black smoke
Apr. 18th, 2005 09:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Jubilation gives way to resignation as tens of thousands wait for new pope.
One of my early childhood memories is the election of the Pope. We were in our living room in Casablanca, and my grandmother was visiting us. We were listening to the Spanish station on the radio, and somebody had explained to me about the white smoke/black smoke thing. I would've been... six? Seven? About Daniel's age, anyway. And the radio said "White smoke!" and my grandmother smiled and got tears in her eyes and said "habemos Papa" - or it could have been habemus, I don't really know - and there were happy hugs all around. Which is stange, because my nuclear family was atheist, and as far as I know my grandmother wasn't particularly devout either, but it was still a wonderful thing that the Church had a father again. And it was a father, to me. The Spanish word for Pope is Papa, accented on the first syllable instead of the second, but that accent is the only difference between "Pope" and "Father".
It's odd that I don't know if that was John Paul I or John Paul II any more. I'm pretty sure that it was John Paul I, because we heard that he'd come out to the balcony laughing. And it was an incredibly endearing thing, that the father of an institution as monolithic, dreadfully serious, and tradition-bound as Catholicism, should first approach his children with laughter.
I remember when John Paul I died, and I remember the shock when the next pope was not an Italian, for the first time in... ever, really. And how incredibly endearing it was that he took for his name not just John for Blessed John XXIII, nor Paul for the Paul VI, but John Paul II for both of them and for the pope who had greeted his people laughing, but led them for such a short while.
I wish I could ask my mom about that. I was really small, and don't remember all the details. And I think there were other people there, but I only remember my mother and grandmother and my nanny, and my mother and grandmother are both gone and my nanny went back to Chile a short while after that. And if my father was there, that's still no good in terms of remembering it, because he doesn't talk to me.
I love history. But I'm kinda historyless, myself. No parents left to talk to about my childhood, no siblings, nobody around who even speaks the language I spoke as a child. I realized the other day that I hadn't spoken Spanish in months.
Well. I'll keep an eye on the smoke tomorrow, and if it's white, I'll toast lj and say "habemus Papam." And hope that the next Pope has the deep faith, conviction and strength of John Paul II, the courage to face modern times and change of John XXIII, and the humour and humility of John Paul I.
One of my early childhood memories is the election of the Pope. We were in our living room in Casablanca, and my grandmother was visiting us. We were listening to the Spanish station on the radio, and somebody had explained to me about the white smoke/black smoke thing. I would've been... six? Seven? About Daniel's age, anyway. And the radio said "White smoke!" and my grandmother smiled and got tears in her eyes and said "habemos Papa" - or it could have been habemus, I don't really know - and there were happy hugs all around. Which is stange, because my nuclear family was atheist, and as far as I know my grandmother wasn't particularly devout either, but it was still a wonderful thing that the Church had a father again. And it was a father, to me. The Spanish word for Pope is Papa, accented on the first syllable instead of the second, but that accent is the only difference between "Pope" and "Father".
It's odd that I don't know if that was John Paul I or John Paul II any more. I'm pretty sure that it was John Paul I, because we heard that he'd come out to the balcony laughing. And it was an incredibly endearing thing, that the father of an institution as monolithic, dreadfully serious, and tradition-bound as Catholicism, should first approach his children with laughter.
I remember when John Paul I died, and I remember the shock when the next pope was not an Italian, for the first time in... ever, really. And how incredibly endearing it was that he took for his name not just John for Blessed John XXIII, nor Paul for the Paul VI, but John Paul II for both of them and for the pope who had greeted his people laughing, but led them for such a short while.
I wish I could ask my mom about that. I was really small, and don't remember all the details. And I think there were other people there, but I only remember my mother and grandmother and my nanny, and my mother and grandmother are both gone and my nanny went back to Chile a short while after that. And if my father was there, that's still no good in terms of remembering it, because he doesn't talk to me.
I love history. But I'm kinda historyless, myself. No parents left to talk to about my childhood, no siblings, nobody around who even speaks the language I spoke as a child. I realized the other day that I hadn't spoken Spanish in months.
Well. I'll keep an eye on the smoke tomorrow, and if it's white, I'll toast lj and say "habemus Papam." And hope that the next Pope has the deep faith, conviction and strength of John Paul II, the courage to face modern times and change of John XXIII, and the humour and humility of John Paul I.
no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 02:09 am (UTC)I remember that too - but I was 21 when JPI was elected. He seemed so happy. Rumor had it that he was forward-thinking, that maybe women's orders would be restored to something like the sort of importance they had in the Middle Ages - without the bad side effects. This was a time when I was really, really trying to examine my faith, and see where I fit in. Sit down. I was honestly contemplating joining an order. A cloistered order, if I could find one to take me. But that's a story for another time. I remember him laughing, too, and thinking it was a good sign.
When he died suddenly, I was surprised but - not surprised, if that makes sense. He was an old man. I didn't hear the conspiracy theories until later. I'm intrigued. And not surprised if it turns out to be true. The Medici legacy hasn't left those walls.
I had a lot of hope for JPII, in the early days. He was young (okay, compared to the usual pope-types), he seemed so *excited* about all of this. In spite of the fact that I think he was a complete bonehead about some things, I had nothing against the man personally - he was a product of his times. But the next one won't have that excuse.
The SND who counseled with me about joining an order thought I might make a good nun because I had "such a strong will and great passion". Interesting thought, that.
no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 11:53 am (UTC)::faints::
no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 12:58 pm (UTC)::faints next to you::
no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 05:47 pm (UTC)Hey, my aunt said it could have happened. I'm not so sure, but it really, honest to deity, was something I looked at long and hard. I'm not an atheist, nor am I particularly irreverent (except with idiots of any denomination, especially Pagans because they have no damn excuse). Being cloistered requires a skill set most people don't ever think of. I'd say that I fall into that category and have those abilities, but I *do* have the whole sin of pride thing practically encoded into my DNA... And those skills do transfer to other areas of ones' life.
That's one - humility. Others are discipline, passion, will, perserverence. Check, I think. Maybe. On a good day.
On the other hand, I was probably looking into joining an order for the wrong reasons. I didn't like the outside world, or rather, it didn't seem to like me. I thought I could expiate whatever I'd done to feel as bad as I did by going that route. Well, that, and I was hoping to be able to 'serve' by what I did best at that point - embroider. I could have done some pretty cool ecclesiastical things - perhaps by now they would have made it into some very high places. And the whole thought of a life of meditation, work, and embroidery in a place where I would be welcome was very, very seductive.
Like I said, it's a long story, a path I didn't take. But if I had, you might be calling me Mother Abbess. ;)
JP 1 & 2
Date: 2005-04-19 02:23 am (UTC)As for the conspiracy, Godfather III is based on those tales. Not that it's a great movie by any stretch but the opera sequences are fun.