How to Become a Dad
Are you vacillating between careers, not knowing what to do next? Maybe you should be a dad. Leader of the Holy Roman Catholic Church is a prestigious position that offers great perks, including international travel, job security, frequent media appearances, and fancy hats. You can set your own working hours, hire friends for any position and manage a small but wealthy city-state. If you are interested in positions, then why would you be interested in the phrase “Successor of the Prince of the Apostles”? It’s one of eight titles you’ll inherit, and each one is more impressive on LinkedIn than “assistant regional manager.” If the papacy sounds like a career opportunity you’d like to explore, here’s how to get that job.
How much does dad earn?
Let’s start with money. According to salary comparison website Comparably.com, the average US Pope earns $46,077 a year, but this is inaccurate. The position of the pope does not involve a salary. The idea is that you live as Christ lived, at the expense of the kindness of others. But for several thousand years, these “others” have been very generous – the Vatican City State and the Catholic Church are valued at $30 billion, and they are, in fact, at your disposal. As the absolute monarch of a small nation, you can get whatever you want or need just by asking for it. So the salary is small, but the benefits are good.
How is a father chosen?
When it comes time to elect a new Pope, the Church does not post on Indeed.com . Instead, up to 120 cardinals (bishops and Vatican officials) gather in Rome to discuss who gets the job. It’s not exactly an open process – the cardinal electors take a vow of absolute secrecy before locking themselves in the Sistine Chapel for papal elections. Presumably, the cardinals are discussing who would be the best choice to meet the needs of the church. It’s probably politicking. Alliances and electoral blocs are formed and relationships are tested. I think it’s like Survivor. Someone will probably say: “I came here to be a dad; I didn’t come here to make friends.”
The actual election proceeds as follows: each cardinal writes the name of his choice on a piece of paper, and one by one they solemnly cast their vote into a chalice placed in front of Michelangelo’s Last Judgment fresco. Lots of drama? One way or another, the votes are counted, and if no one gets two-thirds, the votes are burned in a special oven along with chemicals that form black smoke. That way, everyone outside the chapel knows that the cardinals are still chatting.
There are four rounds of voting per day, and the process continues until some lucky person gets approved. If there are 34 picks and there is no clear winner, the Cardinals can choose any selection method they want. Back in the 1270s, Pope Gregory X decreed that the longer the conclave lasted, the less food would be given to the cardinals, but this rule has unfortunately been abolished. As soon as the (full) cardinals have agreed on a person, whether it be a two-thirds vote or an arm wrestling tournament, mazel tov ! You have a new dad! Ballot papers are burned with chemicals that produce white smoke. The newborn dad chooses his name, dresses in trendy clothes, and is taken to the balcony of St. Peter’s to introduce himself to his adoring fans. The Senior Cardinal Deacon announces “Habemus Papam!” which roughly translates to “That bastard is the new boss!”
Getting your name in the papers
To become pope, you must be a member of the Roman Catholic Church, and you must be a male (after all, we don’t want women to mess with our universal church). It really is. You do not need a community college degree or any special certification or training. You can come from any background and be from any part of the world. You don’t have to be a cardinal or even a priest. All you need to do is put your name on these papers, but this is the hardest part.
As you would expect from the highest echelons of world religion, the position of pope usually goes to an insider. Since 1379, each pope has been elected from a voting college of cardinals. So, if you haven’t been promoted in the Catholic Church all your life, you’ll have to get creative to get into the special pope selection room.
Behind the scenes influence on cardinal voters
In the modern era, new popes are elected either when the old pope dies, or when the current pope resigns due to a complex internal church scandal. Wait, maybe it was “for health reasons”. In any case, 15–20 days usually elapse between the end of the last pope’s reign and the papal conclave. This period without a dad is your best opportunity to influence the vote.
John Paul II stated that the cardinals reside in St. Martha’s House, a building next to the Sistine Chapel, during the electoral process, so that you know exactly where the voters will spend their free time, pray, play golf or whatever. If you could befriend the staff at St. Martha’s, perhaps you could convince them to talk about you in a way that the cardinals would overhear. The average salary in the Vatican is shockingly low, around $36,574 a year, so a little oil can’t hurt. Perhaps two lackeys could say, “You know who could be a great dad? Steve Johnson! This is a writer from Los Angeles. Really like Jesus” while Cardinal Giovanni Battista Re walks into the Cafeteria of the Holy Roman Empire.
Another potential direction is the development of spiritual vision. Using high-tech spy equipment—holograms, hidden speakers, mind-control beams—a potential dark horse dad candidate could create a common spiritual manifestation for all the cardinals. These are ostensibly religious people, so they would apparently take it seriously if they were visited by a choir of angels singing your name. And when they told the other cardinals and they had the same vision? How could they not choose you? Besides: Cardinals are usually old, and old men are easily deceived.
Wake up the mob: the path to the papacy
Modern papal succession is relatively stable, but this has not always been the case. In 1268, the papal conclave lasted almost three years and ended only when the local mob locked up the cardinals and fed them nothing but bread and water, demanding that they elect a pope or suffer great violence and death.
In the 14th century, the Roman peasants again broke into the conclave, so that the cardinals would not elect the French pope (racists). They said to the cardinals, “Give us a pope, or your heads will be as red as your hats,” which is very sweet. As a compromise, the cardinals chose an Italian, but Pope Urban VI immediately began to scourge the cardinals and forbade them to accept bribes from kings and pocket money from the cash plate. As expected, he was deposed (don’t stop people from making a living, right?) and another Pope was elected. But Urban VI still called himself pope, so for a while there were two popes (or a pope and an antipope, if you prefer). Then, in 1409, the French and Roman cardinals elected another pope to restore order. Neither of the two existing popes has retired, so there have been three popes. Creating an angry mob to influence the outcome of a democratic election seems impossible these days (who would be such an asshole, right?), but it could triple your chances of becoming a dad.
Heavy is the head that wears the giant Pope’s hat.
When you become a dad, you will immediately become one of the most famous people in the world, but this is a strange fame. You get driven in really amazing custom cars, you fly in a private jet, crowds of people come out just to hear you talk about how wonderful God is, and you even command a small army of 110 soldiers. But you’re not invited to an Oscar after-party, and you can’t use the papacy for the sex you want. At least not outdoors. You have to at least appear “holy” in order to save the gig.
The modern position of pope does not offer the carefree life of a hedonistic rock star pope like John XII (955–964), who gave land to his mistress, killed his enemies, and was killed by a man who caught him in bed with his wife. . But you also do not live a quiet life of spiritual contemplation and learning. You’re in charge of an entire city-state, so there’s a lot of administrative work, paperwork, and hard decisions to make, such as taking pay cuts for everyone who works for you when tourism revenues drop . There are also vicious office politics. We’ll probably never know all the details – the church remains silent – but the scandal surrounding the resignation of Benedict XVI gave a glimpse of how vipers competed within the church with everything from bribery around the annual nativity scene and St. Peter’s Square to disperse funds in the Vatican bank used to gain influence and power. It’s like high school with vestments. So do you really want this job? Applebee’s is such a bad place to work?