The Pope has resigned.
It was my first day of class on crutches, which was a degree of miserable that I'm not looking forward to again. Latin was interrupted by news that Benedict intends to retire by the end of the month (well, on the last day of the month). Mr. Arrington read his (the Pope's) letter from the Vatican radio website. It reminded me of September 11th, when I was in second grade, and we were grouped into the school hall and sent home. No one really had any idea what was going on or what to do. Mr Arrington let class out early- we all resolved instantly to go to the Ash Wednesday Mass at S. Sabina, even if it means taking me in a wheel chair.
Monsignor Soseman indicated that it wasn't true and told us not to trust Italian press, but moved class so we could get to Mass anyway.
I guess I'm not going to Seville for Holy Week. It must be providential that we are here now, to see Pope Benedict resigned (the first Pope to resign since 1214), to see the white smoke, to celebrate Easter with the new pope, whoever he is. It feels half like the blue prints of history and half like a very bizarre joke.
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