The pope’s ‘ugly’ chair row is pathetic: what matters is what he says, not where he sits

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/sep/24/pope-chair-row-new-york-francis-throne-game-of-thrones

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In a world of war and suffering when refugees are dying and governments failing in their human duties, it really is odd to get angry about a chair. But people have got cross about the plain wooden throne with white upholstering that New York’s Catholic community commissioned for Pope Francis. Apparently it is a sin against good design, a disgrace to the papal backside.

Is it really? Or is this chair’s simplicity, even its “ugliness” if you say so, just an expression of the pontiff’s lack of pretension and commitment to compassion?

The clue is in the name he took. Pope Francis named himself after Francis of Assisi, the medieval preacher of poverty and humility. Do we associate Saint Francis with gorgeous thrones and sedentary finery? No. He is famous for preaching to the birds, talking to a wolf and casting aside earthly wealth. Giotto portrayed him as an ascetic in a rocky wilderness without anything resembling a throne in sight.

Thrones are an expression of everything the modern age does and should abhor

The idea of a throne – a seat of power, a seat of glory – is as medieval as Saint Francis but it represents all he protested against: the wealth of the church and the potency of the great.

Today’s most familiar image of a throne is a monstrous medievalist concoction that reeks of cruelty and violence. The feuding families and evil lineages in HBO’s drama Game of Thrones are all competing to sit on the Iron Throne. This evil chair is made of weapons that were melted by a dragon’s breath. It bristles with sword points. Would critics of the pope’s plain, undistinguished throne prefer him to sit on something like this grotesque embodiment of power?

The designers of the Iron Throne were surely inspired by the Throne of Weapons, which belongs to the British Museum. This regal seat was made by the Mozambique artist Kester using AK47 rifles and other guns left over from Mozambique’s civil war. Forged in 2001 (without the use of dragon fire as far as I know) it has become one of contemporary Africa’s most famous artistic creations.

Presumably the Game of Thrones design team saw it and got the idea to create a medieval version with swords instead of guns. Yet both sculptures – for such they are – are parodies of the traditional throne. We are no longer in a throne-worshipping age. We believe in human equality (or claim to).

Thrones are an expression of everything the modern age does, and should, abhor. Pope Francis is right to feel embarrassed about sedentary pomp, and New York’s decision to create a humble, undistinguished, even unattractive seat for him is an understandable expression of this same unease with posh seats.

Conventional golden thrones are a joke these days. Bradley Wiggins posed in one. Posh and Becks outraged good taste with their “wedding thrones”. But a serious belief in thrones belongs to a past that – literally – enthroned inequality.

Kester’s throne of guns comments on Africa’s tradition of investing seats with symbolism. Rulers in Africa have long been marked out by special seats, from carved stools to complexly crafted chairs.

In Europe too the throne is an ancient marker of authority. This is especially true of where the pope puts his bottom. When the pope speaks “ex cathedra”, it means that he makes a pronoucement from his throne. An order ex cathedra comes straight from the papal seat. Cathedra in Latin means a teacher’s seat, and came to mean an ecclesiastical throne. A cathedral is a church where a bishop has his throne.

The most glamorous throne in the world floats in a golden sky in St Peter’s, the papal basilica in the Vatican. It is the Chair of Saint Peter, a relic encased by Bernini in the 17th century in gilt bronze and set aloft among shafts of golden metal light and swarming putti. Bernini’s baroque masterpiece asserts the majesty of the church and the glory of the pope.

It is astonishing. But it is also deeply embarrassing for a modern, reforming pope. Would critics of the pope’s New York chair really like to see him enthroned in golden glory in a Bernini spectacle? What nonsense.

It is pathetic to rage at the seat that New York made for the pope. What matters is not where Francis rests his body but what he says with his generous mind. In New York he spoke of poverty and climate change. This is a pope who does so much more than sit around. Forget the throne. Listen to the message.