German cardinal's views on Britain's atheism mere media-talk

Holyrood Palace, 8:50 a.m. It's a sunny morning in Edinburgh, but as they say here, if you don't like the weather, wait a minute. The media tent is sparsely populated with journalists — mostly men in dark suits. Television screens line a wall, and a woman is cleaning windows with a pungent yellow fluid.

The road to the palace is blocked off, with smiling police officers every few metres. As I passed one white van in the media-only route, I heard the barking of a pack of dogs inside. Happily for me, journalists are being allowed into the actual grounds of the palace. I am going to be very popular with my parish priest when next I see him.

The big news of this morning is, of course, Cardinal Walter Kasper and his remarks to a German magazine that in arriving at Heathrow airport he sometimes feels that he is visiting a Third World country, that there is a strain of militant atheism in the U.K. and that people face persecution for wearing crucifixes when flying with British Airways.  

I've never been to Heathrow nor the Third World, so I have no idea if what the cardinal says is true, although I know the sentiment to be a cliche. Certainly there is a strain of militant atheism in the U.K., as everybody should know by now (Richard Dawkins) and one British Airway employee was indeed disciplined for wearing a cross around a chain on her neck. The "Papal Visit Third World Row" smacks of being a row in the media mind only, especially as the story broke on the night before the Holy Father arrives in the U.K.  As rows go, however, it is infinitely preferable than hearing, yet again, about the sex abuse scandals.

But that is media-talk. Today is the feast of St. Ninian, the oldest Scottish saint, born in the fourth century. To celebrate, there will be a parade through Edinburgh's New Town with pipers, schoolchildren and historical characters including St. Margaret of Scotland, Mary Queen of Scots, the novellist Muriel Spark and, believe it or not, John Knox.

So it's off to the palace, hopefully to see the Queen and, of course, the Holy Father. But as luck would have it, I didn't get into Holyrood. Waited outside for an hour and a half with a growing crowd. Suddenly motorcycles, a fleet of vans with smoken windows, the sight of a hand waving behind the dark glass (was it him) and the gates shut. The crowd waited, wondering if a limo would follow. But we could hear the brass band strike up God Save the Queen, and realizing the game was up, I rushed off to the media tent. Now I must rush to Waverley Station to catch my noon train.