The Pope’s in Town

This is so funny!!

 

My whole life seems to involve around the Catholic church even when I’m trying not to be a part of it.

 

He’s here for WYD08 which translates out to World Youth Day, which, for the pilgrims, is more like World Youth Week, and for the volunteers and organisers is more like World Youth Month.

 

I did want to volunteer, as I love to volunteer, but then I got the hours of my shifts.

 

Considering that I live 2 hours travel from the heart of the city, their shifts proved impossible for me.  They expected me to arrive an hour early and begin my early morning shift at 5:30am, or end my lat night shift at 11:30pm!

 

Are they serious?!?  Get stuffed!!

 

No way do I intend to leave home at 2:30 in the bloody morning, or walk home at 1:30 in the early hours of the bloody morning!

 

I know God wants to test our loyalty for him, but I believe even God wouldn’t be that sadistic to me!  So I think he forgives me for giving this whole big event a miss.

 

Which is a bummer, because the volunteer uniforms looked as good as the Olympic uniforms for the Sydney 2000 Olympics, and after doing enough shifts, you get a little WYD08 pin (something I tend to collect is pins), and if you do all the shifts allotted to you, you’re invited to a special audience with the Pope where he personally thanks all the volunteers.

 

Well.. considering they’re hoping for 8,000 volunteers (ok.. minus me.. that makes 7,999), I wouldn’t say the audience would be very personal.

 

But it bugs me because of the past…

 

You see, my parents were married by a bishop who just happened to be visiting Australia from the Vatican at that time, he thought he’d do a couple of weddings apparently, and my parents happened to be one of them.

 

Years later, that same bishop happened to be visiting Australia again about the time I was due to be baptised. So, I was baptised by a bishop.

 

Then, when I had my first Holy Communion, that same bishop happened to be visiting once again, and had chosen the school I just happened to be going to for special services.  So my Holy Communion was performed by a Bishop.

 

What makes it all the more amazing is the fact that although my parents are both Hungarian, they met up in a country town in western NSW.

 

I was born (and no doubt baptised) in Subiaco Western Australia.

 

When I had my Holy Communion, it was in a school church in Leichhardt NSW.

 

Considering the chances of that same bishop, visiting 3 completely different areas of Australia, bumping into my parents each time, you can’t help be amazed at the odds.

 

So although I’m no longer Catholic, you can see how it would have been the ultimate experience for me to see the Pope up close and personal.

 

But that’s what tears me up.

 

He’s in Sydney, and there’s no hope of me getting within a mile of him personally!  Not when there’s upwards of 50,000 pilgrims all with the same plan in mind.

 

So here I am, sitting in my home, so close, and yet so far, to the Pope.  Can you see my frustration about this?

 

It just bugs me that the Pope’s in town, and I don’t get to see him in the flesh.

 

Well… I could.. if I wanted to be squeezed to death while stampeding along with the hundreds of other pilgrims in a massive sea of people..

 

When it comes to water, I’m in my element…

 

But when it comes to a sea of people… waves of sweaty flesh in multi-coloured clothes from all around the world….

 

…I could drown!