It is the time of the pandemic. For those of us whose daily work and busyness have come to a sudden halt, it seems a good time for us to be visiting some "old friends". In my case, I have been cultivating long internal conversations with my old companion: academic theology. For the past ten years of my ordained life, my focus has been placed so much on the intellectual faith of others, I have hardly had time to explore my own intellectual deepening. This time of study and exploration has been exciting and I don't long for it to stop.

There is something to be said of the call to be mindful of the plight of the poor among us. The point of the Catholic faith is more than just about giving food and money and clothing to the poor people. To be sure, these are important aspects of our faith. But more than that, the constant call of the Gospel is about making good our human lives. God created us to be human beings, not something less human because we are now the baptised "elite". If anything, being Catholic should make us more human than ever. 

It is such a joy when the chimney of the Sistine Chapel emits white smoke and the Vatican bells begin ringing gloriously as a heralding to the world of the fact that the See of Peter is no longer vacant. Once again, we have a pope. But the relief and joy, for those who are keen followers of the papacy, very quickly translates into an instantaneous anxiety over who this new pope is going to be and what he would be like as compared to our popes of the recent past. Will he be as media-friendly as the Blessed John Paul II? Will he be as theologically astute as Pope Benedict XVI? Such disconcerting speculations, amidst others, race through one's mind.

I must admit that my heart skipped a beat when the new Supreme Pontiff appeared at the balcony without the traditional papal mozzetta (there is even a special one made for the Lenten and Advent seasons, but he was not wearing it).