet it is more than a bit unsettling the ease with which we enter the euphoric fray of passionate Christianity—of fidelity to the teachings of Christ's Church, and of deep concern for the well-being of his flock—all without so much as a clear confession of the name of Jesus, or a gesture in his direction so that others may see him.

In dealing with the sensation that is Francis, there is an abundance of talk about orthodoxy and heterodoxy, prudence and boundaries, belief and unbelief. There is exceptionally little talk of Christ, his mercy, and the very simple things he requires of those he calls as disciples.

During his first homily as pope, Bergoglio reminded us of the three "movements" of the Christian life: camminare, edificare, confessare. Concerning the third, he noted abruptly that confession—even the Petrine paradigm—is always and inextricably linked to the possibility of the Cross, and that without this possibility our confession indicates not Christian discipleship, but allegiance to the "worldliness of the devil, the worldliness of the demonic."

One thing is sure: the Cross is not to be found in debates and talking points. It's much more rigid and unforgiving than all that. It's also much more necessary, and much more consoling. Indeed, it is what Pope Francis has been urging us to acknowledge and encounter all along.

Lest I permit the vacuum to persist for my part, let me tell you now: I have most certainly received the Eucharist more devoutly because of the pope's ministry. I have, just today, confessed my sins more perfectly because of the Holy Father's example. And I am—at least sometimes, and if only very mildly—holier because of what I see in Francis.

Andrew M. Haines is the editor and founder of Ethika Politika, and co-founder and chief operating officer at Fiat Insight.