Given the size and scope of Roman Catholicism, the pope can make a difference not only for Catholic people but also for much of the world's population. Whether deserved or not, he (not she, at least so far) who occupies the Chair of St. Peter has a lot of sway.

One need only hearken back to 1958 and the supposed nonentity chosen as a transitional pope after the death of Pius XII while the hierarchy found its bearings. Angelo Roncalli became John XXIII and wasted no time in turning things upside down at the Vatican, shocking the curial establishment into an immediate defensive crouch.

Roncalli had his way, though, and while he did not live to see the Second Vatican Council complete its modernizing work, it turned out to be what he apparently had wanted for the church when he called for "aggiornamento" -- essentially, an opening to the needs of the present moment with a willingness to explore opportunities for the future.

On his way to that decision, he endeared himself to the rational world with this prayerful lamentation following upon his indefatigable work to help save European Jews from death in Nazi prison camps: "We are conscious today that many, many centuries of blindness have cloaked our eyes so that we can no longer see the beauty of Thy chosen people nor recognize in their faces the features of our privileged brethren. We realize that the mark of Cain stands upon our foreheads. Across the centuries our brother Abel has lain in blood which we drew, or shed tears we caused by forgetting Thy love. Forgive us for the curse we falsely attached to their name as Jews. Forgive us for crucifying Thee a second time in their flesh."

We have waited long for Roncalli's philosophical successor. That successor was neither the Hamlet-like Giovanni Montini (Paul VI) who gave the word the retrogressive Humanae Vitae, nor yet by any measure Karl Wojtya (John Paul II). It might have been Albino Luciani (John Paul I), but he died after only 33 days as pope under mysterious circumstances that have never been explained.

It was known that Luciani was disrespected and disliked by the curial crowd. He gave every indication that he would try to return the church to the spirit of Vatican II and of its author, Roncalli. Luciani's successor, Wojtyla, succeeded in undoing much of the good Vatican II had wrought and was done one better in that department by his successor Joseph Ratzinger (Benedict XVI) who retired from the papacy earlier this year.

Now comes Francis, a Jesuit Italian from Argentina, who declines to live in palatial splendor, craves lunching and dining with whoever will join him, took the bus to work as the Archbishop of Buenos Aires, prepared his own food in his cramped apartment there and seems in all ways a priest of the people and for the people.

He is on record as telling the church hierarchy that it should cool it with ideology on such issues as gay marriage and reproductive rights. He smiles a lot and is wont to get off clever one-liners that create a lot of good will for him and the monster organization of which he is the current personification.

Is he too good to be true? Will he eventually be checkmated by intra-Vatican intransigence or, worse, meet an early death at the hands of those who yearn to have their church become the manifestation of the counter-Reformation Council of Trent at which Catholicism was re-etched in unforgiving granite?

In my disillusionment with Barack Obama whose 2008 and 2012 elections made me feel that "Yes! We Can!" was finally a possibility in this fractious nation of ours, I am ever more chary of embracing another messianic figure for fear that he or she will disappoint or be rendered impotent by political enemies. Yet a pope, at least in theory, does not have to appease political rivals. He can keep the job until he drops, or in Ratzinger's case, tires of it.

John XXIII demonstrated that a pope can do pretty much what he wants within the actually pretty expansive philosophical universe of the historic church. Any pope with a stroke of a pen could undo the silliness of mandated priestly celibacy, of an all-male priesthood, of the Catholic obsession with sexuality and the alleged evil of reproductive rights. And he would still have a church and a Vatican and a place to sleep and eat.

Should he do such things, Francis might find himself the spiritual leader of a lot more people than he is at present, that is of those who would really respect him and follow the progressive path down which he may propose to lead them.

This adoptive Argentinian Jesuit bishop who now wears the white cassock may accord enormous honor to the venerable friar of Assisi whose name he took in his consecration simply by being a pastor to a global parish and not an ecclesiastical CEO guarding privilege and perquisites at world headquarters.

It is to hope.

What reviewers said:

"Important and heart-warming ... Cook's keen insights into the most familiar of old-time gospel hymns ... help you do theology like a grownup."
--Robin Meyers, author of Saving Jesus from the Church

"A compelling look at centuries of Christian theology and practice, at how particular hymns have shaped American faith and religious thought."
--Richard Webster, Director of Music and Organist at Trinity Church, Boston

"A call to integrity in worship ... This exciting, penetrating and provocative study explores the theology we sing, which re-enforces the dated and pre-modern theology from which the Christian faith seeks to escape."
--John Shelby Spong, author of Re-Claiming the Bible for a Non-Religious World