Pope John Paul II Remembered

Parishioner Jennifer Cole has spent the last several years in Rome teaching, working with youth, and living literally a stone's throw from the Vatican. Over the past few weeks, she has kept an informal journal of "these grace-filled days" and has allowed it to be shared here on the website. In her own words:

"I do not present these to you as great writing, or claim to have special insights about all that is happening. It is simply one personal account of the experiences of the last few days. I share it only to give those of you who may not have been here a sense of what was going on. Even for me, these notes only scratch the surface of all that is going on."

	  April 2005
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Friday morning, April 1

Friends, it was such a surreal night. I was celebrating my birthday with a group of friends who all happen to be journalists...phones started ringing off the hook and, although hard news was slight, it just felt different. They all ran to work and I ran to the only place I knew to go: St. Peter's. I walked by the Santa Anna gates and saw a the head of the Swiss guard there talking with other plain clothes guards. I walked right up to them and started asking questions, but, of course, they couldn't tell me anything. I arrived in the square and there were about 50 others, a few police cars and a camera or two. This news was so fresh, most media outlets didn't even know about it yet. The mood was somber. There were prayers and milling around and everyone on their cell phones looking for info. When APtv came up with a camera and started asking questions, things were still so unclear. All I recall saying is that I love him and want to be here for him. That he has meant so much to the world and to me personally. The tears, as I know you will understand, were automatic and insuppressible. --Before long, the crowd at St. Peter's had grown to a few hundred...seemed like half were journalists (I was interviewed by a French paper and also by Bloomberg), lots more police and they closed all traffic around St. Pete's and on the Conciliazioni. The most serious news of the night was that he had rec'd last rites. That, and the fact that the Vatican WAS talking and that they WEREN'T taking him to the hospital all spelled a very serious situation. I spent a couple hours out there, but eventually cold, exhaustion and lack of real information brought me home. I fielded a few calls from friends and got a few hours of sleep.

The latest news this a.m. from the Vatican is that he had a heart attack last night and is gravely ill in other respects, but is conscious and tranquil. He apparently participated in Mass this morning. Let's continue to pray.

I know he's not gone yet, but it seems imminent. With that, I've decided I won't be getting on a plane to return to the US as planned until after the Conclave. It has been my heart's desire for so many years to be here for this moment. I consider it a great honor to be here to say goodbye to a man I love so deeply, to provide hospitality and support to those who will come to participate, to pray for our Church and to welcome the new Pope. Real life will have to wait a while longer.

I'm heading out to the piazza now.

With love and prayer,

Jen

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1am on Saturday, April 2

…a quick update. There isn’t anything I can tell you about the Pope’s condition that you probably haven’t already heard on the news. We all are waiting for the announcement. What I can share with you is just a bit of the experience of being here. I’ve used the word already, but surreal is the only way to describe it. There are thousands in piazza San Pietro. People who have come to pray and to pay respects and to observe and in general just to be part of this moment in history. At this point, after mid-night, pilgrims –by request of the Vatican-are holding a silent vigil, united in prayer and anticipation. It’s very chilly and there is a strong breeze pushing through the piazza. The streets near the Vatican are closed to traffic, there are Carabinieri standing around (ok, that’s not too unusual) and the blue lights on their cars silently spin giving the area just outside the piazza a disco-strobe effect. The media cameras (with their own bright lights) are EVERYWHERE. I must have had my photo taken –while praying—a hundred times today. No joke. Also, as I stood off to the side, multiple journalists approached me for interviews…BBC, NBC, CNN, Reuters, and number of Italian stations and even a Dutch station (who had the nerve to ask me why “this old man” is so important!). A US NEWS & WR reporter also spoke with me. –With all this media frenzy, one can’t help but see that this –among other things—is a very teachable moment. Perhaps an unparalleled moment for evangelization. I am sure you all are seeing this and experiencing this in various ways.

I was in the piazza for about 5 hours today. Took a short break to get some things done at home (I’m having to UNpack some things from boxes now that I’m staying an extra month or so) and then went back out for another 5 hours…time is simultaneously flying and standing still.

I’ve been home now for almost 40 minutes trying to get this note out. In that time, I have opened many emails from you (my friends abroad), including one with a Yahoo news story and photo that was take of me today. –Hope it comes through for you. Forgive me if I can’t respond to all your individual notes. I am so grateful to be here and to also be in touch with you…by phone, email and prayer.

Again, call anytime if you’d like to chat. I’m heading back out to the piazza now (past 1am).

Love and prayers,

Jen

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Saturday morning, April 2 – 6:40am – Rome

…spent the night in the piazza with a friend. There were thousands, then hundreds, then only a handful of us. There was praying and singing and wandering and crying and laughing. One of the saddest moments for me was when a large group started chanting the familiar “J P II We Love You” (but the Italian version) and I realized it would be one of the last times we would ever hear that. Who will the next Pope be and what will we chant for him? Can’t imagine anyone in his place.

Finally at 6am, we were frozen, exhausted and in need of coffee. So, a brief rest and then back out. I suppose at this hour if he has already passed, they will wait for a decent time to announce it.

Thanks to those of you who have called on the cell…sorry the connection isn’t always great. I am so grateful to be experiencing this first hand. I know you don’t need my little updates, but somehow I need to share them with you. Feel free to pass them along.

A presto,

Jen

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Sat, April 2 – 2:53pm – Rome

…since my last entry early this morning, not much has changed with the status of the Holy Father. The Vatican still reports that he is failing and that death is imminent. Most major organs are shutting down, but his big, beautiful heart keeps him with us. Apparently, he still experiences many moments aware of what is going on around him, including the celebration of Mass and receiving visitors around his bedside. He also understands that he is living his last moments on this earth. For those of us in the Square –much like all around the world—we are on a death watch. It continues to take on many facets. I have moments where I break down and want to hold on tight to the Pope and others where I am filled with peace for him and for the future of the Church. One moment we are praying, the next we are chatting about something totally unrelated to this experience all together. –It seems that’s the case for others as well.

When I went back out this morning after my “coffee break”, my friend and I realized we were just in time for the early morning Masses at the various altars of St. Peter’s. For those who have never experienced it (and I know many of you have) it is probably the most beautiful time to be in the Basilica. The light streams softly in through the colored glass and quite abounds as there are only a relative handful of pilgrims inside the immense –yet intimate- church. Multiple Masses are quietly being said for small groups in all the worlds languages. In the upper Basilica and in the crypt below, you hear soft chants, amens and alleluias.

My friend and I “happened” upon Mass in English at the first altar on the left after entering St. Peter’s. After the celebration of Mass, which I (and others) wept through, we slowly passed by the great statues and intricate mosaics to the main altar under which the bones of St. Peter are encased. A few moments in prayer there, naturally led us down to the crypt to be closer to his relics. I’ve done this many times before, but it took on special meaning today. We walked among the tombs of other Popes…as if there could have ever been or could ever be a Pope other than John Paul II. Did they do as much for the Church? Did they profoundly and personally impact lives of simple people like me? Were they as loved? Hard to believe it could be true, and yet I know it must be. I found myself completely overwhelmed by the history and tradition and richness of our Church. Struggling for gasps of air between my quiet sobs, I could only utter prayers of thanksgiving for being fortunate enough to be part of this Church, this city and this moment in time. I am so very grateful.

Exiting the Basilica, with the light of day still soft, but strong, I took in the long scene of the square and the Via Conciliazioni. People were filing in again with hope of news. The media cameras were up and running. Around Vatican City it was clear that “the show must go on”. A nun opened the Vatican gift shop and was sweeping the dust away from the entrance, Vatican guards were assuming their positions and beginning to direct the ever-increasing visitors, the “San Pietrini” (workmen of St. Peter’s) were busily disassembling part of the large outdoor altar.

My friend and I walked in silence to the columns where the sun was shining and took rest on the steps. At dawn, the police made everyone stand up (no sitting aloud during the day, for some reason). Though the sun was out, it was a chilly morning with an unfriendly breeze still moving through the square. For those of us who spent the night here, the signs of exhaustion and fatigue were becoming more evident. The will to hold out a just a few more minutes, motivated by the fear of missing the moment of announcement, is powerfully strong, but at about 10:30am I gave in to my need for sleep. I had had only about 3 or 4 hours in the last 48.

I slept for a couple hours –too tired and anxious and sunburned to sleep more-- and had a long hot shower, a little food and am feeling a bit better. A fellow “all-nighter” is crashed in my guest room. BBC World is my window the square for the moment, but I’m gearing up to go back out soon. I’ve heard that the last Vatican announcement said the Pope could hear the young people singing in the Square in the late night/early morning hours and sent a special greeting to them. Can’t claim to be a “young person” anymore, but I did do a bit of singing and chanting last night and so am especially excited to hear this news.

…that’s probably enough for now. Clearly, these emails have become my personal journal. Not being able to trust my own poor memory, this is a way for me capture the moment for future reflection, to live it more fully in the present and to share it with those united in faith and friendship.

Thanks to those who have called or emailed to express prayers and solidarity. I carry you with me! I can’t return most emails anytime soon…I’m basically on a “read-only” basis, with these little journal entries as responses. I hope you understand. Pace e bene da Roma

Jen

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Sunday, April 3, 2005 – 1:35pm – Rome- The Day without a Pope

He is gone. At 9:37 last night (April 2) John Paul’s spirit travelled from this world to the next. The emotions and thoughts are simply overwhelming. It all seems utterly unreal.

To try and pick up where I last left off, I returned to St. Peter’s square last night sometime before 7pm. I was home, keeping watch with BBC World, awaiting the next Vatican briefing which kept being delayed. The tv images showed a packed square. Leaning out my living room window towards Piazza Risorgimento confirmed that thousands more were streaming in.

So I went out. Wearing sweats and tennis shoes, armed with my rosary and cell phone, I walked the long block from my apartment into the piazza. I recall being very impressed with how the crowds were behaving…seems like a given that people going to St. Peter’s would be courteous to each other, but I’ve learned otherwise from past events. This time was really different. We all filed in, shoulder to shoulder, but there was no pushing or line jumping (All the more amazing given that the bulk of the pilgrims up to this point have been Italian!).

At 7pm it was standing room only (we weren’t allowed to sit anyway) with a little bit of room to walk and manoeuvre through the crowds. As the night progressed, that would become impossible.

A friend, John, and I found a place between the right fountain and the obelisk, almost directly in line with the Bronze Doors…we could see the big screen tv, and of course, a view of the window.

Throughout this whole thing, the window has been the focus of attention. We watched longingly for the familiar sight of his face in the window, which we knew would never come again. We watched the lights, wondering if they would turn off at the moment of his death. We spoke of how impossible it will be to ever look at those windows again…that part of the Vatican property, the current Papal Palace, will forever be associated with this Pope. I don’t know how it works, but certainly the next Pope will have to have a different room. We think they’ll have to build something new on the opposite side of the piazza to distract us from thinking of JPII!)

The scheduled Rosary (the Joyful Mysteries) began at 9pm. Hundreds of thousands of us praying in unison…though not all in same language.

During the rosary the lights in the windows just left of the Pope’s rooms flicked on an off. I happened to catch it and turned to my friends to get their reaction. Most didn’t see it or didn’t think it was necessarily of any significance. It wasn’t until well after the announcement that we went back to that moment and wondered if it could have been 9:37pm. Seems to fit, but I still haven’t heard anyone on tv talk about it.

After the rosary and other prayers, a final blessing was given and we were invited to go home to continue our prayers or to stay in the piazza which would be open all night for silent prayer. At mid-night, they announced, there would be another short prayer for the Pope. Microphones and big screens were turned off. People were still very quite, but starting to move just a bit.

Moments later, the microphones were turned back on. The voice said, in Italian, we will continue now to pray for the Pope. (That began what would be a couple minutes of confusion.) Simultaneously, my friend was on his cell with a media outlet, who was reporting JPII’s death. He believed the report, but the rest of us –having just been through a false alarm about this time the night before- were skeptical. I called my “source” – my friend Shannon Allen (wife of top Vatican reporter, John Allen). Shannon began to say that it wasn’t true, but mid sentence got the report herself that, in fact, the Pope had died at 9:37pm. It was about 9:50pm. My friend was already on his knees in tears, and I joined him moments later. Those around us were staring –rightly so—and we told them what we heard. It was at this moment that the Bishop leading the prayers, made the announcement. The entire piazza (hundreds of thousands) let out a gasp and voluntarily dropped to their knees in prayer. All eyes focused on the window.

It just didn’t seem possible. This moment we never wanted, but had been waiting for so long had finally come. It just couldn’t be true that he would never be with us again….that we would never see his beautiful face or hear his voice or receive his blessing again. Couldn’t we see you just one more time?

We sobbed and held each other and prayed.

A friend noted that it was Saturday, always a day dedicated to Our Lady, in Easter Week, on the Vigil of the Feast of Divine Mercy. Could it be any more rich with meaning? As Church, we had just experienced Holy Week, meditating on the suffering and death of Jesus…and watched John Paul suffer his own final cross. Now we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus, and no one doubted for a second that John Paul passed directly from this life into the fullness of the next…his own sort of resurrection. We cried in thanksgiving that he was now free from the body that gave him so much trouble in the last years.

We cried in joy thinking of all those who waited at the gates of St. Peter to welcome him into the heavenly kingdom…not just the all normal angels and Saints, but all those he personally knew and loved and served and saved. His own family, the poor, the unborn, those he elevated to Sainthood…so many. So many. Imagine how happy they were to have him there…perhaps as sad as we are to have to let him go. I know death is the beginning of new life. It’s what I told most reporters that I had the chance to speak to…knowing he is in heaven is a great joy. But, the sadness in not having him here is painful.

Knowing that I can talk to him directly now is fantastic…the two times I met him in person I told him I loved him, but now I get to tell him again and I think he’ll really get it.

His love for us continues. His prayer and service to us continues. I think, being that much closer to Jesus now, he will be even more effective. That night in the piazza, after the announcement, we continued in prayer with the Glorious mysteries of the Rosary, led by a Bishop (don’t even know who it was!). A final blessing was given and we were bid good night, but no one seemed to leave the piazza. In fact, no one even moved or spoke for a very long time. I’ve never heard silence like this.

The presiding Bishop reminded us that there would still be a midnight prayer service.

(continued this journal Sunday at midnight)

…all of that was almost 24 hours ago, and already I am beginning to forget the sequence of events and particular smaller, but special moments. There are just SO many things happening, it’s difficult to take it all in.

At this point, as I recall last night, there are a few things that remain strongly: the tears of individuals; the solidarity the group (those present and even those around the world) united in love and grief; the applause that went on and on and on for our beloved Papa.

Eventually, people began to move around and talk and console each other. Everyone has a special story that involves John Paul II, and this was the time to tell it. I’m sure this is the same all over the world. It seems like a very natural thing to do…just part of the grieving process. We tell the stories to express our love and to keep the memory alive.

During the midnight prayer service, the crowd was less, but the piazza was still quite full. It was a more casual service. At one point the Bishop (I really need to find out who he was!) suggested we give our beloved Pope a round of applause. Everyone turned towards the window and clapped and cheered…it went on for a good 10 minutes. We just didn’t want to stop.

My friends (Sheena, John, Catherine, Mircol) and I needed just one more. We belted out the first lines of the familiar “Giovanni Paolo” clap/chant (you know the one) and the whole piazza joined in! That was the first one since before the announcement of his death.

The energy was so powerful and positive and charged with love, despite the aching and suffering we were all experiencing.

I didn’t want to leave him, but I was utterly exhausted (had about 4 hours of sleep in 3 days), had aching body parts, hunger and thirst. Sometime after 2a.m. I had reached my limit.

I desperately wanted to stay in the piazza. I felt that leaving meant I was abandoning him. I knew he was up there in his room and if I left he might not be there when I returned. –I knew he wouldn’t.

It took a great act of the will to tear myself away and march through the piazza towards home. I was thankful to have a friend, Anna , there to hold on to. The closer I got to the window, the more the tears came. I couldn’t stop looking at it, but eventually lost sight of it as I entered under the columns. That was my moment of good-bye.

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Monday, April 4, 2005

…spent most of the day yesterday recovering from lack of sleep. Watched the Mass on BBC, chatted with some friends on the phone, had another stop by. I didn’t go back into the piazza until about 5:45 pm, on my way to Mass at San Giovanni (with Fr. Thomas). Tons of people out there. The tone was different than the last few days. Seemed lighter, more festive, more “touristy” . I didn’t like it.

There were a few groups scattered around, praying in circles. The Poles are still in heavy mourning. We’ve all lost a father, but they have also lost a son.

The four lamp posts in the central area of the square have become little monuments or shrines. People are leaving flowers, candles, notes, photos…many from children. It’s very sweet. One picture by a child saw the Pope at the window, with people below. The bubble from the Pope (in the shape of a heart) said “The Pope loves the youth”. Each of the 6 or 7 people below each had a bubble that said “clap, clap”. --

Went through the piazza again at about 11pm last night. Some prayer, but lots of milling about and chatting. It’s starting to feel more like a place to hang out, rather than a place to mourn.

--

Today, we are waiting for the Cardinals to finish their meeting and announce when the funeral will be.

Later his body will be moved from the Sala Clemintina (I met him there once!) to the Basilica. People have already begun to line up. –Last night, streets were being closed off to make a path for people to line up. They will have us wind through some of the neighborhoods near the Vatican to wait to get in to view his body. –I think I’ll go out at 4am or so tonight…perhaps the lines will be less then?

Today, I need to do some things like go to the market. Have been eating nothing but cheese and crackers for days. Susan Gibbs arrives today and will staying with me…I’m already getting calls from local Washington media looking for her. –Though I’m not working this event, I suspect things will be getting quite busy. It will be an interesting twist to the experience.

I’ve also opened my place to friends and friends of friends who need a place to come and rest a bit. I know what it’s like to need a clean bathroom and comfortable place to sit in Rome. I’m so grateful to be here, in my home of the last 5 years, with a front row seat to all this activity. It is such an immense blessing. I have thought for years about being here for this and providing just a bit of hospitality to weary pilgrims. –John Kunz and I are going to throw a wake after the funeral…it’s bound to be big.

When all this started last Thursday night (my birthday), I was 12 days from moving. Most of my belongings are boxed up. The only things I unpacked are the two photos of my audiences with the Pope…have a candle burning during these 9 official days of mourning. Getting to be here is an answer to prayer and I am so very grateful.

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Thursday, April 7, 2005 10am or so

In terms of reporting to friends back home, there is little now that I can say that could add any new information to what is being reported in the media.

The line closed at 10pm last night. They did let some through after that, but not many. Hundreds of thousands are now waiting with the hope that the authorities will reopen the line. They are mostly Poles now…it’s especially sad that they won’t be able to get in after such a long journey. Of all those I have witnessed, they are truly the most prayerful. There is no sense of curiosity among them, only love for Karol, their son.

I had a little breakdown last night at about 8:30pm. The closer it came to the 10pm line closing deadline, the more anxiety and guilt I felt about not getting in it. –It was strange, I knew I wasn’t being “called” to go. I knew I had already said my good-bye to JPII. I was just feeling like the worst Catholic in the world for not going. So many people felt motivated to do it, but I just didn’t for some strange reason.

Thankfully a couple friends –good Catholics-- answered there phones and brought me some relief. Both said essentially the same thing: that anxiety is not from God. If God wanted me to make that particular sacrifice or have that particular experience (either for myself or on behalf of others) I would have known it. I would have felt called to do it and would have felt the conviction and peace that always goes with that calling. Of course, I know that is right, but I needed to hear it and I did feel a bit better.

So, instead of sitting at home watching the news talk about the line I wasn’t in, I traversed the city to Santa Maria Maggiore and prayed in that beautiful Basilica. It was the first time I went out of my neighborhood in almost a week. Cardinal Law has opened the Basilica during the night for Eucharistic Adoration and has called on English speakers (among others) to come and pray.

I brought with me all the prayer intentions that I’ve been given, all that are on my heart and, in a special way, prayed for all those in line. –My friends Loraine, Claudia, Josie and Laurie were all there and I thought I could at least offer them spiritual strength along with a few phone calls and text messages offering support. Found out this morning –at various early hours—that they all made it! It took between 12 – 14 hours. You go girls! You are heroes.

While in Adoration last night, my cell phone rang. Of course, I had turned off my phone when first coming into church, but for some reason turned it back on after I had been inside for a while. I put the ringer on silent and put it in my pocket. Sure enough, it rang. It was a number I didn’t recognize and I decided to answer it…not something I usually do while in church! Turned out to be a friend who I haven’t spoken with in months who was calling from The Line. Shelagh and her boyfriend Jeff had been in line since 7am, but at 10pm still hadn’t made it inside. They either had to leave the line to make their train back to Santa Marinella (a beach community about 50 minutes by train outside of Rome) or to stay in line, see the Pope but then have no where to stay for the night when finished. –Of course, I was thrilled they called and happily told them they had a place for the night. –I was so grateful to have the space to share. It occurred to me later that had I also been in line, I would not have been able to help them out…made me feel better about the whole line thing. –It would take them another 4 hours to finally get to my place…in all, a 14 hour pilgrimage (not including the hour it took them to get into Rome that morning).

They were sore and exhausted and hungry, but so happy and peaceful! They said there were many moments when it just didn’t seem possible to go on, but after having invested so many hours, they found a way to tough it out just a bit longer. They said the crowd was so tight that there was almost always someone pressed up against you. Occasionally there would be room to crouch down and stretch the knees and back. Thankfully, they got into the Basilica before the 3 hour maintenance closing (2 – 5am) …I had other friends who weren’t so fortunate.

Once inside and in front of the Pope they both had their moment. The tears came easily as prayers of love and thanksgiving were offered. Both said it was all well worth it. They are rock stars in my book…again, total heroes! It was a blessing and grace to have them here at my home after having just been through that experience.

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Thursday, April 7, 2005 – 7:41pm

…this is a quick one directed to friends in DC and NY. I did a sound bite for Fox 5 in DC that they said would air tonight on the 5pm news…and maybe later broadcasts? –It’s about the chaos in the area. Nothing big, but may be fun non-the-less.

I then also spent quite a bit of time with the reporter from the Fox affiliate in NYC…Jodi Applegate. Not sure at all what will air or when, but I believe she hosts a morning show.

I’ve got a big day to tell you all about, but can’t write it up at the moment.

Believe me when I tell you that GRACE abounds here these days.

Prayers from a very grateful RC girl,

Jen

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The Week of April 11

Dear friends (and friends of friends!),

I haven’t written in my Papal experience journal in a week. Thankfully, there was a lull in activity around here which allowed for rest and some normalcy.

The big event last week was seeing the grave of John Paul II in the crypt of St. Peter’s Basilica. The lines on that first day when the crypt was open to the public was long, but I’ve learned my lesson…do the line now, not later! So a friend visiting from the States and I went to pay our respects. I hadn’t been in the crypt since the morning the Pope died. The guards kept the line moving, so all you could really do was walk by. Some took photos, some tried to stop and pray. As I approached the tomb, I found the sadness of the last days welling up again. Seeing the white marble, almost coffin-shaped, floor stone with his name on it (in Latin) added a final twist of the knife in my heart. A twist that was necessary, as I sought a final good-bye.

His is the closest niche to the tomb of St. Peter. The line led us to the foot of this memorial where we were allowed to stop and pray a bit. It was a special moment, to be nestled between our first Pope and our last Pope, during this time with no Pope.

The line exited out of a side door of the Basilica, very close to the Scavi office. Although my friend had lived in Rome for many years, he had never been on this most exceptional tour of the under ground excavations (“scavi”) of the necropolis directly under the Basilica. Over 60 years ago the excavations began and the bones of St. Peter were found buried directly under the main altar of the current Basilica. (Between the bones and the current Basilica is Constantine’s Basilica).

Normally -but especially during the high tourist season- getting tickets for the Scavi tour can be tough. They only let 150 people per day pass through with special guides. Many have tried to reserve tickets months in advance and still can’t get in. –That day, as an afterthought, we walked into the reservations office and asked if it was possible to get a ticket sometime in the next few weeks. The man working the desk –in typical Italian fashion, using overly dramatic hand gestures, facial expressions and head movements, --began to tell us that people wait months for this tour. “But, what language do you want?”, he asked. “English”, I replied. “Just one ticket for my friend”. “Today you are very, very fortunate. There is an English tour leaving in 3 minutes and there is space for you both.” Of course, I had to ask again to be sure I understood, but 3 minutes later we were being led back into the Basilica with 4 other people.

Our tour guide, a Polish woman, began by telling us this was a very special tour because it was the first one since the Pope had died.

She gave us a mix of historical, archaeological and spiritual information as we descended centuries underground and toured first the old city of the dead. Eventually, we would make our way upwards to the level where the bones were found and can be seen today. –It’s always a fascinating tour, but it was especially moving to be so close to St. Peter’s remains during this time. I lingered just a moment alone in the room where the remains are best seen and prayed with fervor for the Cardinals and the next Pope.

As we were finishing the tour and being led through ornately painted underground hallways, our guide had us stop at small chapel dedicated to Our Lady of Czestochowa. There, a famous icon hangs above the altar in honor this Polish patron. Everything Polish catches your attention these days, but our guide directed us to notice the crown of gold that was placed on the head of the image. She said the last official act of John Paul had been to bless that crown, on April 1, while he was dying. It was installed on the morning he died, April 2, during Mass. (That also happened to be the morning I was in the crypt.)

As we exited the gated hallway, we were face-to-face with the line of people filing by the tomb of JPII. The guards who were moving people along, noticed us coming out and let us cross the line to stand in a small roped off area across from the tomb. There, we were able to stand and watch and pray. Yet, another blessing of these special days.

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April 19 –10am)

--Now (finally!) we are up to my most recent experience in the Piazza last night. Obviously, the biggest moment came when the smoke finally went up…but what made it an unbelievably electric experience was that we thought it was white smoke!

It began for me at about 6:30pm when I went out to the Piazza. It was a beautiful, if chilly evening. A typical Roman sky (dramatic, clear blue, clouds passing quickly overhead) served as backdrop to the massive dome as well as the little chimney poking out of the Cappella Sistina. Many people had gathered (couple thousand, perhaps?) and were either milling about or had a found a spot to sit or a barrier to lean on…all bodies oriented towards the chimney. We were expecting smoke at 7pm, but it was after 8 now and nothing. As the sun went down, the colors in the sky made the whole scene more beautiful, but also became much colder. The anticipation was positive, but there were some indications of frustration with the Cardinals as we were kept waiting. Some people who arrived before I did, finally gave up. (side note: when JPII was dying, I had almost no realization of time or cold or hunger or other discomforts…but don’t worry. I snapped out of it and am back to normal!)

Finally a puff came out. No one was expecting white smoke, so when the first greyish puff came out, we were excited to see it, but understood that there was not yet a Pope. But, the next puff came out much lighter than the first and the next after that was white! People jumped to their feet! Those in back, ran forward towards the Basilica which one friend described as “very frightening”. I was on the phone with one my former students, Bibi, and began screaming along with everyone else “it’s white!”. “Fume bianco!” –It was unbelievable! One vote and we have a Pope! Go Holy Spirit, go! So much confusion and excitement in that one moment! I remembered that the bells were supposed to ring as well when we have a Pope…just as I turned to look at them for any sign of movement, the now billowing smoke was dark. The disappointment started to settle in even before we fully believed the smoke wasn’t white. People were all chatting with those around them confirming what they saw, asking what happened, sharing how jolting the experience was. It took a couple hours to come down…can’t really explain how electric it was. It was the very first moment that I realized I could get excited about a new Pope. Went for pizza at L’Archetto with Susan and Renata after to process the whole thing.

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(2:22pm)

Went out to the piazza for the noon smoke watch. Having learned from last night, I planned to get there just before noon. And then, wouldn’t you know it, instead of being late the Cardinals were early! At about 11:50am, just after I reached my spot up front with friends, smoke began to puff out. –Again, an unclear and kind of crazy experience: first the smoke is slightly grey…then whiter…then dark. We all kept looking and verbally confirming the black smoke, recalling that the bells will go to take away any questions we might have. –Then at about 2 minutes to noon, the boom from the canon on Gianicolo hill was heard…most didn’t know what it was, so lots of heads were turning in search of answers. That confusion died down, but then the normal noon bells began to ring. A cheer went up from the area closest to the bells…the rest of us laughed a little at them…silly pilgrims, it’s only the noon bell going off. –But just in case, I looked back over at the smoke stack. It was puffing again…and it was light colored! A rush of people running back towards the front, cameras and news crews getting in position again…were the Cardinals telling us there were 2 votes? What’s going on? Do we have a Pope? Oh, wait, here come the big plumes again…it’s black. –Mamma mia. Che stress!

We found ourselves laughing about what must be going on in there: were the Cardinals having a little fun with us? Did they forget how to use the chimney? Did they accidentally bump into the bucket of dark chemicals and mix it with the white? Maybe it’s just an old chimney? Some think the Cardinals shouldn’t be allowed to play with matches. – But, come on, they had 26 years to make sure this worked correctly, so what’s the deal with mixed smoke signals??

The next vote should be around 5 or 5:30pm. If it’s negative, there won’t be any smoke. They will vote again later and send up smoke about 7pm. Of course, if it is white, they send it up right away.

So, now I’m on smoke watch. It is so different from the death watch of a couple weeks back. While I can see the smoke from my living room window, I really want to be in the piazza live for that moment…and then an hour or so later for “habemus Papam.” (“We have a Pope”)

Let’s keep praying for the Cardinals!

PAX,

Jen