Guestblogger <Rule 15b>Sal</Rule15b> writes:
When I went up to go to confession Saturday, someone had placed a picture of the Pope on an easel in the narthex and draped it in black. The picture was “the red and gold” photo – one of the earliest official portraits. When I looked closer, I saw that the face and body were in bas relief: the picture was made of pressed plastic. And it was in one of those frames that aren’t even real wood, but wood-grained contact paper over pressboard. It had probably been hanging in the church office for twenty years., or someone brought it from home. Which is one of the things I love about the Church – we can be tacky and magnificent at the same time.
Sunday morning, my oldest daughter – the one I was expecting when John Paul II was elected- came over with our granddaughter to pick up some moving boxes.
“You know what we did last night? “ she asked. “ We just lay in bed and watched the coverage of the Pope’s life for hours. Jake said ‘Why are we doing this?’ but we couldn’t turn it off. It was so fascinating.”
Now you need to understand that our son-in-law is completely unchurched and innocent of any religious background at all. He’s not hostile towards religion – just doesn’t know anything about it. For him to watch hours of cable news about a man who didn’t even touch the periphery of his experience means something.
“You just can’t help but like him, “he said.
I didn’t convert until 1985, six years into this papacy. I credit the Pope’s unwavering stand on the things that actually matter with reassuring me that the Church really was indefectible, that rough patches could be overcome, and that God does provide- in this case, the right man for the job. And that in spite of the surrounding seeming chaos, it was still perfectly possible to be a good Catholic. At the time, my friends cautioned: “Oh, he’s okay – but what about the next guy? Huh?” After twenty years in the Church, I’m sure the “next guy” will do just fine.