New friends, insensitive security guards and Susan Boyle make for an eventful papal Mass in Glasgow

It was astonishing how much I could see from under the maple tree in Zone 1, Section 25 of Bellahouston Park. By standing on its roots, I added inches to my stature and could see, not only the huge screen before me, but away before the altar, songstress Susan Boyle in a black dress. Catholic Scotland cheered to see its favourite daughter.

“Her brother does my garden,” said Paul beside me.

“She lives just down the road from me,” said the woman in front of us.

Boyle sang the inappropriate “I Dreamed a Dream” and, less well, the appropriate “How Great Thou Art” to great cheering and flag-waving. Some of the congregation had been in the park since morning, and choirs and soloists kept them entertained all day. The mood was a happy one, and I was delighted by the banter between my neighbours.

“I went to Lourdes for the liqueur,” claimed Glaswegian Robert. “Aye, it’s true. I came back with five bottles. It’s totally delicious.”

If this were a novel, I’d make traditionalist Paul symbolize both Edinburgh and the extraordinary form of the Mass and enthusiastic Robert both Glasgow and the ordinary form.  Paul got to his knees for the Canon; Robert sang the hymns lustily. Paul reproved me for writing in my missal; Robert made me take communion. Meanwhile, I am deeply grateful to them both, for during our long wait a cold wind sprang up, and Paul loaned me a warm scarf while Robert gave me his cardigan.

When the Holy Father first appeared onscreen, a great cheer went up and the crowd eagerly watched the fenced-off lanes for the popemobile. It drove in and, standing on my tree roots, I saw the Holy Father’s face very clearly. He looked just like himself, only tired. One forgets how old 83 is. The crowd cheered and waved as he blessed us.

The MC instructed us to preserve a prayerful silence as the Holy Father prepared himself to celebrate Mass. Taking advantage of this teachable moment, Paul looked meaningfully at Robert.

“See how much emphasis the Pope puts on silence,” he said. “A lot.”

When the Holy Father sat down, the archbishop of Glasgow welcomed him and summed up the history of Catholics in Scotland. Benedict listened to this with equanimity. He was presented with a book about St. Ninian. An aide wisked it away. Then Cardinal Keith O’Brien of Edinburgh said a few words, and Mass began.

“Ze Lord be vit you,” said the Holy Father.

“Und mit Deinem Geiste,” I almost said.

One also forgets how German elderly Germans sound when they speak English.  Benedict sounded less German when he got to the preface (down went Paul) for it was in Latin, as was the eucharistic prayer. And to my untutored ears, he pronounced a Gaelic blessing without a trace of an accent.

I knelt beside Paul for the eucharistic prayer, awed by the solemnity of the moment. Unfortunately, chattering voices broke through the quiet and scandalized sensitive me. Finally, I looked around to see a black-bearded security guard talking loudly to his pal in a language neither English nor Gaelic. Presumably no one had given him sensitivity training. Awe gave way to seething fury, and I was not in a fit state for communion. I tried to calm myself as the eucharistic ministers, each identifiable by a yellow umbrella, walked through the crowds.

“Go on, go on,” urged Robert.

“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m not in a fit state to receive.”

This staggered modern Robert.

“The Lord wants to nourish you,” he wailed. After a protracted argument, he actually fetched me a eucharistic minister, so I put myself in a fit state, pronto.

The section thinned out after the communion of the faithful as, quite against the instructions of the pilgrim packs, several faithful rushed off early for the exits. The majority remained, however, to finish Mass and cheer the Holy Father as he left the park.

“We Scots and Irish are a wild lot,” mourned Paul as we surveyed the plastic bags, etc., left in their wake.

To purge my resentment for the chatty young security guards, I found an elderly Scottish one. No, the security guards had not been given sensitivity training. Normally they work events like rock concerts. Yes, the Papal Mass had definitely been different.

“It was very peaceful,” said the security guard shyly. “Even though I’m not religious, I found it quite moving.”