Blue and Black: My Reflection on His Holiness Benedict XVI

I have seen the Holy Father Emeritus four times during his reign; as in seen his physical person not just through a television screen.  Each of those moments are very special to me and part of an important event in my life.  Each of those moments, and a few others, I wore blue and black.  I never had the intention to wear that color scheme and now I can't help but associate those colors with him.

I am part of that generation that grew up with Pope Blessed John Paul II, the charismatic pope with a great love for the youth.  To me, and I'm sure many others, he felt like the grandfather we couldn't wait to visit or listen to one of his stories.  I'm not ashamed to say that I cried when he passed away and I know I wasn't the only one who did.  I got up early to watch his funeral and I will admit that I dosed off a few times despite my best efforts (this was before I fell into the common addiction of coffee).  Then I watched with great wonder my first conclave whenever I wasn't in school or at work.

On the day of white smoke and bells was also the day of National Honor Society Inductions.  I was already a member so I got to sit on stage and be dressed in my Sunday best, a blue skirt and a black blouse, which I much preferred to the khaki pants and ill fitted polo of the school uniform.  After some begging, pleading and convincing the teacher of that period turned on the television and I watched as Cardinal Ratzinger, now Benedict XVI, stepped out onto the balcony. A humble worker in God's vineyard.

Later that year (after a year of saving and asking relations to lieu of Christmas gifts to send monies for the trip) I got to go to World Youth Day.  That year it was being hosted in Cologne, Germany which brought an extra meaning to me since I hadn't been to that country since I was born.  I always wanted to go to World Youth Day since I was really young and the fact that it was in Germany was an extra layer of awesome on my epic cake.  This was the first time I saw Benedict XVI without the aid of a TV screen.  I watched the tiny Pontiff in the distance give the final blessing of the last Mass of WYD, I bowed my head and noticed that my black chapel veil was about to slide from my neck.  I wrapped it more securely around my neck and zipped my blue windbreaker closed.

In my college career I transferred once and my first year at my second college was particularly difficult due to miscommunications, misunderstandings, and bias.  During this dark time for me fifty tickets were donated to the school for the Papal Mass that was held at the National Stadium for Benedict XVI's visit to the US.  A drawing was held amongst the students and I put my name in.  On a day filled with tears and hurt, I was told I won one of the fifty tickets.  The smile felt odd after not having one for so long, but it felt good to do it again.

I dressed in the wee hours of the morning the day of the Mass.  Oddly enough, as I looked in the mirror double checking everything, I was wearing the skirt I wore when Habemus Papam was announced; a different blouse but still black.  A bus ride, a trek through the Metro than a shuffle in the crowd I sat in the newly built baseball stadium to have Mass.

One of the better snap shots I got of Pope Benedict XVI.

The same college offered the opportunity to study in Rome for a semester and I took it.   Whilst there my classmates and I were able to attend a Wednesday Audience.  It was outside in St Peter's Square (or circle if you want to get technical about it). I waved enthusiastically as Benedict XVI rode by in the pope-mobile. He knew my school and we got a smile of recognition from  him and almost a two handed waved, but he had to re-grab the bar to keep his balance. My smile grew bigger and my teeth showed.  I sat and listen to talk about St John Leonardi.  He ended his talk with words of encouragement and a blessing.  As he gave his blessing I fiddle with a rosary bracelet around my left wrist.  It had blue and black beads with a medal of the Immaculate Conception.

The owner of the hotel where we were staying was able to get his hands on ticket to the Mass for the Conclusion of the Second Assembly for African of the Synod of Bishops.  Did I want one?  Yes, please!  Not realizing the change in time due to daylights savings, I got up earlier than I had intended.  It was a happy accident as I ended up inside St Peter's Basilica for Mass.  On a side note, the insides are even more awe inspiring when all the lights are on.  I sat at the very end of the row near the front section for the general public resulting in being less than five feet from the Cardinals and the Holy Father himself.  Throughout the Mass two Swiss guards took their posts next to where I sat so I got a good look at the stitching in their colorful uniform.  It was cool that morning and I grabbed a scarf I had purchased in Florence to keep away the chill, which doubled as a chapel veil for me; the scarf was mostly blue and black weaved together to create a design. 

I was just as surprised as anyone when Benedict XVI announced his abdication.  Let me first state that I wish him the best in his new life of prayer and solitude.  On his official last day I had to work, but I was able to schedule my lunch around the time he stepped down so I could pray for him and the next Pope.  I stared at my feet propped up in another chair and then down to what I was wearing; my blue work shirt over a black dress, all cinched with a black belt.  That's when it hit me - blue, black and Benedict XVI.  A strange connection I will admit, some may call it even flimsy, but there it is.

As Pope Blessed John Paul II was the Pope of my youth, Pope Benedict XVI was the Pope of my intellectual development.  In his homily at the closing Mass of his first World Youth Day he said, "In vast areas of the world today there is a strange forgetfulness of God. It seems as if everything would be just the same even without him.  But at the same time there is a feeling of frustration, a sense of dissatisfaction with everyone and everything."  He then encouraged us to "[h]elp people to discover the true star which points out the way to us:  Jesus Christ! Let us seek to know him better and better, so as to be able to guide others to him with conviction."

I saw first hand the forgetfulness that Benedict XVI talked about; with people in my own generation it has resulted from simply not being taught because the two generations ago misunderstood the intention of a Church Council.  In a fit of frustration after a particularly bad religion class I made a deal with God.  If He did not want me to major in Theology in college He would have to lead me in another direction.  From that point to when I declared my major there was nothing that really pushed me away from that degree and thus I now have a BA in Sacred Theology.  Before you ask - I'm not gonna be a priest or preacher!!  You would be amazed how often I'm asked that when people find out my major.

I'm not sure how well I'm leading others to Christ.  I can only hope that I can implant seeds of truth the the minds of those who wish to ignore it because it makes them uncomfortable.  Maybe one day those seeds will bloom into something or at least never leave them.

Today, if one was to take a look at my wardrobe, one would fine a lot of black and blue.  Because of that silly little connection I unknowingly made with those colors and Benedict XVI, I find that I am drawn to them without even thinking about it.  We all find comfort in things; for some it's in a little trinket left to us by someone we love, for others it maybe sharing a pint of ice cream with a friend with one spoon. My comfort is found in the colors blue and black; not in the colors themselves, mind you, but in what they have come to represent to me.

(In case if anyone was wondering, I was wearing brown when Pope Francis was elected.  There's a Franciscan joke in there somewhere, I just can't find it.)