Because Francis could not meet the Roman priests at the Chrism Mass, he sent a Pentecost letter to them in which he writes everything and the opposite of everything.
The letter’s main subject is the coronavirus. As usual, Francis gets over emotional (“knowing how to cry with others, that's holiness”) and asks for “dreaming” and “new realities.”
Although he first locked all Roman churches and stopped all pastoral activities for weeks, he claims now that “we” did not look at the corona-crisis “through the window.”
He even makes the priests believe that “you saw the wolf coming and did not flee nor abandon the flock.”
A couple of paragraphs later, he says the opposite, “The unpredictability of the situation highlighted our inability to live and confront the unknown which we cannot manage or control; like everyone else, we have felt confused, frightened, helpless.”
Inevitable are his warnings of “recipes,” “textbook answers,” “easy exhortations,” “edifying speeches,” “false idealistic or spiritualistic complacency,” “puritanical getaways,” a “risk of withdrawing,” a “nostalgia for the recent past,” although these were precisely the things the Francis Church was displaying during the crisis.
As could be expected, he asks for “surprises,” “creativity,” “creative imagination,” “novelties,” and wants the priests to “prophesy the future.”
He gets carried away by people-romanticism when speaking about “our faithful and simple people” of which he says, “How much there is to learn from the strength of God's faithful People.”
At this point it’s evident, that Francis never was a parish priest.