History again

It was the morning of Friday, September 29, 1978. I'd only been in Washington about a month, having come to do an internship at Georgetown. I was confused as I heard radio news stories about the death of the pope. Pope Paul VI had died in early August, but that was old news. They'd just elected a new pope—John Paul somebody or other—about a month ago, so why was this the main news story that morning? And yet, as my mental fog cleared, it was apparent that this was a current story—the new pope had died during the night! A few weeks later, the college of cardinals would call a Polish bishop to lead the Church into the 21st century.

Fast forward to Saturday, April 2, 2005. I've only been in Washington a couple of months, having come to take a new job with the government. As I awoke from my afternoon nap, the television droned on that John Paul's successor had died at 2:37 p.m. Washington time. This time the news came as no shock....we've been having the papal death watch all weekend. It is so eerie, though, that every time I live in Washington, a pope dies.

It rains. It has rained all day. Tonight, the rain is cold and hard, with a bitter wind. Are the skies washing away the sins of the world? Or are these tears of angels?