How in the World Could the Pope Stop Terrorism?

There’s a right way and a wrong way to get attention for your cause.  Crashing the Pope’s New Year’s Day Mass in Peter’s Square, climbing onto the scaffolding and unfurling a banner that reads “Pope Stop Terrorism” is definitely the wrong way.

That’s what Romanian-born activist Julian Jungarean did, though.  And this isn’t the first time he’s made his point by trespassing on the higher levels of Vatican property.  He once scaled the Bernini colonnade, the great arms reaching out from St. Peter’s Basilica to embrace the Square.

I wonder just how, exactly, Jungarean expects Pope Benedict to stop terrorism.  Its perpetrators are not adherents of the Catholic Faith—but even if they were, one can argue that too many regular, pew-sitting Catholics are not particularly obedient to the Pope and to Church teaching.  In 2008, the Vatican established an “anti-terrorism squad” to protect the Pope and the Vatican from potential terrorist acts.  But why would terrorists, of the Islamic variety or others, stop their pillaging and plundering at the urging of the Roman Pontiff?

Good news:  No one was hurt in this escapade.  The Pope seemed, according to reports, to be surprised but not disturbed.  The Mass continued as scheduled.  The protestor was confronted by uniformed guards on the ground and on a nearby rooftop; but no weapons were drawn, and he was eventually safely brought to the ground and taken away.

Jonathan Swift’s New Year’s Resolutions

Jonathan Swift by the artist Charles Jervas

DAY TWO:  How are those New Year’s Resolutions coming?

You remember Jonathan Swift from your high school English class:  He penned Gulliver’s Travels and that classic satirical essay “A Modest Proposal,” in which he suggested that the poor should sell their children as food for the rich—thereby at once eliminating two social problems:  hunger, and children living in economic hardship.

The Anglo-Irish satirist, essayist, poet and cleric who served as Dean of Dublin’s St. Patrick’s Cathedral, wrote prolifically.  In A Tale of a Tub, which he wrote in 1699 at the age of 32, Swift compiled a list of 17 Resolutions, or aspirations for his future, which he titled “When  I come to be old.”  His list focused on admirable traits he hoped to acquire or strengthen:  wisdom, humility, patience and justice.   Only one resolution, “Not to be fond of Children,” caused me to raise my eyebrows.

Happy New Year!

When I come to be old. 1699. 

Not to marry a young Woman.
Not to keep young Company unless they reely desire it.
Not to be peevish or morose, or suspicious.
Not to scorn present Ways, or Wits, or Fashions, or Men, or War, &c.
Not to be fond of Children, or let them come near me hardly.
Not to tell the same story over and over to the same People.
Not to be covetous.
Not to neglect decency, or cleenlyness, for fear of falling into Nastyness.
Not to be over severe with young People, but give Allowances for their youthfull follyes and weaknesses.
Not to be influenced by, or give ear to knavish tatling servants, or others.
Not to be too free of advise, nor trouble any but those that desire it.
To desire some good Friends to inform me wch of these Resolutions I break, or neglect, and wherein; and reform accordingly.
Not to talk much, nor of my self.
Not to boast of my former beauty, or strength, or favor with Ladyes, &c.
Not to hearken to Flatteryes, nor conceive I can be beloved by a young woman, et eos qui hereditatem captant, odisse ac vitare.
Not to be positive or opiniative.
Not to sett up for observing all these Rules; for fear I should observe none