Of art exhibits and popes.

Don't ask me why the exhibition--"St. Peter and the Vatican: The Legacy of the Popes"--on display for only the third time in history, was recently at the Museum of Art in, of all places, Fort Lauderdale, Florida, but there it was, and there recently was I, with a morning to kill before a return flight to Toronto.

I went; it was the most informative and moving exhibition I have ever seen. I did not purchase the exhibition catalogue--not because of the price ($35 US)--but at more than 500 pages, its bulk would have required a small forklift to add to my already stuffed luggage.

The exhibition is comprised of approximately 400 objects, including walk-through representations of the original tomb of St. Peter, and the Sistine Chapel. As I gazed up at Michelangelo's representation of the finger of God reaching down to touch Adam, I realized that this exhibit is the closest one will get to the Vatican without actually going there.

The art on display includes masterpieces by Bernini, Giotto, Canova, and others. Artifacts include the tiara of Pope Pius IX, of Ghent gold encrusted with pearl, silver, and emeralds; and, by contrast, the plain silver crosier carried by Pope John Paul II until the ravages of Parkinson's disease made its weight too much for him. The exhibit also includes the chair upon which the first Pope, St. Peter, the disciple to whom Christ entrusted the keys of the kingdom, reputedly sat; it includes the Mandylion of Edessa, a third-century image of the face of Jesus on linen considered to be the oldest known likeness of Christ.

Guards, of course, were everywhere, both to assist in explaining the twenty-five separate exhibition areas and to ensure that none of the priceless artifacts was touched or damaged. But there was one exception: one exhibit that patrons were invited to touch. It was a cast of the right hand of Pope John II onto which visitors could place their hand as they prayed for the Pope and the Church. To watch a procession of visitors, all casually dressed, of every age and colour and (presumably) religion, place their hand on this cast, bow their heads, and pray silently, was a moving experience. To actually place my own hand there was to feel at least an intimation of the strength and serenity of the man I call John Paul the Great.

Of course, it is known that the Pope's health is failing, and it cannot be long before Cardinals will be summoned to Rome to choose a successor. Whom will they choose?

When the accession of Karol Wojtyla was announced on October 16, 1978, the cheers of the thousands thronged in St. Peter's Square almost drowned out the new Pope's first words--"Be not afraid". We must await the selection of his successor recalling those words.

In 1978, Karol Wojtyla was a relatively unknown cardinal from an unlikely country, Poland. It was a bold step to choose a pope from a country suffering under Communist oppression. It is known now that senior Kremlin officials were shocked and apprehensive at the selection of Wojtyla. Well, they had good reason to fear, because more than any other single man, Pope John Paul II was to be responsible for the end of the Soviet Empire, then for the demise of Communism itself.

Philip Jenkins' recent book, The New Christendom, documents the changing face of 21st century Christianity. Even as what is left of a desiccated, often ribald, Christianity dies in western Europe and North America, a vibrant orthodox Christianity is resurgent in Africa, Asia, and South America. Indeed, such is the radical shift to the South and East that missionaries are coming from Africa to North America to remind us what the Christian faith is about.

So what if the next conclave of cardinals were to choose the first African pope, say the orthodox Nigerian Cardinal, Francis Arinze? Such a bold move would rival the selection of Karol Wojtyla in 1978. It would send a message that Christendom is secure on its foundations, perhaps even ready to impose much-needed discipline on the wayward, faltering North American church. It would signal, simultaneously, recognition of the true face of 21st century Christianity and, one might hope, a return to Christian orthodoxy.

Ian Hunter is Professor Emeritus in the Faculty of Law at Western University