The election of a new pope is inevitably a major news story, having been depicted numerous times in novels and movies. Encased in the exotic traditions of antiquity along with queues of cardinals draped in blood-red cassocks (intentionally symbolizing the blood they must be willing to shed for the church) while chanting ethereal invocations in Latin to the Holy Spirit — a conclave is the stuff of high drama.
Dear Friends of Istituto Acton, James Joyce once remarked, “Rome reminds me of a man who lives by exhibiting to travelers his grandmother’s corpse.” Not surprising coming from the most representative of 20 th century modernist novelists with his legendary hatred of the Roman Catholic Church. But for all of the ancient ruins and continuing attempts to assign the Church to the progressive ash heap of history, the Vatican and especially the office of the papacy manage to survive.
Dear friends of Istituto Acton, This month’s letter is going to be about a single subject that has me particularly worked up at the moment: Taxes. And not only because my payroll taxes have gone up and shrunk my take-home pay, which was already far from luxurious given the dollar-exchange rate and the cost of living in a European capital rather than, say, Grand Rapids, Michigan. (Cue pity-inducing violins now.)