I remain skeptical of the idea that the pope's outreach to non-believers is being received as anything but a concession. Here's a writer at the New York Times who is effusive in his enthusiasm that the Church might be coming to him:

The only problem with Francis is his age. If he were 50, he might have a quarter-century to move his church up several centuries in enlightened thinking. His time is short. But what a miraculous sprint, producing this minor miracle: the lapsed are listening.

You can read the whole thing here, although you don't really need to--I mean, you've pretty much got the gist of it here. Of course one can agree with the writer that much of what Francis has been saying is good in itself. But I'll agree that he's really listening when he gives some indication that he's reconsidering his own position; there is not a trace of that in the article.

And here's another one, also in the NYT, from a Notre Dame philosophy professor (I usually feel like I should put "philosophy" in quotes):

But Pope Francis speaks of the “uncertainty” always involved in the process of spiritual discernment and emphasizes that “the great leaders of the people of God, like Moses, have always left room for doubt. You must leave room for the Lord, not for our certainties.” Here the pope shows signs of having learned what most of his recent predecessors have not: that even what we take to be divinely revealed truth is a historical construct, requiring periodic refinement and revision. The question is whether he is willing to recognize the inadequacies of the hierarchy’s dogmatic stances on sexual ethics and develop a more adequate position.

Whole thing here, but again not necessarily worth the bother, as you've heard it all before.

I didn't read very many of the comments on these pieces, but most of the ones I did read support my skepticism.

Related: John Allen has a thought similar to one that has occurred to me more than once over the past couple of months:

Over his first eight months, Francis basically has killed the fatted calf for the prodigal sons and daughters of the post-modern world, reaching out to gays, women, nonbelievers, and virtually every other constituency inside and outside the church that has felt alienated.

There are an awful lot of such prodigals, of course, which helps explain the pope's massive appeal.

Yet there are also a few Catholics today who feel a bit like the story's older son, wondering if what they've always understood as their loyalty to the church, and to the papacy, is being under-valued.

Whole thing.

I've always thought the older brother is at least as important a part of the parable as the father and the prodigal. As a one-time prodigal, now at home for more than thirty years, I'm as much in the role of the older as the younger brother. And I have asked myself if some of the reservations, including my own, about some of the pope's outreach are a manifestation of that. But in my own case there's only a bit of it. My concern is not that the father is welcoming the prodigal, but that he sometimes seems contemptuous of the other. And that the prodigal, far from being repentant, think's there's good reason to expect that the welcome feast will be held at a strip club.