Sunday, April 03, 2005 :::
 
Many thoughts crowd in these long, sad, joyful days. Assessments of John Paul II's papacy come pouring in, each one inspiring varying degrees of assent or dissent, adding to the roaring babble of a talk-obsessed era. But it is amazing how that saint's name jumps out like a victorious young athlete sprinting across the finishing line, still. The images of age and agony, and all the chatter, cannot dim the light he brought, and continues to bring.

It seemed wise to come a few minutes earlier to 10 o'clock Mass at the Cathdedral of St. Matthew, on the notion that this Sunday would be much like Easter, bringing people who do not regularly attend. As that is normally the Latin Mass, it seemed unlikely to be the main draw, but there would be a larger number than usual.

Should have checked the archdiocesan website. The Cardinal apparently felt that it was the most convenenient time for him to celebrate at his own See and catch the plane to Rome, where he will govern the Church along with his 116 red-hatted fellows for the next two or three weeks. Gone was the Latin, in were the TV news crews--as the young hero of Terminator II answered when asked how many police were outside, "All of them, I think." And so a certain pudgy balding English teacher had to stand. Actually, he had a seat, but could not see the altar or the bishop's throne, so he finally took a corner and stood there. The music was glorious as always, the homily fitting, the general air solemn but joyous, which was also fitting. As Cardinal McCarrick is very active in Rome already and has such a direct role to play in the future of the Church, events far away seemed much nearer than TV can bring them.

Lots of young folks, as always, which calls to mind a humorous note of the kind that Karol Wojtyla dearly loved: the ones provided by kids.

A Mind That Suits has a new favorite barkeep, occupying the space once held by young friend Joe, who has gone on to a career in broadcasting. Only young friend Sean is really young, as Maryland law allows underage bartenders and Sean is a college freshman, having only recently arrived at 19. He is also Catholic. "It's strange to think the Pope is dead," he offered. "I guess he's the only Pope you've ever known," offered a certain pudgy, balding English teacher, "When you were born, he had been Pope for 7 years." "Really?"

Ah, youth.

Which calls to mind a image that has formed in the mind the last few days: Karol Wojtyla's first reward is to ski down the slopes of Paradise, with the souls of all the children who came before him gleefully racing behind him. RIP.

::: posted by A Mind That Suits at 7:21 PM


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What doesn't kill me, makes me laugh... usually.