How does one address a cardinal? Well, it depends. If you were still living in medieval times, when the Pope was regarded as a monarch and his advisers as princes, you would address him as “Your Eminence.” You would also have to address bishops as “Your Excellency” or “Your Grace” if they headed a metropolitan province.
But we are not living in those times anymore, are we? These titles are a thing of the past. And those who cling to them continue to live in the past.
If we go further back to the real past on which the Church is founded—on Jesus and the apostles—we would see how inconsistent these titles are with Jesus of Nazareth. He told his disciples not to imitate the Pharisees, who “wear their phylacteries and lengthen their tassels…love places of honor at banquets, seats of honor…greetings…and titles” (Mt 23:6-7).
He immediately admonished the two young disciples who were aspiring for titles of honor, saying to them in Mk 10:43-45, “It shall not be so among you. Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant….”
Apparently, that’s why cardinals wear red—the color of martyrdom. Those bloody red vestments (pardon the double meaning) are meant to make a bold statement, one that may sound ridiculous to some or even fanatical to others: “I’m a dead man walking. I no longer live for myself; I live only for Christ. These robes are washed by the blood of Christ.”
“How would you like to be addressed?” This question was posed by the facilitator of our work group at the Synod. Nobody gave a title, just their first name. So I said, “Call me Ambo,” like the “ambo” of the Church, the stand from which the Word of God is proclaimed. That’s what my ministry as bishop is essentially about.
However, I also know that in Asian culture, people would feel awkward addressing an elder by their first name. By adding a relational designation to the person we’re addressing, we can actually call them by name. Like Ate Viring, Kuya Mike, Tito Maning, Tita Mila, Nanay Linda, Tatay Mar, Lolo Ponsing, Lola Iska. These are not titles for us; they’re expressions of how we relate to them and who they are in our lives.
That’s why “Father” is not really a title for us; “Reverend” is. Calling a priest “Father Edgar” is an endearing gesture. “Bishop” is not regarded as a title; “Most Reverend” is. Calling your bishop “Bishop Rene” is an endearing gesture. “Cardinal” is not a title, “Eminence” is. Calling Cardinal Tagle “Cardinal Chito” is an endearing gesture.
“Pope” is not a title; “Your Holiness” is. Even the Supreme Pontiff of the Catholic Church is simply called “Papa,” to emphasize his role in the Church as a father. We endearingly call him Pope Francis or Holy Father, not “His Holiness, the Supreme Pontiff.” He himself simply refers to himself as “Bishop of Rome” and signs his name simply as Franciscus or Francis. He never forgot how Filipinos called him “Lolo Kiko.”
The retired Cardinal Gaudencio Rosales was fondly called “Lolo Dency,” meaning Grandfather Dency. I wouldn’t mind being called that, but maybe in my native Kapampangan: “Apung Ambo.” If you want me to frown at you, call me “Eminence.” If you want me to smile, just call me “Apung Ambo.”
If you want to be a bit formal, call me by my ministry—Bishop Ambo. That’s the ministry I was ordained for. (There is no ordination for a bishop when he becomes a cardinal. He remains a bishop.) Even the Pope is basically just a bishop, like all other bishops. It’s just that his being Bishop of Rome and successor of Peter gives him the responsibility of “presiding over his brother bishops in charity.” We bishops are all just that—servants of God. And the Pope, who is called the Supreme Pontiff, is the servant of the servants of God and is expected to be “the supreme bridge-builder.” That’s what Supreme Pontiff means—the keeper of the communion of the universal Church.
When the Pope names a brother bishop a “Cardinal,” it means he’s asking him to help in carrying out his “bridge-building task.” That can only be done with a lot of KENOSIS—self-emptying, the attitude Jesus expects of his friends when they are given a share in his mission. (Philippians 2:1-11). This attitude says: “There has to be less of me for there to be more of him. It’s Jesus at work, and he’s only asking us to participate in his life and mission.”
Our motto should be that of St. John the Baptist, who called himself the Friend of the Bridegroom: “He must increase; I must decrease” (Jn 3:30).
From here on, I will take seriously the little advice Pope Francis gave me when I met him the other day and had the gall to complain, saying, “You should have at least given me advanced notice!” He said, “Tomátelo con un granito de humor divino”—take it with a little grain of divine humor.
I will also keep in mind what he said in his letter to our batch of 21, whom he’s calling to a Consistory on December 7: “…I assure you of my prayers that the title of ‘servant’ will increasingly eclipse that of ‘eminence.’”
Bishop Pablo Virgilio David of Kalookan is President of the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of the Philippines and the incoming Vice-President of the Federation of Asian Bishops’ Conferences.
On October 6, Pope Francis announced a Consistory for the creation of new Cardinals, scheduled for December 8, 2024. Bishop David was among the 21 bishops selected to become Cardinals.
Bishop David posted this reflection on his Facebook account a few hours after the announcement was made.