concistoro

A few weekends ago the pope named 23 new Cardinals. This only happens once every few years and much of the excitement surrounding the event occurs because the Apostolic Palace is open to the public for the Cardinals to greet people. It was only the promise of entering the Sala Regia that motivated me to withstand what would be ravenous crowds. There is nothing more viscious or fearsome than a crowd of catholics approaching the focus of their religious fervor. There are usually regular line cutters in the line to go to the Basilica (Chris has proposed that they are in a real hurry to get inside because they need to go to confession). I knew I had to do something to ease my entrance into the Papal apartments, so I attached myself to a group of seminarians wearing their cassocks. They in turn attached themselves to a Bishop. Certainly we got in easier than most people--in line to greet Cardinal DeNardo we heard stories of dresses being torn and elbows being thrown--but it was no picnic none the less. At first things seemed fine. We waited at one check point in front of a gate. A crowd began to form behind us and despite the protest of the guards that this was NOT the entrance, no one budged. As soon as the guard was relieved by someone else, he allowed the bishop to shepherd his group through. I began to breath a sigh of relief since I was near enough to see the Scala Regia which leads to the apartments. It wasn't over yet though. Suddenly the guard behind us let everyone through. People ran up all around us. There was no respect for the line that already existed. People climbed around columns and ran up around the sides to get as close as possible to the front. It was as if a dam had burst and people were flowing into every available space. It only got worse when they began to let a small number of people through to the staircase. The crowd pushed forward and people began streaming over the barrier that formed the left side of the line. We were all packed in like a sardines. One of the seminarians started saying, "This is how people get killed!" I remembered the nightclub fire several years ago where people were trampled to death. My father had warned me about going to nightclubs where such an event could happen. Little did he know the Basilica of San Pietro was far more dangerous. Luckily just as the thought of being trampled to death entered my mind, the Bishop managed to get through and pull us along with him. Safely on the other side of the line, I could breath. I was about to head up the Scala Regia when I looked around..where was my husband? I looked back at the mass of people and saw him a few feet back. He and one of the other seminarians had been left behind. I waved but they couldn't get to the front. The two policemen holding back the line simply with their imposing presence just shrugged their shoulders in the characteristicly Italian way which means, "What do you want me to do?" Just then a group of people led by a flag pushed forward. People in the line began screaming in protest. The police quickly stopped them but luckily this created enough space for Chris to reach the golf cart parked at the front of the line. He and the seminarian climbed over it and freed themselves. Inside most of the people made no pretense about greeting any of the Cardinals and whipped out their cameras to capture the frescoes. We made our way from room to room. We paused to gaze out of the window where the pope had appeared for the first time in public after his election to the papacy. It was enough to help us forget the insanity outside.