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“This blog is like a fusion of the Baroque ‘salon’ with its well-tuned harpsichord around which polite society gathered for entertainment and edification and, on the other hand, a Wild West “saloon” with its out-of-tune piano and swinging doors, where everyone has a gun and something to say. Nevertheless, we try to point our discussions back to what it is to be Catholic in this increasingly difficult age, to love God, and how to get to heaven.” – Fr. Z
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Has Benedict XVI revived this jacket, or did Paul VI never abolish this one?
I seem to remember Pope John Paul the Great wearing this overcoat.
“Kommen Sie, mein Freund, aus den Dunkleheit in das Licht!”
Hope this isn’t blasphemy, but, hum along now: Here comes the Son.
“Pretty fly for a (Bishop in)white guy”
This ankle-length double-breasted coat is called a “greca”. All other clerics use a black greca. Usually, these are used outside especially by higher prelates to cover the choir cassock. It is rather gauche to be out and a above with one’s choir cassock on without it being covered.
“The Hiilllls are alive…. with sacred music….
with chants that were sung… for a thousand years….”
^^^ John, LOL!
I was going to go for “You should have seen the one that got away, it was thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiisssss big!”
‘And then the Holy Father said, with a tip of his tiara to Monty Python, “And now for something completely…traditional.”‘
Now this side comes in: “Row, row, row your barque…”
Heard from the back of the crowd: “Hey, who ordered a pepperoni double cheese thin crust?”
“Oh, what a beautiful morning! Oh, what a beautiful day! I’ve got a wonderful feeel-ing . . . TLM’s going to stay!”
Or(to the tune of “The Sound of Music”),
“The Church will survive, with the sound of plain-chant, the songs we have sung for a thousand years . . .”
“Ah, Peter! There you are! I have been keeping your chair warm!”
“Look! Isn’t that Fr Z. jetting off to London again?”
“And here would be where my Christmas tree would be, if I ever had the time to buy one.”
“Domo Arigator Mr. Roboto…”
Oddly enough, I see the Pope and think of Enrico Caruso.
It was a story I read long ago, perhaps in Catholic Digest, of someone’s childhood in the early years of the 20th century.
Their father, an immigrant in the city, worked in a store that sold grammophones/victrolas, and records. A trustworthy employee, he was allowed to borrow a small player and records each Saturday night, and it was a treasured ritual in their family to pass Saturday night listening to beautiful music.
The cap to the ritual was always listening to one of the few records the family owned – a Caruso recording. Papa had known Caruso back in the old country. He had gone to meet him at a recording studio one day. He walked in the room just as the master reached a crescendo at the end of whatever piece of music it was. Caruso held out the note, turned and saw his friend, and greeted him lovingly and joyfully by name with a vocal flourish. The greeting made it onto the recording, which made it unsuitable for the commercial product. Papa asked Caruso if he could keep the record, and so he did.
So, when I see the Pope raising his arm, extending his open hand, a look of joy on his face, as if a dear friend had just walked in the room… I think of Papa and Caruso.
“Cheese, glorious cheese!”
Come my fellow Catholics, Let me show you how to Sing in Exhaltation.
A very modern-looking, Annie Liebowitz-style photograph. Benedict XVI — The Rolling Stone Interview?