The Pope

1982 was a big year in many respects. Quincy Jones and Michael Jackson created the greatest album known to man – statistically speaking, the All Whites made their first World Cup, and Britain had its last Papal visit. 28 years on and the symmetry is surprising, with only Michael Jackson failing to recreate his heroics this year. Although his absence has an asterisk beside it.

Typically though, it was the Pope who stole the plaudits in 2010, and this year’s Papal Visit to the United Kingdom was not without plenty of them from the British equivalent of the Religious Right, featuring holy zealots and luminaries like the BBC and Sky TV whose wire to wire coverage stopped short of telling us when Benedict took a piss, but only just. As is the case in the Mother Country, there was a healthy voice of disapproval from a much smaller than anticipated faction of society who care enough to denounce the Holy Step Uncle and all that he defends and espouses. Yet it was hard to know just how big this faction was, since the pro-God team was so vociferous in its support; they were like the friend you have who wins arguments because he’s the loudest.

“aaah good afternoon… my name’s aah Benedict… and aaaah I’ll be your Pope on today’s flight”

But even before Bene touched down in Britain, his visit had the makings of a badly staged PR drive that had the fingerprints of those who looked after Tiger Woods’ affairs. One of the Pope’s right-hand men told a news source that landing at Heathrow is like entering the Third World, while Britain’s brand of aggressive atheism is a blight on the good name of God. Cue a shitstorm that only the British Press can whip up, and the Pope would be on the back foot immediately on arrival. And when you throw in the salivating hordes of journalists waiting to misquote him on his response to the seemingly systemic malpractice of his priests vis a vis children, you have a difficult introduction to a Britain that has changed greatly in 28 years.

So he read a statement to reporters on his plane as it was careening towards the UK, without the assistance of his right-hand guy who had to remain at the Vatican with an unholy case of gout, or the gout, as it should be known. The statement implied that he was upset at what had happened to the children around the world at the hands and other appendages of the priests who he chooses to hide, since, you know, it’s hard on them too. At least he is empathetic, because he is also eminently robotic, especially compared to his predecessor.

QUICK TANGENT: TOP 5 ALL TIME POPES

5. JOHN VIII (872-882 CE), the first Pope to be assassinated (poisoned then beaten to death).

4. BENEDICT IX (1032-1045 CE), the only person to be Pope more than once; three times to be specific.

3. ALEXANDER III (1159-1181 CE), the first lawyer to be elected Pope.

2. BONIFACE VI (896 CE), his one year reign was highlighted by the fact that when he was elected, he had already been defrocked twice for immoral behaviour. And he was made Pope anyway.

1. JOHN PAUL II (1978-2005 CE), second longest reign at 9,665 days, most travelled Pope, and probably the closest the Pope has come to transcending religion and resonating with the other half.

So back to Benedict XVI and his arrival, which in itself was odd because he was met by the Duke of Edinburgh on the tarmac. Odd because his visit wasn’t a state visit. It was just a four-day religious bender aimed at kicking the Poms into shape and rallying the silent mass of Roman Catholics within its Anglican borders. So why wasn’t it a state visit? And more importantly, why did the British Royals extend the olive branch to the Pope, since the two sides have been in disagreement for nearly 500 years? The bizarre visit delved into the weird when the Pope visited the Archbishop of Canterbury, as they shared prayer at Westminster Abbey. Weird because the Vatican doesn’t recognize the Anglican Church. Why should they? They aren’t Catholics; they’re heathens. And if they don’t recognize Anglicans, the Archbishop of Canterbury draws exactly as much religious water as you, or me, or Elton John. I can’t speak for you but The Arch, Elton and I don’t figure on the Vatican’s radar.

You might think it’s the sign of a new religious togetherness which shows that no matter what the faith, as long as it’s a God you vote for, you’re OK with me. But then the Catholic Church is fundamentalist by its very nature and history. And that extended to the reason for Benedict’s visit. He was here to preach to the British that today’s pick & mix morality is no good. It allows personal freedoms, but also lets people indulge in drugs, crime and probably rock & roll music on the gramophone. The bedrock of society is a strong religious ethos – a Catholic one – and Benedict was clear in his analysis that by choosing the easier route of laissez-faire morality, humanity has wandered down a path that will lead to self-destruction and harm for those who follow it. Society today, he implied, tempts us into money, freedom and self-serving enterprises, and away from salvation and the Catholic Church.

The Pope failed to mention whether the sexual assault of his priests, his church’s stance on homosexuality and their insistence that condoms do more harm than good had anything to do with people not sticking with the Vatican.

Nevertheless, he had a point. And plenty of people were there to see it. And just as hastily as he arrived, he was gone. He kissed babies and blessed thousands from the comfort of his £99,000 Mercedes, but after such an historically important visit there seems to be only one truly relevant question remaining: will he grow Catholicism in Britain as much as football in New Zealand or Thriller worldwide?