Tony Pasin (Barker, Liberal Party) Share this | Hansard source

I congratulate my colleague for her contribution. It was a fine one. I've oscillated as I've sat here about whether I would make a contribution, and, on balance, I've determined that I will. That reluctance is a product of a couple of things, but, principally—it might not surprise you, given my Italian heritage, that I am a member of the Roman Catholic Church. Like the member for New England, I don't propose to be the model parishioner, but one thing about my faith is that it is deeply personal and something that I don't often share or, indeed, talk about. That's not in a public sense but in a private sense as well. But, on behalf of Catholics living in my electorate of Barker, I think it incumbent on me to make some comments. I appreciate that I'm standing between this chamber and its adjournment, so I'll be relatively brief.

My reluctance to speak is probably best described by an experience my sister had, and it perhaps speaks to our familial attitude to religion. My brother was—and indeed all of my siblings were—educated by Marists, but, when it came to going to university college, the only option was a university college run by Jesuit priests. Of course, we've heard the reference to Pope Francis's order. My brother, the eldest in the family, happily accepted into university college and was to be followed, two years later, by my sister, or at least we thought so. It was my sister who was interviewed by the Jesuit priest responsible for the college, and she was asked, 'Angela'—the name of my sister—'can you explain or discuss your relationship with God?' Her response was perhaps not what the Jesuit priest was expecting: 'That's none of your'—expletive—'business.' Understandably, my sister wasn't admitted to the university college and was required to make an application at the nondenominational college down the road, which she was happily accepted into. But Father Overberg, who was the Jesuit priest of the day, learnt his lesson I think.

One of the requirements of staying at Aquinas College as it was in North Adelaide at the time—and I say this is as someone who some nine years later went to the college. By that stage, you weren't required to be interviewed—maybe it was the Father Overberg's experience with my sister—but you were required to attend mass on a Sunday morning. There was an incentive to go to mass on Sunday morning because mass was at about 11 and lunch wasn't served until mass was concluded, so you either sat in your room and waited for the kitchen to open or you went to mass and then went to lunch. My sister—dogmatic as she can be—spent all of her first year at university dutifully walking from the nondenominational college to Aquinas College to sit in the front row in the chapel at mass and eyeball Father Overberg. I tell this story simply to say that we in my family like to keep our religious beliefs to ourselves. But, of course, it is important, on behalf of the Catholics of Barker, to make a contribution.

Jorge Mario Bergoglio was, of course, the 266th successor of St Peter as the Vicar of Christ and the Bishop of Rome. It's perhaps not a surprise to anyone in this place, certainly not to me, that he took the name of Pope Francis. St Francis of Assisi was an Italian Catholic friar and preacher who founded the Franciscan order. He's known for his love of nature and animals. He's the patron saint of ecology, animals and merchants. He lived a life of poverty and service, emphasising love and compassion for all creatures, and was well known for his humility. I think the most appropriate thing to say about the life of service of Pope Francis is that his beliefs aligned with those of St Francis, and, more than that, he lived them, particularly in the very stark spotlight that is being the Vicar of Christ, the Bishop of Rome and, indeed, the Pope.

People in this place understand my particular ideology, and you might not be surprised to learn that it lines up more closely with the predecessor of Pope Francis, Pope Benedict, than Pope Francis—the member's contribution earlier mentioned him being well known for his progressive approach to these things. Having said that, the one quality I absolutely admired in Pope Francis was his humility. His was arguably one of the most important positions globally, yet I'm confident—and there are very many proof points—that, from the young priest who was Bergoglio through to cardinal and to pope, there wasn't a change in attitudes, behaviours, temperaments and these things, and that is an amazing thing. It speaks to his grace. As someone who believes deeply in the importance of humility, particularly given the roles that we have the great privilege of holding, I have to say that his book is one that all of us in this place could take a significant leaf out of. I've often thought that, in politics, hubris is kryptonite. Pope Francis was the most humble of men.

As a very young person, I had the privilege of visiting Assisi. I did it in the company of one of my father's cousins, who is himself a Catholic priest living in Italy. He was preaching in Assisi and we had the privilege of accompanying him. Now, Franciscans were in Assisi. I don't remember much—I was very young—but something has always struck me about there being an Australian Franciscan on sabbatical in Assisi. Of course, this was a place of deep reflection and of deep prayer. I'd been warned by my father's uncle that we weren't to speak while on the island, but I couldn't help myself. I was a young lad with a pretty strong Australian accent in a place like Assisi, and one of the Franciscan brothers broke his vow of silence and spoke to me, a young child. I don't recall a single thing from that trip to Italy in the company of my parents, but I can remember that experience like nothing else, and I've always had a fascination with the Franciscan order as a result.

I'll make a couple of points. I think it's remarkable that it took the Catholic faith 265 predecessors to land on a pope from the Americas. That's the first thing I think is remarkable. But, more than that, there were 265 predecessors before the Jesuit order, which is such a strong order within the Catholic faith, had one of their number elected at a conclave. I don't know what the Jesuits had done, but they have, of course, now broken that cycle.

I just want to conclude by saying that the Franciscan order, and St Francis in particular, is credited with what I think is perhaps one of the most beautiful prayers of the Catholic faith. It is, of course, the prayer for peace, the prayer of St Francis of Assisi. I certainly wasn't planning this but, with the indulgence of my friend opposite and noting that I'm about to conclude my contribution, I might do this in honour of Pope Francis, who, of course, took the name of Francis as pope. Let me recite the prayer of peace:

Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

where there is injury, pardon;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

where there is sadness, joy.

O, Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;

to be understood as to understand;

to be loved as to love;

For it is in giving that we receive;

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;

it is in dying that we are born again to eternal life.

Pope Francis lived a life of duty and of service. He did it with the deepest of humility. I offer my condolences and the broader condolences of the people, particularly Catholic parishioners, in my electorate. His was a beautiful funeral, and I wish the 267th Vicar of Christ and Bishop of Rome all the very best as he continues the work and legacy of that long lineage all the way back to St Peter.

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