Once a Catholic, Always a Catholic

I have not written on the death of Pope John Paul II because there really hasn’t been anything for me to say.  Like many, I think that he was at heart a sincere and honest man who celebrated his faith as best he could.  There were areas where he was much too rigid for my taste, and it is the rigidity of the Church that helps to alienate me from it.  I do think he was, in the end, a pretty good guy who tried to do good.  Like someone said earlier this week, though, I hope he’s in Heaven going "D’oh!" as God explains to him that women in the Church, contraception, homosexuality and the prevention of the spread of AIDS are a-okay by Him/Her.  I just wouldn’t get a God who doesn’t love all His/Her creatures and wants the best for their health and spiritual sanity, so I prefer to think that God is a benevolent spirit who recognizes the fallacies of man made religion.

However, when watching a recap of the funeral this morning, I have to admit that it was extremely poignant when the Pope’s pallbearers turned the casket one last time towards the crowd gathered in St. Peter’s Square.  The people there waved and cheered with a kind of faith that nearly moved me to tears (I say nearly – something else earlier this week moved me to furious tears, I’ve met my quota for the month of April).  But it was very touching, seeing those people say goodbye one last time to the man who was their spiritual leader.  The pallbearers then turned the casket around once more and marched into St. Peter’s Basilica.  It was a deafening kind of finality that resounded in my mind like one huge boom as the Litany of the Saints continued unabated.  The cheering and clapping was sad, yes, but there was joy at the recognition that the Pope was being properly laid to rest.

The pageantry, the majesty, the pure beauty of the Catholic sacraments, of Catholic ceremony, is simply unrivaled by any other form of Christianity.  As much as the Church pisses me off, it is absolutely beautiful.  There’s just no doubt about that.  Steeped in medieval and Renaissance history as I am, it hits me that much more strongly, the sense of tradition and solemnity.  I’m not discounting the negative aspects of the Church at all, but you have to admit: It’s purty.

And, in an odd way, it makes you want to be a better person.  It makes you want to earn that beauty.  Not by following it all strictly, but by being good to your fellow human beings.  It makes you want to go to confession and receive communion.  At least, in my case it does.  I’ve been pondering confession for more than a month now because I have been stuck in a rut emotionally.  I’ve been pretty angry and closed off and kicking walls and I’m keeping it all to myself because I don’t want to bug anyone with it.  I’ve been trained not to – remember, I’m the "Hey, that’s too bad, but forget about you, let’s talk about me!  Again!" friend.  But hey, my local priest would be more than happy to hear my confession and offer me a few Hail Marys, a few Our Fathers.  Said in Spanish, of course, since I have no idea how to say it all in English (and it just doesn’t sound as magical, to be honest).

So what would I say in my case?  It’d go: "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.  It’s been 14 years since my last confession and BOY, HAVE I SINNED.  BIG TIME.  In my mind, heart and in my daily interactions with others.  SI-INNED."

And the priest would go: "All right, all right.  Stop being so dramatic, just shoot."

The final farewell of John Paul II, though, has stimulated my intellectual curiosity.  As the Pope now rests in the grotto, I turn my eye to the conclave set to begin April 18.  I am in no way privy, and would never be privy, to what’s going to go on while the cardinals get set to elect a new pope.  But I am itching to see the finale, to see the white smoke arise from a Vatican chimney.  I want to see the introduction of a new pope ("Habemus Papam"), I want to see him address the masses from the main balcony at St. Peter’s Basilica.  I want to know if he’ll be a charming man like John Paul II was; I want to see history in the making.

John Paul II was elected a scant five months after I made my entrance into this world; I want to see what kind of man is chosen to lead the Church after such a momentous reign, what kind of man is chosen to be the second pope I’ve ever known.  I want to see what new turn the history of the papacy takes.  It is a convoluted history, a complicated one.  It is sometimes shameful, horrendous and makes you want fold into a small ball.  It is sometimes glorious and kind and human.  We’ll see where the process that begins on April 18 leads.