We spent the morning and afternoon visiting the old Roman aqueducts, and then we had mass at 7 pm. We were told by Fr. Mark, our boss, to meet near the Obelisk of St. John Latern, the place where the Pope would be celebrating mass outside in honor of the feast day of the Body and Blood of Christ. He said that we would be with his brother priests, which we all assumed meant better seats than the general populace, but still miles away from the altar. Thus, I only wore a polo and dress pants. We get there, and Fr take us into St. John Lateran, through security, past 40 Cardinals, through the main doors of the church, where on the other side thousands of people are waiting, and sits us ten rows away from the altar. Then Pope Francis comes out of the main entrance and begins mass. Mind blown. Enjoy these photos:
At the end of Mass, Fr. Mark leads us, past the front of the altar to join the procession following the blessed Sacrament to St. Mary Major for adoration. When we passed the altar, Pope Francis was still standing behind it, watching the procession. I must admit, I lost it. I became an absolute tourist, and despite being five feet away from the man, and with him knowing I was there, I tried to take a photo. I felt bad about it, he felt bad about it, it was sacrilegious, but I couldn't help myself. To explain why, we're going to take a trip down memory lane.
When I was growing up, I believed in Santa. I believed in the Easter Bunny. I had a so so relationship with the tooth fairy (my teeth were only worth a quarter, kids at school were getting $100, I really didn't care whether she was real or not as long as she was short changing me). All of this went on until about fourth grade. The older kids would always start this fight around Christmas time, saying on the bus, in the hallways, at lunch, after school, that Santa wasn't real. My classmates eventually joined in, until I was that one kid who still believed. I waited for Santa to reward me with more presents for believing, but year in and year out the other kids got more and more stuff. I would get into heated arguments, with anyone and everyone, that Santa was too real and that they were all liars for not believing in him. This is called faith, and I believed in Santa, so much so that I was willing to risk humiliation for it. I remember Dad telling us one year that he had almost caught the Easter Bunny, sneaking out of our garage after dropping off the Easter buckets, and I used this as leverage against my classmates in arguments about the existence of Santa and the Easter Bunny. All of this changed in 4th grade. My parents sat Mark and I down, in their bedroom, and said, quite simply, that Santa wasn't real. Now this presented a dilema for me: either I go against my parents, or I believe them. I had learned at an early age to trust their judgement (still do, their wisdom has steered me this far, why should I doubt it?) and that what they said, be it in life, religion, the house, sports, media, politics, anything was law. I remember being really angry with them and it took me a couple years to really forgive them, not only for crushing my faith in Santa, but for allowing me to be humiliated by the other kids. Now you're asking yourself what this has to do with the Pope, and I get that. Santa is as real as Superman, and the Pope is a modern day Superman. Don't believe me? Let me break it down for you real quick.
The Pope's job description is simple: work until you die for your job. Give all of your time, money, health and anything else, for your job. And it's not a simple job. The man, is old. Old as in he had his retirement letters drafted (and priests retire in their 70s already) and ready to send off to Pope Benedict on a rainy day. He had a nice little retirement home that he was going to move into with all his priest buddies, and spend the rest of his days, reading, writing, meditating and other activities. Then Pope Benedict announced he was retiring, beating Francis to the punch. The conclave is called, and Francis (who had received the second most votes when Benedict was chosen) gets chosen to be the new Pope. He inherited a flock composed of nearly 1.2 billion sheep. These sheep will leave the flock over disagreement with the big issues (gay marriage, female priests etc.) and small issues (mass time change and poor homilies), while the other 5+ billion sheep in the world either feel indifferent to the Pope or hate him. You have to understand, these people are: more concerned with their big macs than loaves and fish, have scientists who can explain everything from the dawn of creation to modern day, can't sustain believe in a big guy who delivers presents, let alone some guy who rose from the dead, with parents who have never seen a tax collector, children who spend mass on their phones, and older people who come to mass, put in an hour, then get back in their granny mobiles and drive home. News flash folks: the church (at least in America) is dying!! Next time you're in mass, look around. In 10 years, how many of those people will still be alive? How about 20 years? The younger generation lacks faith, and with each passing generation, faith becomes a fashion statement and not a way of life. Enter this 70+ year old man, from South America, who speaks no English, and has little global experience.
One year later, and that little 70+ year old man is still killing it. Nuns love him, priests love him, children love him, and nonbelievers love him. Everywhere he goes, people take selfies, laugh with him, listen to him, and leave with joy in their hearts. He has stuck his golden cross in the ground and is prepared to give no more ground, but instead reclaim followers and bring the sheep back to the fold. He is loved, because he loves. People want to ask for proof of God, Francis is (one of) those proofs. He is God's shepard, and so far he's done a fine job. There's a priest at ND, who himself is working to bring people back to the church, and he prays every mass that Pope Francis lives to be 150, so that he can continue being the hero that the church needs. People against Catholicism say criticize Catholics for worshiping the Pope, but damn it all we all need a Superman to look up to sometimes. Francis is one of those figures, and the fourth grader in me wants to just jump and point and show all the disbelievers that God, and is exemplified by people like Pope Francis. Thus, when presented with an opportunity to take a photo, I did, and now I regret it as poor timing and inappropriate, but it was too much for me to handle.
I'm proud to be your father.
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