Today I Saw The Pope/Why Nuns Hate Me

Today I went to Holy Thursday Mass for the last supper lead by Pope Benedict XVI as a part of Holy Week. It was held across the street from my apartment in San Giovanni in Lateran. Now, I’m not a religious person and I’ve never followed the Catholic faith except for educational purposes in high school. I’m agnostic, because you never can be too sure about the world, but if there is a god, I certainly don’t believe in all the ceremonious aspects of worship for it.

However, the point is, I heard the Pope was comin’ and I wanted to go.

The group I was going with decided it was best to go and wait around three, since it started at five thirty. Sounded smart, right? Wrong. Ends up we weren’t getting past the guards unless we had tickets. A kindly gentleman informed us he got his three months ago, and there was no chance we were getting in. However, we could try the American tourist office, but they probably wouldn’t have any left either.

Game plan: I rushed back to the apartment to make some calls to the Vatican and Google the tourist office while the rest questioned the crowd for extra tickets.

Result: there is no such thing as an American tourist office in Rome and the Vatican doesn’t like answering their phone, or advertising the fact that you actually need tickets for today’s mass on their webpage. Luckily, the rest had more luck. After a nun changed her mind about giving them her extra tickets, a lady with stacks of tickets in her hands gave us seven, the perfect amount to get us all in.

Now, it is a well known fact that the Italians don’t believe in lines. They are aware of them, and draw pictures of people lining up nicely in their language books, but they never practice the idea. This meant that getting into San Giovanni was harder then getting to the front of a mosh pit and the people were certainly meaner, going so far as to push tiny nuns out of the way. But somehow we made it inside, and after more pushing and shoving, managed to get seats in the center section of the church. We were all split up, as a priest picked people out of the crowd and showed them to open spots. I was placed next to a group of nuns and priests-in-training all the way in the back of the basilica. Lovely.

I’ve never been to mass. I also can’t read Italian. I found out later that at some point the Pope said all Catholics are called upon a “constant examination of conscience”, which was his indirect way of mentioning the recent church scandals. But other than that I had absolutely no clue what was going on and the guide booklet they gave me was absolutely no help at all.


A Confused Guide to Mass:
Did you know there was a choir? Yes, apparently they are hidden very well from your vision behind a column, so be prepared to freak out as haunting music suddenly fills the basilica. All the words are in the guide booklet, but you won’t know that until the nun elbows you in the ribs. Be prepared to sing along when the red letters say “L’assemblea ripete” or the nuns will become more focused on you than the Mass.

Singing, chanting, singing, talking, singing, chanting, talking, singing, stand up, sit down, stand up, sit down. This goes on for a while, maybe an hour, until the Pope decides it’s time to speak up. Unfortunately whatever it is he says will fall on deaf ears because it’s not translated and isn’t even in the guide booklet. It must have been good though, because people begin shuffling around in their seats, forming the cross on themselves, and looking to the heavens passionately. Good for you Pope, way to rock it.

Suddenly everyone gets to their knees and you follow suit. It’s time for prayer, so rest your hands on the chair in front of you, tilt your head ever so slightly down, and utilize the time to get a good look at the church and the cardinals, as this is the only time that tall guy in front of you is shorter.

What’s this? Greek? Yup, just when some of the Latin starts to make sense they decide to switch it up a little, keeping you on your toes. Cue fantasizing about being a badass secret agent in Rome. And now for a new trick: English! Yup, suddenly English pours out of the speakers explaining that the collection is going around and that the Pope asks it to be donated to rebuilding a church in Haiti. A long silence passes as the collected envelopes are presented to him. Happily, Mass continues on, this time with a complicated dance of a group of priests switching places at the podium to say a very short paragraph in their native language.

English: For all Priests, ministers of Christ the teacher, priest, and pastor: that, by their service, they might build up the People of God, which is the Church, into a holy temple of the Spirit.

It’s said in an Irish accent, and I’m not quite sure what he meant by it, but it was very relieving to understand words for once.

We go back to our old routine of chanting, talking, and singing, with some shuffling of the Vatican crew every once in a while for some reason. At one point the Pope walks to twelve priests, ceremoniously washing their feet, probably as a sign of humility or something to do with the last supper.

until we come to Communion, which you have totally forgotten exists. Old men dressed in white shuffle down the fenced off center aisle to give the entire audience a wafer. What does it taste like? Should you get one? No, that wouldn’t be a good idea, you’re not Catholic, so just calmly sit down and---woa! Apparently that nun next to you doesn’t think that’s a good idea and she certainly won’t take the whole “seriously, I’m NOT Christian” excuse for an answer. She shoves you right up to the front and pushes you till you open your mouth, glaring back at her. The priest asks a question involving Jesus and puts the wafer in your mouth, wait, did you just accept Jesus or something? That doesn’t matter right now, because the wafer tastes god awful! Swallow it quick as you stumble back to your chair.

The chorus starts up again followed by more prayer. Note: NEVER wear a dress and tights to Mass. The floor is marble and so is freezing and hard on the knees. It’s okay to give up at some point though, because the next prayer is two pages long and your reputation with the nuns can’t get much worse.

Bells ring out for a good five minutes. It’s hard to tell what to do here, or what it all means as everyone is staring ahead, stoic.

Finally, the assembly up front rises as a golden cross is carried forth. They form a line and follow it down the steps and to a room at the far left. You’re supposed to be singing during this, but barely anyone is as a massive scramble for cellphones and cameras ensues. Don’t worry, you’ll know that tiny blur amongst the crowd in your picture was the Pope. Besides, who needs clear close photography when there is Photoshop?

People begin to leave and half is nearly out the door when the procession appears again, heading to the door on the right. Luckily you’ve figured out enough Italian to read the part of the guide booklet informing you of this maneuver and have moved forward in the church to get a good look. Ends up the popester is a rather short fellow though, but at least you got a good look at the random golden umbrella that oddly follows him around. Success.