Posted on 11/08/2005 7:01:20 PM PST by Antioch
posted 07/11/05 The big news story in Moscow today is that former Russian Prime Minister Mikhail Kasyanov is being investigated for land fraud by Russian prosecutors. The fact that he is also considered one of the leaders of the liberal opposition to the Putin Administration is purely coincidental ;-)
The big news story as far as I was concerned personally was the interesting package in the mail that I received on my desk this morning. No, it wasn't a bomb (although my editor is no doubt very tempted to send one! ;-) It was a long package bearing the Vatican postal mark and Vatican postage stamps (these new stamps bearing the image of the new Pope Benedict XVI will have to go into my collection). And also the return addressee's name was very interesting. It was the Rev. Father Georg Gaenswein.
Now the name of Father Georg Gaenswein may not mean much to most of you but to those of us in the international press corps, the name is immediately recognizable. It's the name of the Private Secretary to His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI.
What would I be doing receiving a package from the private secretary to His Holiness? This was either indeed a bomb (from a jihadi with a very twisted sense of humour!) or a practical joke (Colin my boy-- my practical joke loving cousin from Killarney)-- you've gone a wee bit too far this time!
I say a quick Hail Mary and open up the package thinking that this may be my last action on this earth-- inside was a box and inside the box was a bottle of Old Bushmills Irish Whiskey (ah sure, 'tis the finest whiskey of them all-- 'tis what the leprechauns drink and their urine turns to pure gold afterwards!). Inside was a note personally signed by Father Ganswein (I shan't be throwing that note away in the foreseeable future!) and all it said was "His Holiness remembers the bet".
At that, I roared and roared with laughter. It was a good thing His Holiness remembered the bet because by Saint Kevin and Saint Patrick I certainly didn't remember!
Eight years ago in addition to my reporting duties, I was also the literary critic and reviewer for my newspaper. That year of 1997, Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger the then Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith was having his autobiography (a book entitled Milestones) published. The book launch was in Rome and the paper was sending me to cover it. I'm not one to turn down an all-expenses paid trip to Rome so of course I went.
At the launch, I had the privilege of meeting His Eminence the then Cardinal Ratzinger. It was with a group of other reporters and we all stood milling around the silver haired fox of the Vatican. The conversation was fairly cordial until one of the reporters made a major faux pas. The LA Times' Vatican correspondent being your typical Californian (in other words a complete dolt and total jackass!) asked His Eminence, "So when do you think the current Holy Father will die?". There was a long pause in the conversation. Finally His Eminence spoke in all graciousness, "His Holiness will be around for a long time to come." Not wanting to be left behind in lack of class, the LA Times correspondent went on, "Who do you think will be the next Pope?". Another pause in conversation. His Eminence then shrugged and said, "It's in God's hands."
However at that moment, many of the reporters started interjecting the names of various Cardinals on who they thought would be the next Pope. And it was no doubt the warm bubbly effervescent effect of that delicious Italian red sparkling wine (to say nothing of the effect of that dry white Rhine wine) we were served but I suddenly blurted out, "Maybe the next Pope will be you, your Eminence."
This led to an even longer pause in conversation as well as expressions of shock (not to mention utter horror!) on the faces of my fellow journalists. Cardinal Ratzinger looked at me with much the same sort of expression that Christ must have had on His face when He told Peter, "Get thee behind me, Satan." Finally His Eminence spoke with a bit of a twinkle in his eyes, "There's not much chance of that happening."
"Better a copy of your book, a MILESTONE around your neck than the Papacy then?" I made a bad pun of a Scriptural expression.
The Cardinal smiled an amused smile, "You could say that I suppose. But not much chance of me becoming the next Pope."
I'm not sure whether it was the effect of the sparkling Italian or the dry Rhine (or a possible longing for Guiness) but I then blurted out, "Wanna bet on it?".
This led to the longest pause of all and the eyes of the world's press corps were upon me to say nothing of the eyes of the man who had been dubbed the Grand Inquisitor.
Finally His Eminence laughed, "Well, you know the Church frowns upon gambling but seeing as how you're Irish and the Church at some point in Her history must have granted the Irish a special dispensation to gamble since your people gamble so much, I'm willing to make an exception in your case. What's the wager?".
"How about a premiere bottle of the best Bushmills whiskey?" I replied thinking that His Eminence was joking.
"Done," he said and we shook hands on it.
Later as I was leaving, a priest came up to me, "His Eminence wants to know how to get in touch with you in case of you know you win the bet."
I laughed thinking it was a continuation of the joke but I gave both my home address and my work address to the priest and left.
It's a good thing I've worked for the same newspaper all these years. Because my home address has changed several times since then but it's always been the same home office-- the same workplace headquarters.
And how many people can claim they've been sent a bottle of Bushmills Whiskey from the Holy Father himself? Imagine if that Belfast bigot the Rev. Ian Paisley found out. Already I can see him thundering from his pulpit in his Free Presbyterian Church in Belfast next Sunday, "Not only is the Vatican the Whore of Babylon but it's also a den of gambling and a purveyor of godless drink throughout the world."
Even the small doses from that bottle shall cure ailments, while the mere sight of it shall suffice to cast devils out. I could envision it being carried around in a solemn procession.
Leave it to an Irishman to get a bottle of bushmill with a blessing from the holy father!!!! :)
Not to meation this reporter has a great taste in Whiskey.
(aw says as he pours two fingers of 10yr old bushmills)
You are right. The pope may be infallible, but me uncle Skinner is incredible! ;-)
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