Meeting halfway.
This was yesterday afternoon.
Uncle Albert comes stumping down the stairs. Dangerously because he is talking at the same time; he is stumping down, and he is talking - in German.
“Der Ratzinger spricht, der hat gesprochen, der geht weiter.” Then, arriving safely: “Forgive mein schreckliches Deutsch. The Cardinal speaks, the Pope has spoken. Like the finger the old man moves on - aber nicht aus. He retires, but he will not go away.”
“What?” I said.
“Belshazzar’s feast via Edward Fitzgerald.”
“It’s the Edmund Fitzgerald,” I said.
 |
| Johnny Nash and Gordon Lightfoot meet halfway, 1974. |
“I see,” I said. I didn’t.
“Ratzinger is afraid that the new Pope - the Argentine - is going off in all the wrong directions and taking Holy Mother Church, taking . . . what’s the German for Faith, with a capital-F?”
“Der Glaube,” I said, “with a capital-G. Of course, all nouns are capitalized.”
“I know that. Der? Not die?”
“Yes, der.”
“Der Glaube. The new guy is misleading die Glaubvoll, perverting the Whole verdammte Shooting Match.”
“Francis.”
“Yes, still the new guy.”
“I see,” I said. I didn’t. Or I did but only in part (not face-to-face). I saw but not what it had to do with anything.
“Humanism,” Uncle Albert said. “A humanist ideology threatens him, then it threatens it all. All.”
“You should sit down,” I said. Uncle Albert sat down.
“‘A crisis of Christian existence,’” he said. “And the papa emeritus should know even if he retired because he could no longer see clearly.”
“The rain wasn’t gone,” I said.
“What year are you stuck in?” Uncle Albert asked.
“No, I see,” I said. And I did though what it had to do with anything I did not see.
“But you don’t care,” Uncle Albert said.
“I’m afraid not much,” I said.
“Would you like something to drink?” I asked.
He nodded.
I waited.
“Just some orange juice,” he said.
“I’ll go see if we have any.”
Later, I looked it up. The answer was: Somewhere between 1972 and 1976.
05.05.20
No comments:
Post a Comment