Federico Lombardi (born in Saluzzo, Italy, in 1942) has been one of the most influential Church communicators during the last 40 years. He fully belongs to that small number of key figures (he would call them ‘constellations’) who in each pontificate revolve around the head of the Catholic Church, and who—with their advice, their contributions and their interventions—shape it and provide meaningful interpretation.
More remarkably, he has fulfilled that unique role during three very different pontificates. As a good Jesuit, he has put his intelligence, his profound culture and his tireless work ethic at the service of Popes John Paul II, Benedict XVI and Francis each in turn, with full fidelity to the mission entrusted to him and—a sort of a miracle—without ceasing to be himself or compromising his conscience and free discernment.
If we were to ask him what his favorite position has been, I think he would answer without hesitation Vatican Radio, at which he worked in various capacities for over 40 years. But he also directed the Vatican Television Center (CTV) and transformed it from a small audiovisual production center into a fundamental piece of all Vatican communication. Even more, he succeeded Joaquín Navarro-Valls in the direction of the Holy See Press Office, and he faced his same challenges with style and diverse profiles, but with the same harmony towards the ruling pope at all times.
Papi, Vaticano, comunicazione. Esperienze e riflessioni [Popes, Vatican, Communication. Experiences and Reflections] is a great little book, which goes far beyond what it promises. The author presents it in his typical low-profile style: a collection of articles and interventions published here and there, whose common thread is communication. Lombardi has slightly revised those papers to give them unity at the request of a friend, as well as to get rid of the repeated request of so many—among whom I count myself—to leave in writing his memories of so many key episodes of these three pontificates, lived behind the scenes of History with a capital H. Like any good appetizer, this small work is delicious in the mouth but only increases appetite.
The temptation to choose the most important episodes of the book and tell them here is strong, because they are many and quite tasty. However, that would be to spoil it for readers of this review, who will prefer to enjoy the stories directly from the source. So I’m just going to list some of the many reasons to read it, and a few more to encourage the author to continue down memory lane.
The volume begins with his vision of the profound meaning of each of the three pontificates in which he has served, which gives the interpretative framework to understand them in a broader context. Twenty-first century society is increasingly polarized, and the Catholic Church is certainly not immune to that detrimental trend. Many authors and commentators on Church matters define themselves as followers of one pope and detractors of another, and there is no shortage of those who criticize one to highlight the virtues of the previous or the subsequent pope. Lombardi does the opposite: he interprets them with a key of unity. He manifests the deep connection that exists between the three pontiffs, because he goes to the core of the matter. Paraphrasing Pope Benedict’s expression (a pope with whom he keeps serving, as the director of the Josef Ratzinger Foundation), Lombardi exercises, one could say, ‘the hermeneutics of continuity and reform’ with regard to popes.
In the end, the Church is a boat, which in recent decades has had three different pilots. The marked destination for all of them was and is the same, but the force of the wind, the currents of the sea and even the energies of the paddlers are in continuous change, and therefore each pilot has to turn the rudder to port or starboard, as the only way to reach the destination, which remains unchanged. Lombardi's analysis helps us to see everything with perspective, and to understand the differences as something good in themselves, something that God, Lord of history and of the Church, counted on.
The second part of the book explains the purpose and activity of the three bodies of the Holy See that he has led for many years. It begins with his favorite, Vatican Radio. He traces the main milestones in its 75 years of history, from its creation in 1931 by Pope Pius XI, with the collaboration of Guillermo Marconi himself, until its disappearance as an autonomous body with its integration into the Dicastery for Communication, in 2016.
Lombardi tells the story from within. Step by step, he recalls the problems that the Holy See faced at each point, and the technical and communicative response given to it by the Jesuits who directed it at each moment. He recalls affectionate memories of specific people, who quite often made possible epic accomplishments, despite the scarcity of means, the criticism in some circles and the inability of others to understand that the money used was a good investment and had an incalculable effect in bringing about deeper communion.
The tone is restrained, as in everything Lombardi writes. But the reader will appreciate the author's pain in narrating the disappearance of Vatican Radio, which leads him to highlight the lessons that should not be forgotten about that adventure.
He then deals with the Holy See Press Office, the ‘Sala Stampa’. It begins with a profile of Joaquín Navarro-Valls, his predecessor in office. These are generous pages of great cordiality, which indirectly show the greatness of the soul of Lombardi himself. In line with his memories of Dr. Navarro, as he was called in Rome, Lombardi weaves a series of subtle reflections, which can go unnoticed by the distracted reader.
I may be wrong, but I dare to interpret these comments as a vindication of the figure of the communicator at the service of the Church. The differences between the two are remarkable: a layman vs. a religious; an Opus Dei member vs. a jesuit priest; a psychiatrist and afterwards experienced journalist vs. someone who—as he himself opens his book by saying—never received academic training in communication….
Even the ways in which each interpreted his personal relationship with the popes seem to be at the antipodes. As several co-authors of the book El Portavoz (edited by Rafael Navarro-Valls and published by Rialp in 2020) recount, the only condition that Navarro placed on his acceptance of being the director of Sala Stampa was to have direct access to John Paul II, while Lombardi is almost bragging when he says, ‘I do not call the Pope on the phone or ask to speak with him if it is not strictly necessary.’
And yet, there is a remarkable and surprising continuity, a seamless junction of two different serving styles, both of which achieve the same thing. This cohesion may not have happened while Dr. Navarro directed the Sala Stampa and Fr. Lombardi directed Vatican Radio; but it came later, when the Italian succeeded the Spaniard in his post and had to face the same battles, the external ones with journalists who have huge agendas and little professional rigor, and the internal ones with those in authority at the Church who thought, and unfortunately keep thinking, that transparency is a chimera, and that those in power in the Church shouldn’t be accountable (or can freely decide when to be accountable and when not, which is even a worse manipulation).
Using the expression ‘parallel convergence’, which became popular in Italy to describe its unique political debate, we could say that Navarro’s silk neckties and elegant suits and Lombardi’s appearance as a sober and sometimes disheveled clergyman were at the service of the same message, and both invested 150% of their energies and professionalism to a shared mission.
I am convinced that Navarro would sign off without hesitation on many of Lombardi's reflections: on the importance of communicators being present at the time of decision-making; that the authorities of the Church should not hide anything from them, and even less that they lie to them, because that is to the detriment of the Church itself; that working in institutional communication requires study, analysis, creativity, research and good proofs and arguments: in short, professionalism and a job well done.
In that sense, and with my sincere appreciation for those who have succeeded Navarro and Lombardi, there is no doubt that these two were giants of Vatican communication, and that since then—and this book review is not the place to discuss the reasons for that—the figure of the communication advisor in the Holy See has been greatly devalued, as present vaticanisti often claim.
In my opinion, the book’s meatiest part is where Fr. Lombardi illustrates and explains how a Church communication office should deal with media. Those reflections and experiences are not useful only for communicators working for dioceses, episcopal conferences and any other Catholic institutions, but for their leaders, whether they be bishops, presidents, superiors general, provosts or directors of Catholic hospitals.
Along the same line, it is worth underlining his comments and stories on the importance of preparing each public intervention, without being carried away by superficiality and haste; the need of monitoring traditional and new media and providing an immediate response, where necessary; the relevance of using clear, understandable and unequivocal language; treating all journalists objectively, even if they do not respond with the same token; and the indispensable requirement to always tell the truth, no matter what.
This second part ends with Lombard’s experience at the Vatican Television Center, which he managed to provide—in the midst of enormous economic difficulties—with the teams and technical equipment to bring the image of the Pope to the entire planet, and which crystallized in two decisive moments: the death of John Paul II, his funeral and the subsequent conclave, and the resignation of Benedict XVI with images of poignant beauty and meaning.
In addition, almost in a lowered voice, Lombardi exposes what led him to unify languages (texts, audio and video) in the communication of the Holy See, not moved by theories read in books but by his intuition as an experienced communicator.
Finally, an article as an epilogue explains what the author means by communication in the Church: a service to communion, truth and beauty. And all, without one word higher than the other, without criticizing anyone, or at most calling true serious mistakes of their superiors ‘less happy experiences’. A practical manifestation of his own principles: if you communicate, do it to unite, not to divide.
The volume closes with a small anthology of texts in difficult situations, about different controversies: the censorship of a wayward theologian, the criticism of the baptism of a Muslim in St. Peter's Basilica broadcast live, a comment about Vatileaks… The author has carefully chosen a few explanations attributed to the Holy See, probably coming from his pen, which can serve as an example to explain controversial issues with clarity and charity.
I can’t finish this review without mentioning that I do want more… and I think bishops and Church communicators deserve more. Lombardi was either protagonist or front-row witness of several episodes of Church’s recent history in which good and bad communications were at the core of the matter. Some names come to my mind in a heartbeat: Groer, Law, Maciel, Milingo, Regensburg, Williamson, Gotti Tedeschi, Sodano, McCarrick, Zanchetta, etc., etc. Maybe now or maybe later, but history demands explanations, and the Church can learn some takeaways. Unfortunately for him, Lombardi is the only one who could do it in a complete way, factually and fairly.
May these lines serve to encourage many, bishops and communicators alike, to read this great little book, to underline it so that they do not miss the nuggets of gold, and to follow its numerous pieces of advice; and to the author to devote time to writing down more of the episodes that he has lived through that can yield fruitful lessons for communication in the Church.
IESE Business School, Barcelona, Spain
School of Church Communications, Pontifical University of the Holy Cross, Rome, Italy
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