One year ago tomorrow, Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio of Buenos Aires became Pope Francis I, and the 364 days since have witnessed the nearest thing to a canonization that can be pulled off for someone who isn’t dead.

Most of the adulation has come from the religious and secular left (traditionalists have been muted in their praise). Some hope Pope Francis will soon endorse same-sex marriage, contraception and the ordination of women.

Don’t bet on it. Even if the pope wanted to make such changes — and he has explicitly stated that he doesn’t — they wouldn’t take unless the Roman Catholic faithful throughout the world agreed, and most of them do not. The Roman Catholic Church is big and powerful, but it is more like a mighty turtle than a mighty gazelle. And that’s not all bad. It’s a good defense against the sin of fadishness.

Rome rarely admits it has erred. The major exception was Pope John Paul II, who apologized often — to Jews, Galileo, women, people convicted under the Spanish Inquisition, Muslims and Byzantine Christians killed in the Crusades, and others.

Usually, when Catholic authorities realize they’ve made a mistake, they just stop talking about it. Until Vatican II in the 1960s, for example, Rome said it was the “one true church” outside of which there was no salvation. The faithful were even told never to set foot in a Protestant church. A priest at a Catholic church in Gulf Shores in the 1990s told me exactly that. But apart from that priest and a few others educated in the 1950s, Roman Catholic leaders haven’t talked that way for decades.

That’s as close to a doctrinal change as you’re going to get from Rome. If Catholic authorities ever change their minds on same-sex marriage, contraception, and the ordination of women, don’t expect to hear it proclaimed with trumpet fanfare from St. Peter’s Basilica. And don’t expect it anytime soon.

So you liberals and secularists out there step back, breathe deeply, and get a grip on reality. Pope Francis is not one of you.

There’s good reason, however, for the pope’s astonishing popularity. He has set a new tone, both in what he does and in what he says, and tone is important.

Francis has eschewed the regal accouterments in which many of his predecessors wrapped themselves. He has washed the feet of the poor. He carries his own luggage. He resides in a small, simple apartment within the Vatican. He doesn’t judge people. These changes may be largely symbolic, but symbolism matters.

Francis seems truly to be of a mind with the great saint whose name he assumed upon becoming pope, Francis of Assisi. Students of church history often say that of all those who have claimed to follow Jesus through the centuries, Francis of Assisi’s life most resembled that of his Master. Why is Pope Francis so popular? Because he seems a lot like Jesus.

Jesus angered and frightened some people, however, so it’s not surprising that Francis does, too. As the Pharisees and Sadducees attacked Jesus, Rush Limbaugh and Sarah Palin have attacked Pope Francis.

Perhaps that’s because he sometimes seems to talk about economics, which some say is none of the church’s business. But Francis isn’t really talking economics. He’s talking Christian values, and if they conflict with popular economic policies, he isn’t afraid to say so. The pope said late last year:

“How can it be that it is not a news item when an elderly homeless person dies of exposure, but it is news when the stock market loses two points?

“Some people continue to defend trickle-down theories, which assume that economic growth, encouraged by a free market, will inevitably succeed in bringing about greater justice and inclusiveness in the world. This opinion, which has never been confirmed by the facts, expresses a crude and naive trust in the goodness of those wielding economic power and in the sacralized workings of the prevailing economic system. Meanwhile, the excluded are still waiting. To sustain a lifestyle which excludes others, or to sustain enthusiasm for that selfish ideal, a globalization of indifference has developed.”

That could have come from the Sermon on the Mount. Do you find it appealing or appalling?

Richard H. Schmidt is a retired Episcopal priest, editor and author who lives in Fairhope. He can be reached at courier@gulfcoastnewspapers.com.