As a young child on the rolling plains and forests of the Alango School playground, I learned all kinds of things beyond reading, writing and arithmetic. There was fort building 101, marbles, wrestling, running, chasing girls (a precursor to dating), and even witty sayings of all kinds. One witty saying I recall was used when the answer to a question was obviously, unequivocally, and undoubtedly “yes” and it might go like this, “Hey, kid! Are you going to eat that whole candy bar?” The kid would respond, “Is the Pope Catholic?” It was an attempt at being witty (and a likely precursor to threat of bodily harm if the questioner was twice the kid’s size and didn’t appreciate witty comebacks).

I bring up the topic of Popes as we have a new Pope who shares my name and age. It’s no small matter and it seems incumbent upon me to attempt to be wise, not witty. My friends and family think it funny that I should be somehow connected to the Pope in even the slightest manner. I don’t see the humor in it, but I forgive them.

Anyway, I covered a bit about the Papacy in an earlier article so rather than reinvent the wheel, offer the following. Best wishes to Pope Leo. We need all the good we can get.

Lessons From the Past

You probably don’t know that Pope Leo I, also referred to as Leo the Great, reigned over the Catholic church from 440 AD until his death in 461 AD. They say he was a really good Pope. I didn’t know that either until recently visiting Italy which was the destination of our enterprising travel group – Jim, Arlene, Lindy and me. Our mission: to explore strange new lands, seek out new experiences and old civilizations and boldly go where we hadn’t gone before. And it’s quite possible, a Star Trek theme is not the best way to introduce a vacation to Italy, but how else does one communicate an experience that was every bit as impressive as the final frontier of space?

Before getting into the trip, it seems worth mentioning that most residents of northern Minnesota, with the exception of Native Americans, are but babes in the woods when compared to most of the world. The oldest structures I grew up around were built little more than 100 years ago. The American story of my ancestors is 120 years. I own a white pine tree older than that. So, suffice to say, viewing a country overflowing with thousands of years of recorded history, dating beyond the time of Christ’s birth, was difficult to wrap my mind around. The magnificence of the Vatican, the colossal Coliseum, engineering marvels in bridges and aqueducts, towering obelisks, the waterways of Venice, Michaelangelo’s statue of David in Florence, intricate tapestries and acres of flowing murals more than challenge one’s senses.

No doubt, mild climate and the durability of marble and granite have aided the extreme longevity of these priceless creations, but for me, the question that ran through my mind day after day was, “How did they do it?” These masterpieces, which combine art and might, along with the works of the Greeks and Egyptians prior, are so advanced it leads many to believe aliens from outer space had to have a hand in creating them. I get that. A 300-ton obelisk ornately carved from one single piece of marble cut from a quarry and hauled several hundred miles away to a Roman town square would take Herculean effort and craftsmanship even with today’s technology. But the reality is that mankind is incredibly intelligent along with being creative and artistic and always has been. We have not evolved over the last couple thousand years to become smarter versions of our ancestors. Rather, the only difference between the ancients and us is that we have built upon a growing foundation of knowledge and it is a system that will continue to make mankind more educated into the future – not necessarily smarter. The same goes for the arts whether in the form of paintings, poetry, music or sculptures. It only changes in style where beauty rests in the eye of the beholder.

As I was beholding the magnificent creativity of our predecessors (Leo Wilenius Maximus has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?), a sobering thought came to mind. While our base of knowledge has increased thousands of times over through the centuries, our humanity has changed little. Sure, we don’t feed Christians to the lions anymore or enslave masses to build pyramids, but our struggles to find a higher plane of acceptance of other cultures and ideas are little more than skin deep if, in fact, there is depth at all. Today’s oft-expressed pleas for a more loving world are certainly welcome steps in the right direction and I like to think the majority of people feel that way. However, condemning social media posts, snarky politicians and caustic news editorials of the day remind us we have a long way to go in the simple discipline of good manners. So, is there anything to be learned from the past?

Well, another thing I learned in Italy was that back in 452 AD, Pope Leo I, noted at the start of this story, once had a face-to-face meeting with Attila the Hun. Attila, as you may remember from your high-school history class, had made a name for himself by sacking, burning, raping and overrunning much of Europe and now he was at the gates of Rome. And he wasn’t there for a takeout pizza. Somehow in their meeting, Pope Leo persuaded the unstoppable Attila and his powerful army of raiders to turn back from their warring ways and leave Rome peacefully.

That sort of thing simply doesn’t happen very often. I suspect Pope Leo was a very smart fellow. Or could it be that he was also incredibly, maybe overwhelmingly, loving and understanding? It seems we could learn a lot from a guy like that and maybe even from Attila. All I know is that history, and the stories it has yet to tell in the ancient remains of Italy, are worth the trip.

Leo is retired and lives in rural Cook with his wife, Lindy. He is the author of three books, She Won’t Mow the Daisies, The Cabin Experience, and Life Over Easy. Leo can be contacted by email at llwilenius@gmail.com.