April 24, 2008

By Father John Geaney, C.S.P.

It is Wednesday. The day is absolutely gorgeous. The temperature is in the high sixties. There is an almost flawless sky and the green of spring is showing everywhere in Washington, DC. It is the second day of Pope Benedict XVI's visit to the United States.

I'm picking up my media credentials. The credentials let the Secret Service and the shepherds in the media room know that I am not a security risk. The media room is like many I helped set up on previous visits to the United States by Pope John Paul II. Then I was the media "advance" person for the Bishops of the United States.

Today, I'm reporting for The West Tennessee Catholic and therefore I'm media. I'm amazed by the changes.

In 1979 when John Paul II visited Boston, New York, Philadelphia and Washington, DC, one of my major tasks was finding enough typewriters to handle the needs of the press. I spent long hours with my friend Frank D'Agostino making sure there were enough telephones for the media people to make calls to their editors. We had to make sure there were places along the Pope's route at which film could be "dropped" so that people would be able to see the pictures taken in the next morning's newspaper. All of that has changed. Every media person today has a computer, a cell phone and many have digital cameras eliminating the need for typewriters, phones and "film drops." But the fascination with the Pope remains the same.

All over Washington I had people stop me in the street to ask simply, "Did you see the Pope today?" A yes answer brought ooohs and aaahs with regularity. Two men approached me at a subway stop. They had flown into Washington on a lark from Nebraska and wondered what their chances were of getting a ticket to the Mass.

I told them that I thought their chances were "zero." I have no idea whether they followed my advice on Thursday morning or not. On the basis of "one never knows," I urged them to give it a shot and see what they might find in the line of tickets at Nationals Park on Thursday.

Late in the day the Pope goes to the Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in the center of Brookland which is a section of Washington, DC. There will be a motorcade with the Pope in the Popemobile. He will travel slowly along Fourth Street, NE, and pull into the Shrine grounds in the bulletproof Mercedes Benz. I thought about the thousands of times I have walked that same route as a seminarian and later a priest for over thirty years. I lived at the Paulist College on Fourth street. The huge flower bed in front of the Shrine of the Immaculate Conception is loaded with yellow and white flowers, the papal colors.

Moving at a quick pace the Pope is inside the Shrine. He visits the Blessed Sacrament Chapel stops at the statue of the Virgin St. Angela Merici, a patroness of Germany. Suddenly he is with the Bishops in the Crypt Church, the applause surrounds him. They are waiting, anticipating, wondering. He urges them to be who they are: leaders. The questioners include the newest Bishop among them, Bishop J. Vann Johnston, formerly a priest of Knoxville in Tennessee. The Pope's answers to the questions are full of hope. He presents a gift to the Shrine of the Immaculate Conception _ golden roses that will never bloom and never die. Then he startles _ a chalice for the people of New Orleans so sorely distressed by Hurricane Katrina. Archbishop Hughes accepts the chalice on behalf of his people. It is a warm touching moment.

Thursday dawns with what seems even better weather than Wednesday. There is a lush, spring breeze in the air. The sky is cloudless. Thousands are making their way to Nationals Park. The subways are jammed. Collars and religious habits are everywhere. Young people are enthused; older people seem no less so. There is an excitement and sparkle in the air that is delicious; almost tactile.

Tons of media are watching as their equipment is sniffed by dogs; reporters, producers, editors, directors — all go through the magnetometers. There is an orderly but mad dash for the best places to catch the Pope with a camera or to listen to people describe their feelings with a microphone, or be part of the TV cameras that are beaming the moment all over the world via satellite.

The Mass begins. A Paulist seminarian lifts his hand and his voice pours through the huge speakers all around the stadium. Rev. Mr. Steven Bell, C.S.P., is projected on the huge jumbotron in the center of the park. A little spark of Paulist pride flashes through my mind and heart. Steven's image is quickly replaced as the TV cameras find Pope Benedict. The hymns, the songs, the prayers are all familiar. It is said that Archbishop Wuerhl wanted a Mass in which all the people could easily participate. He got his wish.

It's amazing to hear 47,000 people singing and praying together; to realize that the Lord's Prayer being sung is the same one we sing frequently at St. Augustine. The church is indeed universal.

The Pope's homily reminds the people that ours is a wonderful nation of amazing freedoms, even though native Americans and those who came as slaves from Africa did not always share in that freedom. He urges us all to live in hope; reminds the people to love their priests and to encourage them.

Communion comes quickly; more than 300 deacons and priests go to various places throughout the stands to distribute the Bread of Life. It is amazing how efficiently, carefully and respectfully it is all done.

And then it is over. The people erupt in applause as the Pope waves and blesses the crowd. He is gone. The memory will linger. He is gentler than was thought; encouraging to a fault; filled with a hope that he wants to share with all who come in touch with him. There will be more stops, more homilies, and more speeches. But the impression will remain the same.

Pope Benedict is the successor of Peter, and he brings us a deeper sense of our unity with him, and through him, of our unity with the Christ whose Resurrection we continue to celebrate each day.