Viva Benedetto!

Wow.
What an experience.
There's the good and the bad with every adventure, and this one was no different. However, I feel I've dwelt much too much on the negative. I'm working on memorializing the great things that happened.
The joyful aura that surrounded every person from every different country (I met Venezuelans, Indians, Irishmen, many awesome Aussies, Vietnamese, South Koreans, Africans, Italians, lots of Germans, Mexicans...) will be something I'll always remember. These are few among my fond memories: the Spanish-speaking people walking the five mile pilgrimage through Sydney strumming guitars and singing happily; the "Benedetto!" and "Viva el Papa!" chants; the construction workers high up on a building, blowing their whistles and clapping to our music and WYD chants. Then there was my completely ethereal experience of High Mass in Sydney.

Now here's the icing on the cake.
I've not ever told anyone about this, but I was heartbroken over the death of our beloved JPII. He was my Pope. I never got to see him, I only knew of his life and heard his words, but I loved him heart and soul.
I wasn't interested in the election of a new pope. I didn't much care. And when I first saw and heard of Pope Benedict XVI, I didn't like him much. I'm a little ashamed to admit that, but it's true.

But in Sydney, I heard him speak... and it was like he was speaking just to me. He wasn't cold and harsh like I'd previously imagined (he is German after all...) He was brilliant and straightforward and intense. But he was also incredibly warm. He spoke to us, the Catholic youth, and you could hear the honesty and sincerity in his voice. You could truly believe he meant every word and his encouragements to us were heartfelt.
Maybe this sounds obvious. But it was an awakening for me. It was a new realization.
The cardinal in Sydney remarked upon the general surprise regarding the theme that the Holy Father picked for WYD 2008. He said it was probably the least likely on the list of themes to choose from. But I think I know why he picked the one he did.

"You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses." Acts 1:8

He challenged us at the final, Papal Mass that Sunday. We, the Catholic youth of the World, are charged with being witnesses of this special gift, our Faith. And just as the apostles, lonely and afraid in that upper room were given courage, confidence and a literal fire to spread the Good News, so are we given. We are given so much!

So when the Holy Father came around the race track where we all stood, straining to catch a glimpse and pressed close together against the barrier... as he drove past in his pope-mobile and blessed us, I jumped up and down. I cheered and I cried; I couldn't believe it, there he was!

He's the Bishop of Rome, the Vicar of Christ on Earth, the Successor of Peter.
But until that trip, he never felt like my Pope, not like JPII was. Now he is. He's my Pope.