Experiencing the beauty of historical times...

I have almost always been able to feel the moment when a historical thing happens. Most are slam dunks of course. Moon landings, pope's dying, etc., etc. But also of the micro-historical, being in a place that 400 years ago people, so much like me, walked here, lived here, made love here, died here.

When I was traveling through my nihilist period I lost that sense, but, believe it or not, regained it at an Oktoberfest while dancing to a never-ending polka. That moment of dancing, with a fetching young woman, the release of energy, the swirling of the world, reminded me of the importance of beauty and the feeling that I was, in a very micro sense, living history, that 50 years hence, someone else will experience, what I just now felt and sensed. Everyday I was alive I was living history, making history and witnessing history. I needed to soak it all in in this tiny time I have on earth. Swear to God...it happened.

Anyway, for all it's ugliness, history is a very beautiful thing. It is to be re-minded of one's ancestors, to read of the exploits of Man, and to live it, is a thing of extreme and intense beauty.

And so it was this morning when the news of a new Pope came out over the radio.

As I was heading into the parking lot here at work the local news had switched to the CNN broadcast and the excited voice of Vatican correspondent John Allen announcing that the curtains to the balcony had opened. I quickly parked the car turned off the engine and listened.

I have read a couple of accounts on the formal announcement of a new Pope and have been thrilled trying to put myself there, in that place, but thanks to the old Marconi, I WAS there, in THAT place, NOW...and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end at the enormity of it. The voice calling out in four languages that a new pope was being introduced to the world shook me and at the ancient words "Habemus Papam" I wept.

To hear the crowd chant, "Benedict, Benedict" as the new pope spoke to them brought me to tears yet again.

This is beautiful history as it was meant to be experienced. I'm going home to share it with my wife and kids...and anyone else who may care to listen...

It has been a remarkable few weeks in the life of the Church. It has gone from mourning to daybreak. The Son is shining...better wear some shades.