As I sat
down on Wednesday to my computer, I thought of the conclave voting for a new
pope. I felt a rush to get out on the
web to see what was going on. Deep down,
I knew. Sure enough about five minutes
later, my husband called me to say the smoke was white. Our good computer broke the day before so,
yes, I was still trying to get on the Internet.
I bagged that task and went straight for the television to watch the
proceedings.
My first
thoughts were I should be taking notes to have for a write up for my blog. I realized a million people would be doing
the same thing and the social media world would be flooded with the story and
thoughts. How could I compare with all
of them? I can’t. What I can do is tell you my story of popes.
I became
Catholic at the age of 23 during the time of Pope John Paul II. I knew he was a respected leader throughout
the world and he led my new church, but other then that, I didn’t give him or
the position much thought. I also didn’t
think much of Bishops, Archbishops, or Cardinals. Speed up to his death, I was very sad. We lost a great world leader. I was more saddened for my husband who loved
the pope. He was stuck in Iraq and
wouldn’t be able to watch the selection of the new pope. I did watch, but it didn’t move me all that
much. In fact, I thought him a bit old
and distant. This time, I reacted much
differently.
Tears stung
my eyes from the time I received the call and even today I get goose bumps
about the event. I sat watching Fox News
waiting for our new papa. I was amazed
by the variety of flags in the middle of Saint Peter’s Square and smiled with
pride as I saw my beloved American flag.
The crowd sang together. I would
have loved to have been there. One
announcer said the feeling in the square was a precursor to heaven with all the
joyful celebration. When I heard that, I
realized my tears were tears of joy. I
felt joy!
As I
listened to the coverage, my heart swelled with love. The two announcers on Fox were also
Catholic. What fun to have them talking
about their faith. I was proud to be
living in a country where my fellow Catholics could share on national
television during Catholic/World history in the making. In fact, John commented that he had his
Rosary with him in the studio. Amen.
Then I
heard it. “Pope Francis.” Could it be?
Could the new pope be taking the name sake of one of my two favorite
saints: Saint Francis of Assisi or Saint Francis de Sales? I almost jumped for joy. Finally, they announced Cardinal Jorge Mario
Bergoglio from Argentina as the new pope.
I sat in anticipation. Some
commentators where speculating he would take the name of Pope Paul or
Benedict. “What about Pope Francis? I want Pope Francis!” The ticker across the scene finally read Pope
Francis I. At that moment, I knew he
would be my pope.
So, why did
this affect me so differently? I thought
about it the rest of the day. In the
evening I figured it out. In the last
six years, my strong faith has grown in leaps and bounds. I have been studying even harder. But even bigger than that, I have grown to
know our Bishop. I am sure he doesn’t
know me, but I have sat through many of his homilies and gotten to know him
through his words and his actions. He
blessed my husband before he left for Iraq.
He chatted with us at a function and as I got ready to leave I
spontaneously gave him a hug. (I still
don’t know if that was appropriate.) He
is a wonderful man.
Through the
radio, I have gotten to know Cardinal Timothy Dolan of New York (I started
listening to him when he was an Archbishop).
I told my husband I want to go on a pilgrimage to New York and attend
Mass with him. I want to meet him. When he speaks through the radio, I really
feel his sincerity and love. I also
enjoy his sense of humor. I really think
these two men who are larger then life have made me realize how the Pope can
still lead me even though many miles and an ocean are between us. And hey, taking the name Francis is some
amazing icing on the cake.
Of course,
I love the fact that he didn’t move into the Cardinal’s palace in
Argentina. I love that he cooked his own
meals, road the bus, and washed feet. I
cried as I added my blessing to that of all the world’s when he asked us for
our blessing. I knelt in front of my
television as he blessed me.
My biggest
dream is to travel to Italy to go to Mass at the Vatican, see the sights, and drive
up to Assisi and check out Francis’ digs.
During our countries time of financial uncertainty, my dream trip will
have to be put off a couple more years.
But I will work hard at grasping Pope Francis and Saint Francis of
Assisi’s humble attitude and patience.
Besides, I need to let the Holy Spirit decide when it is best for me to
fulfill this pilgrimage. And maybe in
the meantime, I will make if over to New York to see Cardinal Dolan.
So, I would
love to hear your thoughts about Pope Francis.
Blessings
to you all.
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