What to say to the Pope?

„Never mind abortion or paedophile priests. As Pope Force One taxied towards us, there was one issue still revolving in my mind at the speed of a Rolls-Royce fan jet. Should the Popemobile be liable for the congestion charge and, if not, why not? Should the Holy Father have to pay £8 to drive through Westminster, like everyone else? Or should that fee be waived, in recognition of his status as the vicar of Christ on Earth? It is a tough one, and I am sure there will be clear-sighted readers of this paper who will take opposite views; and it is that very division of instinct that is so revealing about the psychology of this country.

It was an honour and a privilege to be asked to meet the Pope at Heathrow, and I had spent the previous couple of days thinking what to say. Some of my Catholic friends said I should kiss his ring. I think they were having me on. Some said I should speak in Latin, or try some disarming witticism. I attempted to cook up a gag about Dark Ages Britain being lost to the See of Rome, and how thrilled the hard-pressed Christian community was when Saint Augustine turned up. The punchline was going to be "long time no See".

You will be relieved to know that I abandoned all these projects when I saw the man himself, his white hair glowing through the Alitalia porthole. Here he was, Joseph Ratzinger, Benedict XVI, the upholder of Catholic teaching in a morass of relativism, with his stern but interesting critique of our secular world. Here was I, the representative of a teeming megalopolis, a place where hard work and hedonism seemed to be the dominant ethics, and where some people were not just apathetic about the papal visit, but positively hostile.”