Friday, October 2 – ” I want to be inspired by my faith, and I want to be excited and gleeful about it.”
A former history major student, now UDM graduate, and college faculty member — a mom with small children, a scholar with a reputation for her publications about Catholic feminists in the U.S. — told me early last week she and the family were treking to Philly for the Pope’s mass on the Parkway that leads to the art museum and features the famous stairs from Rocky I. I asked her to describe the mass for me, and she did. I asked her if I could use her description as this Friday’s post: “You write with a voice that speaks like many people about Francis in America.” Mary replied: “Sure, why not? Redact at will!”
Have a great weekend as summer eases into autumn with classic autumnnal gusty winds and rain. Even so, October is my favorite month.
john sj
Today’s Post: one scholar, teacher, street smart mom’s thoughts about going to Philly for the mass.
SO – I promised you some thoughts on the papal mass. I find myself with a few minutes before class, so I’ll try to set some down.
We went with Tim’s cousin Lori and her family, who live in Willow Grove. The night before, Ella had a relapse of a stomach bug, leaving her green and us very very sleep deprived. Thankfully Ella’s aunts also live in Philly, and are nurses, and graciously offered to take her for the day, having planned a pope-cation. So I was torn, having now abandoned my vomiting child to go see the pope on a jumbotron.
We left around 10 am to attend the 4pm mass, with three boys in tow (ages 7, 6, and 5). The vibe was great all day. Everyone was friendly and smiling and considerate as we made our way by train to downtown, then walked and walked and walked to the parkway. There was a group of Mexican seminarians that was just a delight, basically screaming papal themed soccer chants as they walked down the street in their black cassocks.
I found myself reflecting quite a bit on John Paul’s trip to Philly in 1979. The women I wrote about viewed the papal visit as a means of access, a chance to say their piece, even if it was only holding a banner as he drove by. They wanted to have their voices heard. Here I am how many years later, with nothing really changed for women in the church, and I’m acting like a superfan. It gave me pause. But honestly the last thing I wanted was disruption. I like Pope Francis a lot. I like how he’s trying to redirect us, wake us up to messages that were there all along. Be present to the world. Bring Christ to the world. Go to the margins. This is what the mass felt like to me; I listened to the words in a new way. At the blessing I really felt like he was charging me with the power of the holy spirit to go out into the world.
Some of this has to do with being outside in an enormous gathering of people, sitting on a blanket (draped with a sleeping child for a good chunk of the time), staring at a screen (we couldn’t see the stage – we were right behind the grandstand). Although I don’t want chant for my normal liturgical life, I found it very moving in this context, especially the chanted gospel which I thought was incredibly haunting. And the papal umbrellas moving down in a seemingly endless procession to bring communion to the people is just a beautiful, charming image that I think I will always remember.
The day inspired high emotion on my part (the sleep deprivation might have something to do with this). Lori and I both found ourselves tearing up at odd moments, and catching each other at it. He represents the movement of the Holy Spirt for me, because I had given up hope of seeing anything inspiring coming out of the Vatican. I want to be inspired by my faith, and I want to be excited and gleeful about it. I love that people around me at work – colleagues and students – were excited too, whether they were Catholic or not. So I got weepy a bit. The kissing of the babies and sick children does this to me. (Although watching the bodyguards carrying the babies makes me giggle every time).
Then he had to go and meet with Kim Davis. That threw me this morning, but I’m filing it under the category of “Things for which Pope Francis needs prayer.” He asked us to pray for him, and so I do: for his health, and his peace, and his courage, and his conversion on a few select items. I also pray that he will do some reading in the field of gender history so we can convince him that gender theory is not from the devil.
Ella has recovered, although it was touch and go for getting home yesterday. I managed to take communion (if anyone was going to be trampled it was then) and saved half to give to her when her tummy was more stable. I don’t think the gesture meant much to her now, but I’m hoping it will later. She got a hat with “I love Pope Francis” on it. I’m keeping the pope doll for myself. (He now presides over my office. I might put him on my desk to inspire my students).
Aack! Time for class!
With love,
Mary
