Remnant Dispatches from Rome
	Updates on the Conclave and Papal Election

Wednesday April 20:  by Michael J. Matt

ROME: The only way to describe the feeling here in Rome at the moment is that it’s the calm before the storm.  The pundits, who have been tapped by the omnipresent media to tell the world what it all means, have been reduced to delivering semi-coherent sound bytes that serve to prove that no one, least of all the pundits, knows what the future the holds.  The “experts” can’t quite make up their minds who Benedict XVI is—a semi-modernist or “God’s Rotweiler” of hard-line orthodoxy.

And, of course, the para-Catholics—those liberal parasites who are too steeped in their own ignorance and pride to notice they’re in the wrong Church—are throwing such absurd hissy-fits in the wake of yesterday’s election that all one can do is laugh.  Not even waiting for the new Pope’s installation next Sunday, these characters have initiated a war of words against the “man who will turn back the clock” on Vatican II, on “women’s rights” in the Church and on the “great progress” of John Paul II’s pontificate.  Wouldn’t it be grand!

If we are to take Benedict XVI’s vociferous enemies as any indication of what sort of man now sits on Peter’s throne, there actually may be ample reason for hope.  The very same jackals (feminist nuns, Catholics for a Free Choice, etc.) that are so repulsed by the intolerable "dogmatism" of the traditional Church are equally repulsed by Benedict XVI.  This can only be good news.

On the other hand, as Pope Benedict assumes the awesome responsibilities of his new office, he himself is sending mixed signals. Some of his statements thus far are not easily spun as good news for traditionalists.  During his first Mass today in the Sistine Chapel, for example, Pope Benedict spoke in highly laudatory terms of Pope John Paul’s pontificate, his own intention to continue the late Pope’s ecumenical initiatives, and the actualization of Vatican II in “faithful continuity with the bi-millennial tradition of the Church”.  And, though the Mass was in Latin, the Roman Canon was conspicuous by its presence and accompanied by exquisite sacred music, it is also true that the new Pope “faced the people” and gave Communion in the hand to one or two cardinals who requested it.  Indicators of business of usual in Rome?  Perhaps.

The former Cardinal Ratzinger is a politician; there has never been any doubt of that.   Were Benedict XVI to have inaugurated his Pontificate with a flurry of denunciations of the policies of his predecessor, he would have succeeded in getting himself hanged from the colonnade in St. Peter’s Square.  So it is difficult to ascertain how much of what is being said is protocol, on the one hand, or future policy indicators on the other.  Is Benedict moving away from John Paul?  Or is he an ideal successor?

That statement from this morning’s Mass is interesting:  “The actualization of Vatican II in faithful continuity with the bi-millennial tradition of the Church”.  This could be taken two ways.  It may cause cautiously optimistic traditionalists no small discomfort, but I’ll bet that the progressivists on the other side of the aisle are even more concerned.  Why?  Because the modern Church has moved well past the comparative “conservatism” of the Second Vatican Council.  For the progressivist Catholic the statement is appalling.  For him, the new Pope has taken an oath of fidelity to two thousand years of Catholic teaching tradition—a progressivist nightmare!

Again, only time will tell which Ratzinger was elected Pope, but for the moment let us at least wait for proof that the Grace of the Holy Ghost has not brought on a change in the heart of the man who is now our Pope.  Because of the power of the grace of the papal office (which history has shown can change liberals into traditionalists overnight, as in the case of Blessed Pius IX), no one really knows at this moment who sits on Peter’s throne.

One thing is sure, however, Pope Benedict XVI is about to be crucified by the left-wing rabble who think they belong to the Catholic Church.  An open schism may be in its nascent stage. The modern world, so intoxicated with love and tolerance for Pope John Paul, is at this moment massing its forces for all-out war against Benedict.  If the new Pope has the fortitude of mind and soul to resist rather than acquiesce, then a new day is indeed dawning.  That rabble will do their best to chase Benedict our way—back in the direction of Catholic tradition—and when that happens he will find several million loyal traditionalists rising up around him, manning the walls of Vatican City, and vowing a fight to the death in defense of the new Pope.

Some years ago, the late Michael Davies approached me with an odd request.  He asked me to stop publishing criticisms of Cardinal Ratzinger in The Remnant.  He acknowledged that the Cardinal had positions which were problematic to traditionalists, but nevertheless asked that we consider moving away from criticizing him publicly.  It was Michael’s adamant contention that Cardinal Ratzinger would prove a great friend of tradition in the end.  “He’s on our side, more than you know,” he assured me.

At the time, I was not inclined to go along with that suggestion and so demurred.  I make no apologies for that decision, but the issue of criticizing the Cardinal became a bone of contention that lasted until Michael’s death.

Over the past few days here in Rome, however, I’ve thought a lot about what Michael said, and I keep asking myself:  “What did Michael know?  Is it possible that he had some intimation as to who might be the next Pope?”  And could the Cardinal have had a notion that, come the next conclave, he or someone sympathetic to tradition had a fighting chance of wining the next papal election? 

Impossible? Probably.  But consider the approximate vote tallies of this conclave. A reliable contact of ours here in Rome has provided some insight.  Citing numerous internal sources in the Vatican curia on the progress of the voting during the conclave, he reports to us that at the first “scrutiny” of the ballots, Cardinal Ratzinger drew 50 to 60 votes, while Cardinal Martini, the progressivist candidate, drew 20 to 30 votes.  By the fourth and final “scrutiny” Ratzinger had received at more than 80 votes and probably ended up with closer to 100. Many of the progressivists threw in the towel, recognizing that their defeat was inevitable and that they should take advantage of the opportunity to present a “united” Church to the world.  It turns out that Tettamanzi, Sodano and one or more South American candidates received only a smattering of votes. 

In other words, Cardinal Ratzinger appears to have faced very little serious opposition. Did he have a hunch already several years ago that this was how things might come down at the next conclave?  Could he have somehow managed to get word—without actually committing himself to anything concrete—to Michael Davies that patience was warranted and that a movement towards the restoration was in the works at the highest level in the Church?  Wouldn’t that explain Michael’s adamant defense of the Cardinal?

I’m not suggesting that any of this is certain or even likely.  In fact, it may well be preposterous. Stranger things, however, have happened, and perhaps there is real cause for hope of better things to come for traditional Catholics.

In any event, the next few months will tell all.  All we can do now is hope and pray for the best even if traditionalists, certainly no strangers to heartbreak at the hands of promising ecclesiastics, more or less expect to be disappointed again. There’s plenty of time for disappointment. For now, however, let us remain cautiously optimistic, at least until Pope Benedict himself lets the world know in no uncertain terms that nothing is to change except for the name of Peter’s successor, and that the Vatican will continue to pursue the disastrous course of the past 40 years.

From Rome, then, thanks to all who followed our reports on the conclave and who were kind enough to provide feedback on our efforts.  We hope that the insights gained and the unforgettable experiences of this week will help improve our coverage of this new Pontificate in the pages of The Remnant in the days to come—days which promise to be more interesting than we could imagine.

Arriverderci Roma!

Tuesday April 19:  by Michael J. Matt

Habemus Papam - A Supremely Catholic Moment...No Matter What Tomorrow Brings

ROME -Certain moments in this life are so extraordinary as to defy description.  For me, the conclusion of the Papal Conclave of 2005 here in Rome was one of those moments.  Here, then, is a rushed, and no doubt disjointed, account of the events I witnessed here at the Vatican just an hour ago.

The Catholic Church has a Pope again, and all the world knows it. Rome's church bells rang for hours; sirens and car horns sounded; young people sang their hearts out, while a hundred thousand danced in the streets for joy.  This entire city is in the throes of what appears to be a monumental victory celebration. Visions of the Catholic triumphalism (and I mean that in the good sense) of the past were everywhere in evidence

Companies of the Swiss Guard in full regalia stand at attention in the middle of the square.  A military drummer provided the cadence for the solemn steps of their traditional formation.  Catholic priests in cassock were everywhere.  Hundreds of nuns in traditional habit looked on, many with tears of joy streaming down their faces.  The vast crowd was so closely packed together that one could hardly move a few inches in any direction.

A short while before, white smoke had ascended from the chimney of Sistine Chapel.  At first, no one could believe that, after all the long hours of the Conclave watch, the smoke at last appeared white.   Fumata bianca? Fumata bianca? Si, si, si! Fumata bianca!  The Romans around us can hardly control themselves.  In an instant, St. Peter’s erupted into thunderous shouts of habemus papam.

But this was just the beginning.  The white smoke gradually dissipated and the growing tension became palpable as the immense crowd waited in anticipation. Dark clouds gathered in the sky overhead; curious flocks of great birds began circling Michelangelo’s Dome, almost as if the anticipation was killing them, too.  Chants of Viva il Papa began to erupt here and there until, finally and in one voice, the ancient Roman greeting for a new Pope swelled in a crescendo.  The moment of knowing was at hand.

Viva il Papa, viva il Papa, viva il Papa.

All eyes were fixed now on the loggia, the balcony where the new Pope was to appear at any moment.  As if to make the white smoke official, the great bells of St. Peter’s announced the news half the world already knew.  Habemus Papam!  But WHO?  Time stood still as curious clouds continued to move this way and that, here and there in the skies over the Vatican.  Even the heavens above seemed anxious to know who it would be.

Then, in an instant, the bells stopped and a hush came over the crowd. Twenty more excruciating moments of delay and, hurrah!, the doors opened wide.  High above that vast crowd, a Cardinal appeared and spoke words which, though in Italian, every non-Italian clearly understood: “Il Santo Padre Benedetto XVI.”

Like a volley of canon fire, the hundred thousand voices erupted into a deafening roar of approval, many surging forward in the direction of the new Pope. The exhilaration was like a tidal wave sweeping over the people, burying them in happy shouts and cheers. And, amazingly, through all that magnificent din, the name “Joseph Ratzinger” suddenly pierced the air like a thunderclap, echoing though the colonnade and seeming to reverberate off the Castle Sant’ Angelo and beyond.  A hundred thousand roared a greeting as the Cardinal-turned-Pope appeared at the balcony, his arms raised; a warm smile on his face.

Tears flowed from the eyes of women and men alike, while perfect strangers hugged each other in jubilation. Benedetto, Benedetto, Benedetto, Benedetto, Benedetto, Benedetto—it was deafening!

Standing there in the Piazza, Vatican II never happened; this endless sea of Catholics had been transformed into the Church Militant in all its glory; we had returned to the glory of the Middle Ages and it was if the man standing there on the loggia was Pius V himself. 

It was plain to see what it must have been like in the Roman Catholic Church in the glory days of Christendom.  What was happening seemed to transcend time;  it was the stuff with which history books are filled; all the triumphal majesty of the Catholic Church—the foundation of Christian civilization, the Bride of Our Lord, the heart of Christendom and the soul of humanity—was on magnificent display before our tear-filled eyes.  It was as if a bad dream lasting forty years had, in an instant, ended.  We had been awakened at last.

This is the Holy, Roman, Catholic and Apostolic Church the modernists have no power to destroy, try as they might. The Church can never be permanently desecrated by theological pygmies!  The Revolution of Vatican II be damned!  When God sends a good Pope, the old Faith will return with a vengeance. Perhaps this is already happening. The people in St. Peter’s Square today, though they did not know it, were screaming for the return of the old Church, and Pope Benedict responded with a warm smile followed by a solemn, Latin benediction.

As any Catholic must be at a time like this, I am overwhelmed—far too much so to offer comments on the politics or the theology of the man who was Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger but is now Pope Benedict XVI. All I will say is this:  While watching him this week—all the concerns we at The Remnant have had and continue to have notwithstanding—I understood why every traditional Catholic we’ve spoken to agrees that Cardinal Ratzinger, of all of the cardinals, is the one most easily imagined to be moving in the direction of a restoration.

What does this mean?  Nothing!  It’s just the observation of one observer here in Rome.  But the future Pope’s actions this week—his words, prayers, Masses—were marked, not only by the return of the sacred Latin language, but also by a gravitas that reminded one of what it means to be a prince of the Church.

Is this the intoxication of Romanitas talking? It is very possible.  I do not pretend that this is a moment like any other or that this is a place like any other.  Only a fool would insist that he’s above the seductions of the Roman “thing”. 

To my dying day (and no matter what happens next), I will never forget the image of Benedict XVI, standing high over the Piazza San Pedro, raising his arm in blessing, calling upon the Blessed Mother and all the saints for their assistance, and absolving in the sacred, Latin words the hundred thousand souls at his feet.

So, yes, it will take time to assimilate all of this and to ascertain where, exactly, we now stand. For the moment, all I can think is that Peter’s most recent Successor could have been much worse.  What is sure is that, at least by today’s Vatican standards, the far-right wing of ecclesiastical conservatism in the Catholic Church has been victorious, and the liberals—the Kaspers, the Mahonys, the Tettamanzis—have suffered a crushing blow.  Benedictamus Domino!

What it all means remains to be seen, but at least now, in Rome, it is a new day for the Church.  A new Pope sits on Peter’s Throne. And, just as the liberal Pius IX surprised the world and shocked the Cardinal electors whose liberal choice turned himself into a lion of unyielding orthodoxy, there is at least hope that something similar could happen again now—with the help of the Holy Ghost, of course.

We have a new Pope. Thus, anything now is possible. It is up to Pope Benedict XVI to surprise, to disappoint, to destroy, or to restore.  Only time will tell.  But the next few weeks will be very interesting.

For the moment, let us rejoice—Habemus Papam! Come Holy Ghost!  Viva il Papa!  Long live Pope Benedict XVI!

Monday April 18 (Midnight, Rome Time) - by Michael J. Matt

ROME: It’s quiet here in Rome. Night has fallen. Black smoke rose dramatically from the chimney of the Sistine Chapel this evening. (There was the normal brief puff of light-colored ignition smoke followed immediately by plumes of black smoke. From St. Peter's Square, there was no question about it: we had no Pope!) The world will have to again go to bed tonight “sedevacantist.” As the sun went down on this first day of the Conclave, the lights on St. Peter’s came up and this Catholic jewel is presently bathed in light and framed by a black Roman sky, causing it to positively shimmer in the unseasonably chilly air. Please God, let tradition reign here once again!

It’s sobering to think of all those thousands of times the late Holy Father must have looked at this scene—this magnificent square, the colonnade, the huge silent statues of the Apostles. All this and Rome beyond he saw through his apartment window each night. Perhaps he didn’t see it enough though, at least according to one Roman on the street today. Responding to our question “What did you think of Pope John Paul”, he answered: “He wasn’t here enough… here, in Rome! He was always traveling. We loved our Holy Father but he should have stayed home more.”

Out of he mouths of Romans…

The mood here in Rome seems to be changing, perhaps in the natural order of things, perhaps not. The Pilgrim Pope has ended his pilgrimage. He’s here in the sense that St. Peter’s has made room for him, too, but he is no more and Rome seems eager to see what’s next.

Fifty thousand in the Square today craned their necks and joined the whole world in becoming transfixed by a simple little chimney atop of the Sistine Chapel. The late Pope’s apartment window was no longer the focal point. Rather than looking for the man who was Pope, they looked for the one who will be.  When black smoke rose today, the disappointed murmur of 50,000 told the whole story.

I saw only one Santo Subito sign today, and, aside from Poland’s Catholics who will never forget their favorite son, I wonder how long the larger-than-life aura of Pope John Paul will survive our fickle world’s lust for change and something new. He was, as the talking heads kept reminding us, the ultimate “media pope.” What happens, then, when the cameras no longer have their favorite subject? So much of what was said of him over the years was premised on glowing accolades of the personal magnetism—the personality—of the man himself. Will all that survive the grave? What will be the real legacy of John Paul II? One hundred years from now will a substantial number of Catholics still be quoting Ut unum sint as passionately as today they quote Pascendi? Perhaps, but I wonder...

As I say, the mood here is changing. I’m not one for making predictions, but I’ll make one here: The next pope will not be John Paul III. I don’t pretend to know who or what he’ll be, but he won’t be Pope John Paul III. That book is, for the time being, closed.

The winds of change are blowing across Rome tonight; that’s plain to see. What is anything but plain to see is the direction in which (or from which) they’re blowing. Our only hope is that, riding these blustery Roman winds is another Wind…the one that blew two thousand years ago when the predecessors of the very men who sent up black smoke today were locked away in another holy room… and history was about to change forever.

Sleeping behind these walls tonight is there a Pius XIII waiting to ascend the Throne of Peter? Leo XIV? What a thought! Impossible? Yes, again, humanly speaking. But with God anything is possible.

It must be late, as I’m obviously beginning to dream. I’ll sign off here. One more stroll through the Piazza San Pietro before I sleep. Tomorrow may turn out to be the biggest day in the recent history of the Church. Now it is time to pray and sleep…for a Heaven-inspired decision in the Sistine Chapel tomorrow and for the repose of the soul of Pope John Paul, whose vital presence is fading fast from the streets of the Eternal City. In all the happenings here in Rome today, it’s easy to forget that now he knows—John Paul now knows everything. For him there are no more questions… and, in that sense, I envy him.

Remnant Post from Rome: Monday April 18 (5:40 Rome Time) - by Michael J. Matt

ROME: As I write these words from the Eternal City, the Cardinals of the Catholic Church are processing into the Sistine Chapel.  The vestments they wear are traditional; the Litany of the Saints is being sung in Latin, the procession is slow and dramatic...it's very Catholic.  Everything we've seen thus far as the Conclave begins--from Cardinal Ratzinger's opening prayer in Latin to this magnificent procession--makes it seem as if Vatican II never happened.  The "Spirit of Vatican II" disappears whenever something really important happens!  Here in the Vatican Press Center, where, just a moment ago there was the multilingual chatter of representatives of the world press, there is now a hushed silence. Something Catholic, at least in all externals, is happening.  The media are, for the moment, silent.

Veni Creator Spiritus is at this moment being solemnly chanted.  The Cardinals stand at attention at their places inside the Chapel.  Cardinal Ratzinger leads them from where he stands in front of a traditional altar--not a table.  Never in my life have I seen the leaders of our Church in such an apparent and awesome manifestation of genuine appeal to the Holy Ghost.  What does it mean?  We must wait and see but the external trappings are surely as Catholic as anything I've ever seen.  Please, God, let it be a sincere and desperate appeal to Heaven...for desperate is the current condition of the Catholic Church.  Let this be the beginning of the end of the nightmare. 

Yes, they are all here--I see Cardinal Law, and there is Cardinal Kasper, there's Mahony...with such men gathered what reason have any of us for optimism?!  None, humanly speaking.  But at some point, the Holy Ghost will intervene...why not right now?  Cardinal Ratzinger is now reading the prayer in Latin; he is reminding the Cardinals that they must scrupulously adhere to the rules of the Conclave.  The look on his face is as it should be at such a moment--it's is grave.  "We promise and swear to observe the maximum fidelity to the secrecy of the election," he says.  Let us pray that they also will solemnly swear to listen to the promptings of the Holy Ghost at this most important crossroads in the history of our Church.

The Cardinals are now, one by one, taking their solemn oaths.  Each places his hand on the Bible and swears a solemn oath.  The Conclave has begun.  May God be with them--to strengthen the ones who still have the Faith and to convert and restore those who seem to have lost it during this most tragic time of crisis in our beloved Church. More from Rome later this afternoon.  Please pray!

Remnant Post from Rome: Sunday April 17 - by Michael J. Matt:

ROME: Rome is one of the few places on earth that actually lives up to its reputation.  The Catholic arrives here in the Eternal City and while becoming acquainted with his new surroundings, more or less imagines himself to be like any other tourist visiting any other famous European city.  But at some point, he’ll  round a bend or turn a corner and, gasp!, there it is—Michelangelo’s Dome.  You’re in Rome…you’re seeing with your own eyes that symbolic fortress of a Faith that’s lived and  breathed for over two thousand years, shaped Western civilization and all that means and entails.

At the sight of the magnificent St. Peter’s, the Catholic stops and must catch his breath a moment.  There before his eyes is the heart of the Church, and, in an instant, he’s no longer a stranger; he’s a lost child restored to his mother’s embrace…he’s home!

Despite the Revolution of Vatican II, this is still Rome and it’s humbling beyond words to stand in the shadows of these sacred buildings and realize that, buried not very far beneath these cobbles, is the place where little Agnes was martyred, Cecilia breathed her last breath, Paul was beheaded, Peter was crucified upside down. They’re all here, and, in a very real sense, their bones speak to the modern world from beyond the grave… from the very bowels of Rome. 

The catacombs where they hid themselves thousands of years ago still remain, almost untouched by the hands of time, and they serve as a silent reminder of what Christ’s asks of those who love Him. The memory of the early Christians’ witness to Christ’s Truth, in fact, seems to be the intangible that breathes the soul into this Holy City.  And nothing, not even Vatican II, can take that away.

As we arrive this particular Sunday morning, the rain is coming down in torrents and already throngs of people, eager to see Pope John Paul’s new tomb, are standing on long lines that stretch along one side of the Piazza San Pietro.  The line going into the Basilica is shorter, and so we enter what has been a place of pilgrimage for kings and queens, saints and sinner, the lowly and the mighty for a thousand years.  How can one possibly absorb what it means to walk through the Great Doors of St. Peter’s!  One is reduced to silence, which only becomes more profound by the vision, a few steps further, of the Pieta just to the right, the tomb of St. Pius X to the left, the tomb of St. Peter himself straight ahead.  Silence and prayer…nothing more is required or possible. 

A Mass is going on, the celebrant is one of the men who, in a few days, will cast his vote for a new Pope — the Successor of St. Peter and Supreme Pontiff of the Universal Church.  The Mass is, surprisingly, being offered in Latin, and a swelling crowd of thousands stands, even through the consecration, snapping pictures and gaping at the score of Princes of the Church who assist at the Mass on this the day before another Papal Conclave is to convene. 

One of the many Cardinals in the sanctuary is Cardinal Ratzinger.  Word here is that he has a very slim chance of succeeding Pope John Paul in ascending to Peter’s Chair, and that the Ukrainian Cardinal Lubomyr Hussar, the French Jew Cardinal Lustiger, and Cardinal Dionigi Tettamanzi, the Archbishop of Milan, remain the frontrunners.  But no one really knows, and those who pretend to know apparently learned little from the Conclave of 1978.  No one knows.  We have only our intuitions.

The Mass in St. Peter’s today is in Latin, the Cardinals and another 35 priests are dressed in traditional vestments; not an altar girl or woman reader is in sight; no “extraordinary” ministers are present, and, from my vantage point, I see no one receive Our Lord in the hand.  Do these men realize how atypical this is?  Even as On Eagles’ Wings is crooned ad nauseam in half-empty churches back in the States this morning, Pange Lingua is being sung here in Rome as thousands look on.  To the casual observer, it’s as if Vatican II never happened.

Luck is with us, for we are standing along the Cardinals’ route of recession as the Mass has come to a close.  It’s a peculiar sensation, being just feet from the most powerful leaders of the Church!  On the one hand, one experiences a renewed sense of pride at being Catholic and at being close enough to reach out and touch the successors of the Apostles.  But on the other hand, this momentary brush with Romanitas, up close and in person, does little to lessen the awareness of awful crisis and chaos in the Church these men now shepherd, to say nothing of the role many of them play (or fail to play) in her ongoing auto-demolition.  It’s a moment filled with awe and regret and even anger.   

Still, the pull of Romanitas is powerful; I detect in myself the urge to fall on my knees at the feet of these men and pour out of my heart the reverence their hallowed office so richly deserves.  But something stops me before I can move from where I stand—it’s the sickening realization that there is a wall, not unlike the Viale Vaticano that separates Vatican City from modern Rome, between us (the sheep) and our shepherds; it is the wall that Modernism built.

In silence, I watch the Cardinals leave St. Peter’s.  A lump forms in the throat…I’m not sure why.  I’ve suddenly become conscious of an intense longing to have been born and lived out my life a hundred years ago… before the wall was built…when Rome was still master of the Catholic world and Vatican II was only a nightmare waiting to happen.

Exhausted and jetlagged, I’ll let these few thoughts serve as my first post from Rome.  There will be several more over the course of the next few days, followed by, Deo volente, an announcement of habemus papam when that time comes.  I have no predictions as to which man will be chosen.  Being here in the Eternal City during a Conclave brings one closer to the historic moment only physically; it provides no key to future.  Once the doors of the Sistine Chapel are closed and the key is turned in the lock, no one but God Himself knows what will happen next. So even here in Rome we wait just as does the rest of the world…for the white smoke to rise. 

***

As I stood outside of the Vatican Press Office this morning waiting to pick up my press credentials, I looked down Via  D. Conciliazione at St. Peter’s on my left and to Castel Sant' Angelo to my right, marveling at the sheer magnificence of the Eternal City.  Even through the driving rain, the majesty of it all is overwhelming.  But we are at an historic crossroads, and I wonder if this crossroads is to be the point in history where the Catholic Church returns to tradition…turns back the hands of time on a disastrous half-century of “progress”; or is the Church poised, even at this critical juncture, to move still further down the via dolorosa of Vatican II.  Come, Holy Ghost, fill the hearts of Thy Cardinals and enkindle in them the fire of Thy Divine Love…

A clap of thunder interrupts my thoughts; lightning flashes across the sky just above and behind St. Peter’s.  Low clouds are enveloping the huge Cross atop Michangelo’s Dome, obscuring the greatest symbol the world has ever known.  It’s as if heaven is bridging the mysterious gap between her celestial mansions and the weary world here below.  What does it all mean? The Cross is gone and the rain continues to fall over Rome.