Advent songbird

I was on the Metro this morning, on a running-late train, minding my own business with my nose in my Washington Post. We were stopped at a station. The doors closed and a man's voice behind me said, "Good morning. Excuse me, please." And he began to sing.

A lovely tenor with a foreign accent, Middle Eastern or Indian maybe, but I never saw his face so I don't really know. He sang three verses of "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel." He was on key and he did a wonderful job. If you've ever tried to sing that song in public, believe me it's not easy. That song is a serious exercise in breath control!

He finished his song to some scattered applause, wished everyone in the car a blessed day, and left.

I never know quite what to think when something like that happens on the train. Sometimes it's a person who's a little unbalanced and it becomes an annoyance. And I always wonder what's going through other passengers' heads in this politically correct, relativistic world.

But sitting there listening to that song this morning, it made me grateful that I live in a place where that man could do that. For all the rhetoric in the world, he still has a right to do what he did, and there is still enough of a Christian bedrock in our society that no one booed him or told him to be quiet or otherwise prevented him from reminding us the true reason for the season.

Happy Advent!

Blessings of friendship

For anyone waiting for my musings on the election, don't worry, they're coming. Tomorrow.

But tonight I just have to celebrate friendship a little bit.

I happen to have a friend from college who entered the Poor Clares about a year and a half ago. She'd discerned that this was her vocation and she patiently waited for a number of years while she paid off her student loans before she was finally able to start her life with the sisters. Last Saturday, on the feast of All Saints, she became a novice, which means she received her habit and her new name. She also removed her shoes -- except for working or praying outside in their gardens, these Poor Clares go barefoot.

This afternoon a group of about two dozen friends got to visit with the new novice in the convent's parlor. The Poor Clares are cloistered, and according to old custom, our newly-minted sister visited with us from behind a fine wire screen. We could all see and hear each other, but we couldn't touch, couldn't hug. The closest we got was to touch palms through the screen; the warmth of our hands the only sensation of contact.

There was much laughter and scattered bits of personal and family news shared with the young woman none of us had seen since the Sunday before she entered the convent. But despite her new clothes and her new name (Sr. Marie Ancilla of our Holy Father Francis), the same sweet, silly, contemplative woman shown through.

It was truly a privilege to spend those 90 minutes that way, sharing in her obvious joy and seeing how the Lord was beginning to reshape her toward the mission to which He has called her. Of all the family members and friends she could have invited, I'll never know why I made the list, but I'm grateful for the gift of such a friendship.

Please pray for my friend, Sr. Ancilla ("ancilla" is Latin for "handmaid," a reference to Mary's "yes" to the angel's message that she would be the mother of the Savior). And know that she's praying for you, too.

What's really important

Like I said a few posts ago, I'm part of a two-woman team responsible for preparing 25 kids for some combination of the Catholic Church's sacraments of initiation (baptism, confirmation and Eucharist) in May. So far, the group is still exceptionally easy to manage. We'll see how they do at the end of the two-week hiatus we're currently enjoying.

It's hard to tell at this point how much they're absorbing what we're telling them. That "aha!" moment comes much later in the year.

But I had one of my own "aha!" moments last Saturday while I was reading the products of one of the "busy" assignments we give the kids at the start of each class. I had asked the class to write a thank-you note to God. At the end of every class, we go around the room and have the kids share one thing they're thankful for or one thing they're praying for...it's an introduction to praying. Most of the responses have something to do with "a great day," "life," "food," "good grades on a test," etc. Your basic stuff kids come up with when put on the spot.

But what I discovered while reading their thank-you notes was a stark contrast to what I expected to find. I'm thinking a group of mostly 8- to 10-year-olds are going to be thanking God for things like video games or a favorite toy.

Nope.

There were thank-yous for:

food
a roof over their heads
parents who give them what they need to do well in school
the ability to play soccer
good friends you can trust
family who loves them

These are basics. A reflection of the current mood of the nation? A factor of a 9-year-old's reaction to an assignment from his Sunday school teacher? I don't know.

But I do know that that kind of mentality is sorely needed in a lot of places in our world these days. Because it's those basics that form the foundation of a good life.

Autumn glory

I love this time of year. In this part of the world, the leaves just started to turn colors about a week ago. We're nowhere near peak, but I don't always like the peak of the color. I don't feel like I really get to appreciate all the different colors at peak.

But this time of year, it's like someone's taken a paint brush dipped in fire engine reds and flame oranges and lemon yellow, and dripped the paint on a hunter green canvas. They're little spots of color here and there that shock you when you run across them.

And it's just great!

Life on two wheels: Lessons for living II

The Tour: When riding in a huge pack of 180 riders like that, you can’t really see where you’re going. You’re eyes are glued on the wheel in front of you, and you have to trust that the guy in front of you is paying attention and won’t let you run into a curb or a traffic circle or a traffic island that could cause you to crash.

Life: Sometimes we have no choice but to pedal along on blind faith and trust, huh?

*** ***

The Tour: Even for the most fit, fine-tuned athletes in the world, riding thousands of miles day after day in the heat of the summer through valleys and over some of the highest mountains in the world in all kinds of weather, isn’t fun. In fact, long about the 12th day, the commentators all start talking about the pain and suffering the riders are beginning to feel…pain and suffering that doesn’t end until the last day in Paris. You have a choice – do you stop, step off your bike, and retreat to the safety of your team car? If you do, that’s it, you don’t get back on your bike the next day and continue on. Or do you grit your teeth and push through the pain because tomorrow’s stage might suit you better?

Life: Living hurts some times. It’s hard. But pushing through the pain – learning how to suffer – ultimately leads to an even greater reward.

*** ***

The Tour: When you’re riding in the pack or with a handful of teammates, there’s less work for you to do. And, thanks to the physics of it all, if you drop out the back of the pack, it can be almost impossible to catch up on some days, but you definitely will expend much more energy than you would otherwise.

Life: Stay in the boat! Life is a lot easier that way!

*** ***

The Tour: A moment’s inattention or distraction can mean disaster. That’s how most crashes happen – a glancing brush of wheels, a moment’s turn away from the road and you miss the traffic island, a slight miscalculation on a curve.

Life: It’s like that driving, too!

*** ***

The Tour: The leader of the Tour, the man in the yellow jersey, and his team, must defend the jersey. You will be attacked as the leader and if you want to keep your standing you have to fight for it.

Life: There are lots of things you work hard for and then have to protect to keep it. But those are the things that are usually worth fighting for.

Life on two wheels: Lessons on living I

The Tour: In the end, despite all the technological advances in the construction of the bicycles, aerodynamic improvements in bike helmets, new formulations in the nutrition bars and gels the riders eat while riding, etc., the only way for a rider to advance and become a better rider is to put in the work. In the end, it all comes down to the individual rider and his abilities.

**** ****

The Tour: On a team of 9 riders, everyone has a role. Sprinters are the fast guys…they don’t do mountains. Climbers live for the high peaks of the Alps, the 8 percent gradients and the thin air. All-around riders are good at just about everything, but they can either be a workhorse or the one everyone works for to give him a chance to win the entire race. And then there are the riders who spend three weeks as what is known as “domestiques.” They’re the ones who go back and forth between the front of the group and the team cars in the rear to ferry water bottles and food to the guys at the front. They likely will never win a stage, but without them the winner couldn’t win.

Life: Talk about unity among many parts. And what would we do without the servants among us?

*** ***

The Tour: The team leader, the guy with the best hopes of winning the race, historically, cannot win without the support of a team. A road race is technically won by one man, but the race isn’t a solitary activity. The sprinters need the help of their teammates to lead them out the front of the pack, give them a slipstream to follow before they break free and fly to the line. The climbers preferably need a teammate, but will settle for competitors, in the mountains to share the work of the climb. The winner needs a team around him to help him protect him from falls, to sacrifice their own bikes in the event of a mechanical malfunction, to help him preserve his energy by riding in their slipstreams.

Life: While you can go through life as a loner, it’s a lot easier and more enjoyable with help from family and friends, isn’t it?

*** ***

The Tour: Teammates will sacrifice everything for their team leader and, ultimately, for the team itself – water bottles, bikes, food, bodies whether by expending the last ounce of energy you’ve got or being the first one to hit the deck at a high speed (never on purpose, but you expose yourself to that danger).

Life: There are people in life that are worth sacrificing for. And no matter how much pain it brings you, sacrificing for those people brings benefits that far outweigh the suffering. And, on the flip side, as the person on the receiving end of the sacrifice, sometimes you have to let people serve you.

Life on two wheels: The chess game

For those unfamiliar, the Tour de France is the granddaddy of all road cycling races. It was the first tour and is the most storied. The riders, in teams of 9, strap on their helmets and get comfortable on their bikes for a three-week, 2,000-plus mile trip around France. There are 21 stages of an average 100 kilometers each day and two rest days where there is no racing.

There are flat stages that offer the best opportunities for the sprinters to win; there are two time trial stages that pit each rider against the clock…the fastest man wins; there are five mountain stages, divided among the Pyrenees and the Alps. To complete the Tour, all you have to do is finish each stage within the day’s time limit.

But to win the Tour, to climb the top step of the podium on the Champs Elyssees on the last day, to stand on that podium in the yellow jersey of the race’s leader, there are certain things that are necessary.

Of course, you have to put in the hours of training. You need a good bike and need to know something about the aerodynamics of your particular body on that bike. But you also need a team.

Cycling, a little contrary to what you might think, is a team sport.

And watching the team dynamics and the strategy – they don’t call the Tour a “chess game on two wheels” for nothing – has left me thinking about how much the Tour can teach life lessons and, in some ways, be a metaphor for life.What the next post are a few things I’ve noticed in the last three weeks. Some of these are applicable to a lot of sports, but I think this event sheds a particularly narrow light on these universal principles.

Life on two wheels: Mesmerized by the bikes

One of the great spectacles of sport ended today. The almost superhuman, epic journey of 180 men and their bicycles through the valleys, flats, hills and mountains of France known as the Tour de France. (And, I'll admit, that's one of the reasons for the lack of posting lately.)

It’s a beautiful event that has, sadly, been under a pretty dark cloud in the last few years as the transgressions of entirely too many have sullied the reputations, dreams and livelihoods of everyone else. But the three-week odyssey that ended with a triumphant circuit of the Champs Elysees in Paris, I believe, started a new chapter in its 100-plus year history this year with the rise of a number of impressive young riders and a handful of new teams that have taken a stand against the cheaters and for the beauty, integrity and courage of the sport.

I was first introduced to cycling three years ago while watching the final days leading up to Lance Armstrong’s final of seven straight victories in the Tour de France. It was a historic moment in the world of sports and I’m a sucker for historic moments. I never watch the World Series, but the year the Red Sox foiled the curse, I tuned in with everyone else. I never watch college basketball, but when George Mason went to the Big Dance, I watched, and I did the same for the University of Maryland’s women’s team when they won their first championship.

But after witnessing the end of the Armstrong era, I couldn’t help but tune in again the following July to find out who would step up…again, an historic moment in sports. I watched the tour from start to finish. I found myself glued to the TV every night for three weeks straight – mesmerized by the glory of the French countryside, the dazzle of 180 multi-colored jerseys flying through fields of sunflowers like a cloud neon Skittles, the drama of the sudden and sometimes spectacular crash, the dashed dreams, the heroic triumphs over injury and physical suffering.

And I was hooked. I’ve watched the last two years, start to finish, and I have to say no other sporting event captures my imagination quite like the Tour.

Civility lives

In addition to the random characters that abound on public transportation, every so often riding mass transit gives you a front row seat to some extraordinary acts of human kindness and civility. In a world where people are capable of walking past an elderly man lying in the street after being hit by a car, or ignoring a mentally-ill woman who's collapsed on the hospital waiting room floor, it's nice to know that people still notice each other.

I was on the Metro the other day, a few stops from mine. Living in this area there is often a smattering of military personnel in uniform riding the rails. On this particular day there was a young black woman in Army fatigues standing in the aisle next to my seat, peacefully zoning out a bit with her iPod. All of a sudden, out of a group of people further down in the car, comes this young white guy. He was maybe in his early 20s, maybe a little younger. Looked a little rough around the edges -- white t-shirt, raggedy black shorts, a biker's glove on his right hand. He walked up to the woman in uniform standing in the aisle and wordlessly stuck out his hand.

She looked at him a moment, took the earbuds out of her ears, and looked at him.
"Thank you," he said. She took his hand, and then he turned around and walked away.

I wasn't close enough to hear if she gave any response. But she put her earbuds back in and she and I both exited at the same stop.

It was a touching scene, especially because it took place in such an intimate space. This wasn't a crowded shopping mall or a bustling airport terminal. This was a subway car, a half-empty car at that, during the morning rush when there isn't usually much noise other than the scream of the air and screech of steel as the trains move through the tunnels. People are either reading their newspapers, catching a few more winks or zoning out on their iPods. In a word, this guy had a captive audience.

And yet there was something about this young soldier that prompted him to thank her for her service to her country. Something that transcended race, gender, feelings for or against the U.S. involvement in Iraq, and everything else that prevents people from reaching out to others in a show of human compassion and solidarity.

I think that something was this young man's sense of patriotism, yes, but also human decency. It is, afterall, polite and decent to thank someone when they've made a sacrifice for you, isn't it?

So just in case you were wondering, it does still exist.

Did I hear that right?

When I overheard this conversation last week on the shuttle to my building from the Metro, I almost couldn't believe my ears. I didn't think people actually talked like this outside the movies. But apparently somebody does.

Here are the snippets of the phone conversation. The names won't really make much sense because I wasn't actually taking notes. I typed this up when I got to my computer at work. It was just too priceless not to record. But it's what I overheard as another passenger, a young professional black man, was talking on his cell phone one morning.

So Storm and Quick are at the girl’s crib. They bounce from the crib to go to the store. To the PNC to localize it for ye.
Then Quick’s cell phone rings but he duzn’t hear anybody talkin’. It sounds like scuffling, like muffled movement. And then he hears this girl’s voice saying, ‘they’re fightin.’
So they bounce from the store and head back to his crib. They go up to the dude’s crib, up to his apartment. And there’s big guy on top of Quick….beatin’ him. So of course he jumps in ‘cause that’s his people.

They break it up or whatever and a course the police are called. And this dude’s arrested and charged with assault and robbery and sumthin else.

But it turns out that this dude was fightin’ with his girl and the fight got physical. Then she left the crib to go to this dude’s and then Quick followed her and kicked in the dude’s door. So the big dude was just defending his crib. This guy kicked down his door!

So it’s just ridiculous.

Still processing

So, it's been a week since the pope returned to Rome from his U.S. pilgrimage. And I had hoped by this time to post some thoughts/reflections/observations gleaned from personal experience and, especially, the pope's various public addresses. But I have to confess I'm still processing much of that.

I will say that I agree with the responses of many commentators who've said that Americans now feel like we've really gotten to know this pope. Prior to this visit, we knew him as he was portrayed in the media prior to his election as pope -- as the Vatican's doctrinal watchdog. Rather a gruff, unyielding caricature. And then, upon his ascendancy to the chair of Peter, we learned that this eminent theological scholar is actually quite shy. I remember noticing his stiffness and reserved manner in the early days of his pontificate.

But what I saw during his six-day trip to the U.S. was the gradual growth of a smile. I don't think I'd ever seen a real, genuine smile cross his face in any other public appearance....it always looked like this forced grin plastered on his face for the sake of manners and the cameras.

But during this trip, it warmed my heart to see him genuinely, warmly smiling on a number of occasions -- most involving greeting the general public. If there's one image that sticks in my mind, that's it.

Like I said, I'm still digesting the bulk of his speeches, but here are some one-liners, as it were, that have stuck out so far:

"Any tendency to treat religion as a private matter must be resisted." (address to U.S. bishops, I believe)

"Those who have hope must live different lives." (homily, Nationals Park Mass)

"What is God whispering to you?" (address to seminarians and young people, NY)

More pope photos/resources

Because I'm very proud of the work done by my colleagues, check out the Catholic Herald's Web site for more photos of the pope's time in D.C.:

www.catholicherald.com

Click on the "more photos" link on the right to see more shots. (Disclaimer: the "more photos" site is hosted by a third party; the Diocese of Arlington is NOT responsible for the advertising on that site.)

Also, if anyone's interested in reading some of what the pope said this week, check out the Vatican's Web site for the trip for texts in English.

everybody wants to see the pope

Opening of Papal Liturgy

The popemobile cometh!

Pictures from Nationals Park Mass

I'm breaking my rule about blogging from work.

But check out my photos from yesterday:

www.flickr.com/stephaniekatherine

Make sure to click to the second page. I'm still working on getting the video up.

Mass with the pope

Suffice it to say, the Mass this morning at Nationals Park in Washington was glorious.

The weather was picture perfect for the third day in a row (This has to be some kind of record for the D.C. area....I seriously want to know who the Archbishop of Washington had on his team praying for the weather this week....must have been the Poor Clares or something). The ballpark was in fact an outdoor cathedral...that wasn't just some analogy coined by the media. It was indeed a very prayerful atmosphere. The liturgy itself was simply beautiful -- flawless -- not a glitch to be seen.

I got some pretty good photos of the altar, a few shots of the popemobile on its ride around the stadium, and some video. But those are currently still on my colleague's camera.

And besides, this is about all you're gonna get out of me tonight. I was up at 4 a.m. to make it to the stadium. So further commentary and, hopefully, some pictures, will have to wait till the weekend.

The pope's words

It's been said all week by Catholic commentators leading up to the pope's visit -- this pope is a pope of words. John Paul II was very much a pope of gesture -- camera ready and very hard to misinterpret. Benedict XVI, however, is at heart a teacher -- not quite as readily translatable in our multimedia world, but badly needed nonetheless.

I'm reading his most recent encyclical, "Spe Salvi" (On Christian Hope) as I type. I meant to read it before he arrived, but I was a little busy getting ready for his arrival. But I'm also trying to listen closely to his speeches, and find the text to read again later. All in an effort to really hear his message.

There was a passage in his remarks at the White House this morning that I really liked:

Freedom is not only a gift, but also a summons to personal responsibility. Americans know this from experience – almost every town in this country has its monuments honoring those who sacrificed their lives in defense of freedom, both at home and abroad. The preservation of freedom calls for the cultivation of virtue, self-discipline, sacrifice for the common good and a sense of responsibility towards the less fortunate. It also demands the courage to engage in civic life and to bring one’s deepest beliefs and values to reasoned public debate. In a word, freedom is ever new. It is a challenge held out to each generation, and it must constantly be won over for the cause of good (cf. Spe Salvi, 24). Few have understood this as clearly as the late Pope John Paul II. In reflecting on the spiritual victory of freedom over totalitarianism in his native Poland and in eastern Europe, he reminded us that history shows, time and again, that “in a world without truth, freedom loses its foundation”, and a democracy without values can lose its very soul (cf. Centesimus Annus, 46). Those prophetic words in some sense echo the conviction of President Washington, expressed in his Farewell Address, that religion and morality represent “indispensable supports” of political prosperity.
The Church, for her part, wishes to contribute to building a world ever more worthy of the human person, created in the image and likeness of God (cf. Gen 1:26-27).

--Source: USCCB

I've bolded the phrases I found particularly profound. I especially like the phrase -- "in a world without truth, freedom loses its foundation," and a democracy without values can lose its very soul. It's a quote and paraphrase of the writings of John Paul II, but the words were particularly apt in that they were spoken this morning in the shadow of the White House and a presidential campaign.

I was also struck by the idea of "building a world ever more worthy of the human person." Wow. What dignity we have as human beings that the world must be made worthy of us by virtue of our sharing in the image of God.

Happy Birthday, Papa!

Well, D.C. rolled out the red carpet for the pope today, right down to the absolutely PERFECT weather (I'm serious, it really doesn't get any better than it was today) and the pothole-free popemobile route from the White House to the Vatican embassy (that's one way to get the D.C. streets fixed.)

The pope started his day with an adorable serenade of "Happy Birthday," in German no less, by a group of Catholic school students who were camped out across the road from the embassy's front door. To I think everyone's surprise (given the EXTREME security around him), the pope walked over to the group before getting in his car to thank them and shake some hands. I think he's been grinning from ear to ear all day.

At the White House, Papa B was treated to a beautiful rendition of the "Our Father" sung by opera star Kathleen Battle, and the President's Own along with their chorus offered a rousing "Battle Hymn of the Republic." The South Lawn of the White House was supposedly packed with about 9,000 people, all of whom spontaneously broke into yet another round of "Happy Birthday." It was clear that President Bush's speechwriters had done their homework as the president mentioned the need to fight against "the dictatorship of relativism" -- not only a key theme of this pope, but a quintesential phrase of Pope Benedict. The pope's remarks centered on the real meaning of freedom...full of lots of food for thought. (See related post.)

After the White House meeting, which I found out late today included a birthday cake and more singing, the popemobile made its first appearance. The streets were lined with people, but it looked like they were driving a little faster than most of us are used to seeing the popemobile move. In essence, it looked like a whole lot of people waited a long time this morning for all of about a 10-second glimpse.

This afternoon was the pope's meeting with the U.S. bishops at the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception. Incidentally, if you've never been there, go. It's on the level of St. Peter's in size and grandeur. Anyway, I didn't expect his address to be televised, but was pleasantly surprised to find his face on the TV when I got home tonight. He addressed just about every major issue on the table -- clergy sex abuse crisis, immigration, combatting secularism and relativism, vocations, etc. At the end of his address, he even took questions -- albeit prepared questions that he had corresponding prepared answers to (I think he's chosen to stick to prepared texts in an effort to avoid misinterpretation of off-the-cuff remarks in the media).

But what struck me tonight was how happy he looked. Toward the end of the meeting, it looked like age and jetlag were taking a bit of a toll, but he was so clearly enjoying himself! He seemed to have a decided spring in his step as he was leaving the shrine and heading back to the car.

So tomorrow's the BIG day! Mass for 45,000 people in Nationals Park. I'll be up at an ungodly hour tomorrow morning to be sure I get to the stadium and make it through security in plenty of time. The weather's supposed to be postcard perfect again...a bit warmer than today. I've been tasked with trying to find local folks to interview since our reporters are confined to their assigned media places on the field. As part of that I'll have a digital camera with me, so I'll hopefully have some pictures to post!

Welcome, Pope Benedict!

The pope is here! The pope is here!

After months of anticipation, Pope Benedict XVI arrived today at Andrews Air Force Base in Maryland 10 minutes ahead of schedule. And he stepped off the plane to be greeted not just by President Bush, Laura Bush and Jenna Bush, but clear blue skies, bright sunshine and a bit of a breeze. First time the weather's broken in the D.C. area in weeks!

We watched the papal arrival on TV in the office while trying to get this week's issue of the paper off to the printer. Granted, the TV was one of those rabbit-ear, black and white sets that won't work come next February, but the reception was better than what we were all able to get over our Internet connections.

It still strikes me to see the pope bounding down the stairs of an airplane and strolling across the tarmac. I'm too young to remember much of John Paul II's younger days. It just amazes me the energy this 80 (soon to be 81)-year-old has.

Anyway, the pope's safely tucked away at the Vatican embassy in D.C. and tomorrow starts the whirlwind of activity. I'm packing my patience for the Metro ride, and hoping to get to bed early tomorrow night ahead of the Mass at the stadium!

I'll keep you posted!

Pope Benedict XVI in the U.S.

As mentioned below, the pope is coming! He arrives in Washington Tuesday afternoon and will be here until early Friday morning. I'm not one of the credentialed media that will be traipsing around after the pontiff this week, but I work with two ladies who will be part of the pack. And, yes, I am one of the blessed 45,000 who has a ticket to the Mass at Nationals Park, so you can look forward to reading some firsthand accounts in this space.

If anyone's looking for some up-to-the-minute Catholic commentary on the visit, here are two good sites:

pope2008.com (blog maintained by the National Catholic Register)
American Papist (see the link on the right)

There's enough punditry and polls in the mainstream media right now to satisfy anyone's appetite for analysis of what this visit by the Holy Father may mean for American Catholics. Suffice it to say that most of what I've read of the pre-visit press has been decidedly negative -- Catholics don't agree with the pope; the Church in America is still reeling from the sex abuse scandal of 2002; young people are going to send the Church back to the 1950s, etc. Yes, we're a fiercely independent bunch, and yes, there are lots of us in this country that struggle with the demands of what the Church -- and therefore Christ -- asks of us. But I'm a little more hopeful than all that.

There's a lot of good going on in the Church now. I'm excited by what I see among my peers. It's about time we start living like Catholics, and stop being ashamed of what sets us apart. Our 2,000 years of tradition have a lot to offer a world that's lost its sense of the divine. Other groups with much louder voices, larger bully pulpits and deadlier strategies are flooding the airwaves and the culture with messages of hate, relativity and intolerance.

The world needs the message of hope that can only be brought by the truth of Jesus Christ. The truth that the Catholic Church has taught for centuries -- we have a God who loves us infinitely and desires only that we love him back, by obeying his laws and loving him in the people we see around us.

That, and nothing more, is what I expect to hear from Pope Benedict this week.

Daily giggle

I forgot to post about this last week. Here's a funny sight from the wilds of the D.C. area roadways.

I was stuck in traffic on I-66 westbound on a Friday night on my way out to my parents' house. We were at a crawl, as usual on that particular stretch. I was behind a white, older model pickup truck plastered on its back window and part of the tailgate with all manner of hunting stickers, fishing stickers and an assortment of "support the troops" ribbons.

Underneath the license plate and wedged on top of the hitch area was what looked like a 12-inch tall stuffed deer, positioned to look like it was sitting up. Can you say country boy? But wait, it gets better.

I didn't notice it at first, but every time the driver hit the brakes, something happened to the deer. It took a few times for me to really see it. The deer waved at me every time the driver applied the brakes. This deer was waving at me in traffic! One little front leg was flapping around in the air! I looked again, and a spot on its belly lit up, too, when the brakes went on...lit up bright red.

Every time the guy hit his brakes.

And who said Prince William County was becoming suburbanized...just an extension of the Fairfax County sprawl?

Not when there's those kind of people driving around on our roads! :)

The things you miss while on the subway train

I discovered today that you can miss a lot of what's going on in the world while you're on the subway train, riding the rails beneath the city.

No, I don't care about the latest disaster involving Britney Spears or Lindsay Lohan or Paris Hilton. Or which primetime TV show has been shelved because of the writer's strike.

This morning, while on the Metro getting to work, I missed the news that Joe Gibbs was retiring from coaching...from his second tour as the head coach and all-around class act of the highest magnitude of the Washington Redskins.

Joe Gibbs was the coach of my hometown's football team almost my entire life (he only missed a year or so) up until his first retirement. And I remember the sadness then that the region had at his departure. I also remember the excruciatingly painful seasons that followed as the team floundered. And I remember the euphoria that accompanied the legendary coach's return.

And, today, when I walked into my office and the first words anyone said to me were, "Joe Gibbs resigned." This was coming from a rabid Redskins fan in my office. I thought she was pulling my leg. But, alas, she wasn't. She insisted that the Redskins was one subject she wouldn't dream of joking about.

And so it's true. Once again Washington bids farewell to its favorite coach -- a man you can't help but respect, the dictionary definition of a class act.

I'm glad to see him setting an example for what's really important in life. But I won't lie and say that the start of the season next fall won't be bittersweet.

The miracle of democracy

...or the miracle of the American republic if you want to get especially precise with the terminology.

Tonight, as I type in fact, thousands of Iowans are trekking through the snow and cold that is their winter habitat to divide themselves in groups in school libraries, gymnasiums, community centers, etc., to declare their allegiance to one man or woman whom they believe should have the opportunity to become the next president of the United States.

At the start of its election cycle, the world's only remaining superpower, the wealthiest nation in the world, calls the citizens of one state to stand up for their candidate, in front of their neighbors, family members and perfect strangers. The rest of us, or at least the 20-some percent of us who choose to participate in the primary election process, will get our chances to caucus or vote by secret electronic ballot over the next few months.

I love watching politics and government work. As a reporter, I had ring-side seats to two full sessions and one special session of the Maryland General Assembly, arguably one of the most colorful political bodies in the country. Local government I could take or leave. But state and national politics are simply fascinating. Granted, the making of laws and sausages are still two things I don't think anyone should be forced to watch.

And I am weary already of the relentless media coverage of the horse race --- all sound and fury signifying nothing --- and the thought of another 10 months of that is rather nauseating.

But election night never fails to get me.

Right now, thousands of Kenyans are fleeing for their lives because accusations of a stolen election there have erupted into ethnic conflict.

In Iraq a few years back, Iraqis risked death by heading to the polls. Their political leaders still live in fear of assassination.

And in North Korea, Cuba, Myanmar and other countries around the world, the people don't have a voice.

We do. It is a horrible shame that more of us don't exercise this right of our citizenship. And, yes, our political system has its faults. (I still don't see the point of the electoral college, but I'll save that post for later this year. And don't get me started on the amount of money it takes these days to run a successful campaign.)

But when it comes down to it, for 219 years, we've elected the new leader of our country without bloodshed or national uprisings or the outbreak of civil war. And even with an election cycle as unpredictable as this one (the tightest primary race in recent memory), we're not worried about violence or turmoil.

No matter which party you belong to, or what you think of this nation's political, moral or ethical stance, that's something to be proud of.

Good luck, Iowa! And God bless us, everyone.