Since everyone was watching the Sistine Chapel chimney, a seagull decided to bask in the attention.
As white smoke wafted out of the most-watched chimney on the planet, signifying the election of a new pontiff, our gay friend wished he could make like the Vatican someday and announce, “Habemus papa.”
Watch Mea Maxima Culpa: Silence in the House of God, Alex Gibney’s (Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room; Taxi to the Dark Side) deeply disturbing documentary about how the church deals with sex abuse cases. Gibney points out that from 2001, every case of clerical sex abuse around the world was reported to the Grand Inquisitor (which had previously supervised the Inquisition). The Grand Inquisitor was Cardinal Ratzinger. The documentary premiered on television days before the papal abdication.
It sounds like a novel by Robert Ludlum or Dan Brown, and it’s supposed to. Any time something unexpected occurs in an institution as averse to change as the Roman Catholic Church, we bring out the conspiracy theories. Surely this cannot be as simple as the Vatican announcement that Benedict XVI was stepping down due to his age and declining strength. The fact that popes have resigned in the past—most recently 600 years ago—does not make it any less shocking. Nobody remembers what happened in 1415, but everyone knows that popes die in office.
No one expects the pope’s resignation! His chief weapon was surprise.
First time in 600 years that has happened. We didn’t know they were allowed to do that.
The relics of Celestine V after the church roof fell in an earthquake
As news reports have pointed out, the first pontiff to abdicate was Celestine V in 1294. (They’ve also noted that Benedict visited Celestine’s tomb twice.) He was succeeded by Boniface VIII. Boniface then had him imprisoned, which was rather rude. Dante Alighieri loathed Boniface and hated Celestine for paving the way for his papacy. So Celestine got a cameo in the Inferno, where Dante consigned all his political enemies:
When some among them I had recognised,
I looked, and I beheld the shade of him
Who made through cowardice the great refusal.
(Inferno Canto III)
Vatican history is fascinating, with its schisms, scandals and Crusades, Borgia and Medici, its apocryphal Pope Joan, Inquisition, its political dealings, its financial holdings, its beyond-spectacular art collection. Interesting how this pope is abdicating for medical reasons when his predecessor died in office after a long illness. We kind of like (can’t bring ourselves to like outright) how he acknowledged the need for “strength of mind”—making thinking as important as suffering. Under the circumstances, that’s almost liberal.
* * * * *
Two friends begin their illustrious careers at the same time, their paths diverge, one turns into Vader and the other tries to overthrow him.
Star Wars, or Joseph Ratzinger and Hans Küng?
Catholic theologian preaches revolution to end church’s authoritarian rule
Update: Wow this book is riveting! We started reading it last night and got halfway through. It’s a 19th century novel AND it was originally in Spanish so it does get florid (especially during the romantic portions, which we just zip through). But this is way more compelling than we remember from when we were compelled to read it. Noli me tangere starts out sharp and funny as Rizal satirizes the institutions of his time (which were already fossilized, and which hold sway to this day), and gets progressively infuriating (Nakakagalit!) as it portrays the abuses of the frailes. The way Rizal zeroes in on his targets—no wonder he got shot.
We feel bad for Carlos Celdran, but not that bad because we know that he knew what he was getting into. Mostly we’re flummoxed at the discovery that We Live In Medieval Times.
Our reading group is supposed to be doing Proust right now, but Swann’s Way is not under threat. Noli Me Tangere is. The Filipino nation would not exist without Jose Rizal’s masterpiece: a novel that sets out to offend religious feelings.
So years and years after reading Rizal under duress in P.I. 100 class, we’re going to read Noli again. Not just because we have to, but because we want to.
Carlos, we owe you a drink.
Lauro Gonzales, a self-styled prophet who now calls himself Kristong Hari (Jesus King) performs a prayer with his followers ‘for the end times’ in the Quiapo district of Manila in the Philippines. Photograph: Dondi Tawatao/Getty Images
Has the passage of the bill been connected to the results of the Miss Universe beauty pageant? The first runner-up finish of Bb. Pilipinas-Universe Janine Tugonon was the main topic of conversation in the taxi queue. Everyone in line agreed that Miss Philippines should have won, not only because she was the most beautiful finalist but also because she had nailed the Q&A. She was, they added, superior in all respects to the candidate who won the title—a sentiment echoed by various politicians, ever eager to be mentioned in the media in any context.
If Miss Philippines never made it beyond “Thank you, girls”, this would not be an issue. If she had placed fourth or fifth, everyone would be pleased. But she had gotten within a hair of winning the Miss Universe crown, and that really stings. Mas masakit yung ‘muntik na’ kaysa sa ‘wala namang pag-asa’. “At least Miss Mexico wasn’t even in the finals,” somebody sniped, thus connecting the Miss Universe results to the outcome of the Pacquiao-Marquez match. This is Pinoy logic, which operates according to its own rules. “Maybe Miss Universe will get knocked up and be unable to fulfill her obligations, and the first runner-up will have to take over!” someone added.
The various factions of the Catholic Church in the Philippines are battling each other…on our phones. How did they get our numbers, did the angels cough them up? All last week we woke up to messages from the “silent clergy” urging the House of Representatives to pass the Reproductive Health bill. Today we got a text from the un-silent side promising eternal damnation to the 114 congressmen who said yes to the RH bill. Thunderbolts and lighting, very very frightening!
But we are dealing with an institution whose chief weapon is fear. Fear and ignorance. Whose two chief weapons are fear, ignorance, and credulity. Whose three chief weapons are fear, ignorance, credulity…How do you reason with something built on unreason? With Monty Python’s Meaning of Life.
Given Twilight-level lack of irony, expect to hear this song at an anti-RH protest.
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