I'm a little late blogging on the Mass at St. Patrick's earlier today. Better late than never? I hope so. Three quick observations.
1. One thing that struck me from the "press box" (okay, the folding chairs in front of a side altar with an obstructed view of the main altar) was the number of vociferous, almost rowdy, rounds of applause and cheers that went up for the Pope. After all, this was a cathedral full of priests and nuns. I didn't count, but the communicants must have communicated their love for the Holy Father at least a dozen times. One warm welcome for the entrance and another at the departure wouldn't have made me think twice. But the repetition of the roars did.
I wondered how Pope Benedict felt about the adulation. Not to mention the noise level. He's famously attentive to the real presence of Christ in the Blessed Sacrament wherever it's reserved, and famously insistent on reverence in (or just before, or just after) the liturgy. He's careful to make sure people understand that the celebrant isn't the star; Christ is. Even when the celebrant is Christ's vicar.
Well, guess what? He handled the development very deftly indeed. No, not deftly. Pastorally. At the close of Mass, in an apparently impromptu statement, he both warmly thanked his wowed and vowed "fans" -- and, with fatherly gentleness, reminded them whose shoes he wears.
In this moment I can only thank grace for your love of the Church, for the love of Our Lord and that you give your love also to the poor successor of St. Peter. I will do all that is possible to be a (worthy) successor of the great St. Peter, who also was a man with his faults and sins, but he remains finally the rock for the Church. And so also I, with all my poorness -- spiritual [poorness] -- can be, with the grace of the Lord in this time, the successor of Peter. And with your prayers, your love will give me the certainty that the Lord will help me in this, my ministry.
So I am so deeply thankful for your love, for your prayer, and my answer in this moment to all what you have given to me in this moment and this visit is my blessing at the end of the Holy Mass.
Amen, Holy Father. And Amen again.
Or, as the priests and nuns chanted while the Pope exited: BEN-E-DI-TO! BEN-E-DI-TO!
2. What a scene to step into after Mass, the hordes of humankind queued up behind police cordons for just a glimpse of this man of "spiritual poorness." It seemed the whole of Manhattan turned out to form one long, serpentine line. The view from inside the cordons = a sight I'll never forget. Anyway, I decided to get a few quick quotes from some young priests and religious walking along at about my pace. What, I wanted to know, did celebrating Mass with the Holy Father -- in English, in America -- mean to you?
"I've never been to Rome but he brought Rome to us a little bit here in the United States," a young member of the Sisters of St. Francis of Perpetual Adoration in Mishawaka, Ind., told me. "This really, I'm sure, inspires a lot of people to follow the faith more closely and with greater fidelity. Seeing our Holy Father inspires us so much." Were the ovations a distraction from the sacrament at hand? "Well, having the whole Body of Christ here -- complete with our head, priests, religious, lay people -- everybody's here but we're all centered in Christ and in the Eucharist. I was thinking about that at Mass. Everyone was united spiritually in this spot right now but Christ is always here; we have him always. It's amazing, the fullness."
Father Sean Timmerman, ordained five years ago in the Diocese of Lincoln, Neb., said the experience was "a tremendous opportunity, and just very special knowing that we could celebrate with the Holy Father. It's always nice to go to Rome but this was special, having him come to our home." (I got the sense Father Timmerman was a man of few words. His beaming comportment filled in the blanks.)
And a young priest from the Philippines who's in New York for studies put it like this: "When you are inside a church with the Pope, it's really an awesome experience. I cannot explain it. It's the mystery of God's presence in us. It's really wonderful to have this kind of experience in which each one of us is an instrument of God's love. Now we have to communicate that love to the world."
(BTW, the text of the Holy Father's memorable St. Pat's homily, from whose script he did not veer, is here.)
3. Remember the question I raised a few days ago about the "interior struggle" Catholic journalists sometimes experience when covering big Church events like papal Masses? The whole Am I here as a Catholic or as a journalist thing? Well, I now admit what a dumb question that was from the get-go. (Then, too, if you can't hash out a dumb question on a blog, where can you take it?) What settled the matter for me was recognizing, and introducing myself to, a writer I very much admire and respect, Peggy Noonan, before this Mass. I repeated the question and asked her -- klutzily, with an inappropriate specificity that probably alarmed the poor woman (D'oh! Guess I've gotten a little rusty on the ol' field-reporting skills) -- whether or not she would be receiving Communion. "Oh, absolutely," she said. "Absolutely."
Question closed. Promise.
-- David Pearson