What If Doubt Is the Answer? A Reflection on Conclave
Spoiler alert: If you don’t want to know what happens in the movie, stop reading now.
Yesterday I went to downtown to watch Conclave. I had to go all the way to downtown to a specific theatre because this was the only cinema that was playing it.
The movie is spectacular. First, the cinematography is gorgeous - the set design, including the replica of the Sistine Chapel, the juxtaposition of light and dark in different rooms, and the striking contrast of red, white, and black, are all a feast for the eyes. Some scenes left me thinking, Wow, that camera angle is incredible, it must have cost a fortune to shoot. The costume design is both elegant and authentic. I wanted to reach out and touch the red robes worn by the cardinals - the fabric looked so smooth. The score is wonderful as well, with shifting tempos that set the mood and keep the tension building throughout the film.
The movie is full of contrasts, evident in its colours, setting, characters, and central theme: certainty vs. doubt. Lawrence embarks on a hero’s journey defined by doubt. At the beginning of the movie, he expresses his desire to resign from his position and admits to struggling with prayer, a profound crisis of faith for a cardinal. He grapples with doubts about God and relentlessly seeks certainty. Desperate to determine the right choice for pope, he investigates his colleagues, growing frustrated as he uncovers hidden secrets. He oscillates between rejecting the idea of becoming pope and eventually considering a future name if appointed. His breaking point comes when he sneaks into the former pope’s room. His actions are driven by doubt. If he was truly certain, for instance, if he had unwavering faith that God exists, he would have known that God will deliver the right one to become the next pope. But without doubt, there would be no hero’s journey, no conflicts; and as Lawrence said, no faith and no Church.
It made me reflect on myself. Some time ago, I came to the conclusion that the only constant in life and the universe is that there is no constant. It is dynamic and continuously evolving. This realization brings a sense of unease. If everything is changing, what is there to hold on to? How can I truly trust the things that bring me comfort like my work, family, and friends - when they, too, can change or fall apart?
I struggle with this idea daily. There is an inner conflict between craving stability and rejecting stagnation. It even manifests in my work. I sometimes get frustrated when requirements are ambiguous, yet depending on how I approach the problem, it can also be fun because ambiguity allows for freedom. I love structure, where everything fits together perfectly, but that same structure can also be limiting, leaving little room for creativity and new possibilities.
There is no single right way to approach this, and I assume it varies from person to person. What has helped me so far is focusing on being present. When I find myself clinging to external factors, they are usually tied to either the past or the future. For example, my desire for my family to stay with me forever comes from cherished memories of the past and a fear of losing them in the future. But I have no control over either. I cannot change the past, and the future remains uncertain. While my actions might influence what lies ahead, the future is unpredictable, and each of my family members is their own person.
So when I feel uneasy about the lack of certainty, I remind myself: This is natural - you cannot change it. Live with uncertainty and doubts, it will make you continuously change and evolve for the better.
Another thing this movie made me realize was a glimpse into why some people seek faith. I never understood why anyone would rely on faith or believe in a higher being without tangible evidence. But throughout the movie, Lawrence cries out to God for help and in certain moments, God seems to answer. For example, when Lawrence first casts a vote for himself, the very moment he places his ballot, a bomb strike lands directly above the voting area. It feels like a literal act of God, as if delivering a clear message: You are not meant to be pope. That made me think, physical events like this can be interpreted as signs from God, offering direction when someone is lost or uncertain. The idea of God’s existence and his voice becomes more than just a belief. It serves as a guiding force in life, like a compass.
I loved the ending scene, it made me think Lawrence would be able to pray again.