April 04, 2005

small

I was probably seven years old when the Pope visited Los Angeles. He celebrated mass at the Coliseum, and I remember freaking out after seeing my parish deacon, who was assisting with the service, on tv. Only one degree of separation existed between the Pope and me, and the world seemed very small.

Watching the world's reaction to the Pope's death makes me feel the same way today. Granted, I don't know these people mourning on TV and my relationship with the Catholic Church is much more tenuous than seventeen years ago. Nevertheless, I feel like part of something tangible. Part of this comes from never before witnessing reactions on such a global scale. I'm used to seeing reactions from first-world countries, like England or France or Germany. When I do see other countries, it's usually because those countries actually suffered the tragedies, such as Indonesia or Thailand. With the Pope's death, however, I see pictures from people all over the world of all sorts of religions. At a time when we politicize a family dispute over a woman's death, this unity simply amazes me. Even my father -- who rests his butt on the pews while kneeling in church -- 'shed tears' this weekend.

My reaction to the Pope's death was less dramatic. He's been sick for a while, and I've expected his death for a while. I disagree with some major principles of the church and have yet to find a way to reconcile them. I am unsettled by a two-thousand-year history without women leaders. Yet despite these fundamental differences, I can't help but feel sad by the Pope's passing.

With the death of Terri Schiavo and the Pope, I've been thinking a lot about heaven and souls. I was taught in grade school that when you're in heaven, it's like having your mind without your body. That seems to assume, then, that your soul is what you think. Which makes me wonder: If you're in a persistent vegetative state, what does your soul do for fifteen years? Does God have a special place for popes? When you're in heaven, do you finally see how small the world really is?