out. A Jungian psychiatrist once asked: What is the opposite of love? Most people say hatred, the more sophisticated say indifference. The psychiatrist's answer was: The opposite of love is not hatred or indifference but power.
It is very difficult to conclude with any practical advice for those having difficulties with loving the church. It would be comforting to think that experiences of suffering at the hands of the church or the people we love were a way of being led from love to deeper love. But that presumes a mystical temperament that we cannot always expect to find. So I conclude with the words of Mark Twain: When you don't know what to do, do what is right.□
( January 6, 1995) Washington -- the tiny elevator at the hotel Columbus would be too slow, so I ran up the marble staircase, hurried along the faded red carpeting and knocked on the dark, varnished door with its bright brass numerals. It was just after 7 p.m. on Aug. 25, 1978.
There was some grumbling and snorting from within until, finally, the door opened slightly and the round, flushed face of Peter Hebblethwaite, roused from a late afternoon nap after an extended Roman lunch, smiled in recognition and amused anticipation.
"Better go, Peter," I said. "We may have a pope." In St. Peter's Square, the conclave smoke was an uncertain gray. Hebblethwaite didn't hazard a guess as to who it might be and disappeared behind the door. He probably hoped it was not Cardinal Giovanni Benelli, whom Jesuit Fr. Peter Hebblethwaite had attacked in the London Observer five years earlier as a deputy secretary of state who was "repressive . . . secretive . . . mysterious (and whose) methods obfuscate the message of the gospels."