SOUNDS OF GOODNESS

For a brief moment in time, tens of thousands of people stood in St. Peter’s Square to await the announcement and appearance of the new Pope. After the announcement was made, and as Pope Leo XIV stood before the thunderous crowd, people from every walk of life cried, prayed, celebrated, worshipped, and expressed unbridled love for the man most had never seen before that moment.

St. Peter’s Square was, for that brief moment, a place of absolute goodness. There was not a single sin or one evil thought among the faithful and non-faithful who stood embraced by the utter joy of those around them. It was as though the world, for that brief moment, stood at the precipice of what it could be, and removed from what it truly is.

As he stood, solemn with the trace of a smile etched into a gentle face, Pope Leo XIV represented every decent ideal humankind has conceived but failed to realize throughout the world each and every moment of the day. It was as though God himself had appeared and assured the faithful, “I am alive.”

For a brief moment, Pope Leo silenced the presence of every murderous dictator, every authoritarian ruler, every King, and every wannabe tyrant who currently rule over 70 percent of the world’s population. Each and every one of these evil rulers craves from the bottom of their miserable hearts a moment like Pope Leo enjoyed.

We’ve even seen rulers Photoshop pictures of themselves dressed like the Pope to create an illusion of divine authority. But unlike Pope Leo who received immeasurable love from the people he leads, these pictures received ridicule, anger, contempt, and hatred from the people they rule.

I don’t know if, after death, we walk through the Pearly Gates into an eternity of peace and bliss or through the Gates of Hell where an eternity in a burning inferno awaits. I try not to spend much of a brief moment thinking about either prospect because I have no control over either prospect.

The Pope has receded from the worshipped moment. The world has returned to the rule of the abnormal. The crazy shit of survival awaited each of us this morning as our consciousness emerged from the temporary bliss of sleep.

And do you know what makes survival so shitty?

The fact that most people care more about what kind of dumbass clothing apparel was worn by some dumbass celebrity at the Met Gala (whatever the fuck that is) or which horse won the Kentucky Derby before a crowd of nearly 200,000 spectators than they do about the children dying of starvation because a batshit crazy billionaire (and a band of zany “Big Balls”) cut off the funds that were feeding them.

Therefore, let me conclude with this observation: if there are Pearly Gates and the Gates of Hell that await us after death, there will always be just a handful at the Pearly Gates awaiting their name to be called while the line at the Gates of Hell will stretch far beyond the ability of numbers to measure, including those at the Met Gala, all the Big Balls, all the billionaires, all the rulers, and most of that 70 percent currently being ruled over.