And this pope is political. He takes positions, including uncomfortable ones. He doesn’t dodge, he gets involved. Before negotiating rapprochement between Cuba and the United States, he held a four-hour prayer vigil for peace in Syria. He scandalized Turkey by describing the Armenian genocide as just that, and provoked Israel by acknowledging Palestine as an independent state.

Not surprisingly, critics within the church have begun quietly grumbling in the pontiff’s third year, but it is becoming increasingly audible. There are various reasons why they feel uneasy about the man from Buenos Aires: His leadership style is supposedly too authoritarian, his self-marketing is too sophisticated, he doesn’t know enough about matters of doctrine. Prominent German novelist Martin Mosebach even openly claims that this pope is making his mark “at the expense of the church.” He argues that Francis “throws around snazzy sayings” and gets attention by fitting in with the zeitgeist, but that he cares little about tradition.

As it turns out, it’s not just Bergoglio’s theological side that perplexes people, it’s also the man himself. His always soft voice obscures his word choices and contradictions. He has accused his cardinals of suffering from “spiritual Alzheimer’s” and warned believers not to breed like “rabbits.” At the same time, and in front of thousands of listeners, he praised a father who smacks his child, but never in the face. “How beautiful! He knows the sense of dignity,” he said.

Bergoglio is a surprising pope in every sense of the word. But what does he want? Does he have a plan for his church, or is he simply content turning everything in this small, walled Kremlin-like state in the middle of Rome on its head? Francis’ plan is actually for a church in which the power rises from the bottom to the top — but that also seems like an unspoken declaration of war, especially against the Vatican Curia.