The Barque Rocks On
One thousand nine hundred eighty one years in existence.... Two hundred sixty-six occupants.... A line that encompasses great saints and walking scandals both, and every historical circumstance from the glories of human empire and the magnificence of monument to bloody rivers of war, imprisonment and persecution.
Just on the turns of the ages, even a nonbeliever can marvel at the papacy, and especially at the big moments, no shortage do. And for everything else that's surrounded it for close to two millennia, perhaps that's the greatest miracle of all – not that the institution founded upon Peter merely still exists, but how, whether in the heights of affection or political drives for its occupant's suppression, it's retained its relevance, recovering from the lulls as little more than a fleeting spell.
Indeed, just when it was supposedly rational to think that another spin of the wheel really could be curtains, all of a sudden, a new springtime dawns again....
Two thousand years later, just further proof that Somebody knew what He was doing at the start.
Buona festa to one and all.