Last Sunday,
two Popes were canonized by Pope Francis. I was there. With another seminarian,
I went to the Vatican around 00.15 and crossed the Angel’s Bridge at 00.49. Not
too far along the Via della Conciliazione between the Angel’s Fortress and St.
Peter’s Square, we found we could no longer advance, so we went back a short
distance and sat down in front of a screen.
People were
lying down on the ground on mats and in sleeping bags. Others had brought chairs.
A statue of the Blessed Virgin that stood to our right had been decorated with
a scarf that said ‘POLSKA’.
For some
reason, either because the crowd had gone back or because a new stretch of road
had opened, we found out that we could walk further, perhaps around 2am. At the
next screen, we debated whether we should go on or sit down. We went on, and
got stuck. That is how it started.
For about
seven hours, the two of us stood in a road full of people, with more and more
coming from behind. Groups around us sat down on chairs or on the ground, until
there was another small wave of forward motion and we could advance a number of
steps. We were carried along by the movement; the crowd was packed together
densely, with people pushing and shoving at every new surge.
Twice I almost
fell asleep standing and flailed, hitting the people around me, thankfully not
their heads. A third time my friend snapped his fingers in front of my face a
few times before I realized what was happening.
‘You can try
to sit if you like,’ he said, and I lowered myself to the ground (which was
difficult enough) for a short while. But he remained upright for a full twelve
hours or more.
Eventually we
were separated, but the periodic movement went on. In the early morning light, I
found that I was close to the first screen before St. Peter’s Square. Closer
was hardly possible. People kept coming in from and going away to the side of
the road, where more movement was possible; every time someone passed, I had to
shift my backpack; in the end I had to lift it above my head.
As this was
very inconvenient, I decided to forgo the place I had waited so long to obtain;
I went off to the side and walked back a short way, but still in sight of the
first screen. The view was not ideal where I ended up, but it was a bit quieter
and I could sit down for a while.
I suppose
there was great excitement when the Pope arrived, but I don’t remember; in my
fatigue, it all seemed rather muted.
Around ten
o’clock the canonization Mass started with the Litany of the Saints. The sound
was not properly synchronized; for every phrase there were two echoes, so that
it was difficult to hear or to sing along.
At the first
reading, a girl offered me a seat, for which I was very grateful. During the
Liturgy of the Word, many people were dozing off or simply sleeping. It seemed
ironic to me that those who had shown the greatest fervour in coming here were
the least able to participate in the actual Mass.
During the
homily, the kind girl next to me fell asleep, her body folded double. After a
while the lady on my other side asked if she was breathing. I did not check,
but said she was.
When everyone
rose for the Creed, the girl remained where she was. During the offertory, the
lady asked me again if she was breathing. Thinking that I had better make sure,
I shook her until she opened her eyes. ‘Are you all right?’ I said. ‘We were
worried for a second.’
She told me
that she was from Poland. I said I was from the Netherlands, and introduced
myself. She said her name was Dominika – which my mind translated as ‘the
Sunday girl’. Beautiful and apt.
Communion was
a holy chaos; sometimes people held up their hands to indicate they still
wanted to receive Communion; we had to wrestle and be pushed towards the
priest, and away from him after receiving. There was really no graceful way of
doing it.
I am still
glad to have been there for this once-in-a-lifetime event, though it feels like
I missed it mentally. Well, it has been recorded; I can watch it again. It was
worth the vigil, for the memory and the kindness exchanged.
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