Catholics have had their traditional period of grief for the passing of the Pope — which is, in a sense, what just happened — and have moved on to the next stage: waiting in uneasy anticipation for the conclave to begin and end.
Once upon a time, I'm told, when the Bishop of Rome was selected by the priests and deacons of Rome, the ritual of showing the newly-elected Pontiff to the crowd was serious business: if the Romans booed their choice, they'd turn right around and elect a different person.
Nor was the conclave born of secrecy; in fact, the point of it was to get the electors to make their choice speedily. Up until the 2005 conclave, the electors were housed inside the Apostolic Palace on rented cots that, as Fr. Andrew Greeley noted in The Making of the Popes 1978: The Politics of Intrigue in the Vatican, were almost as uncomfortable as the beds at his seminary. For the 2005 election the Domus Sanctae Marthae was open; although it has a dining room and conference rooms like any two-star hotel, the bedrooms themselves are as modestly furnished as the cell of a modern convent or monastery.
No one wants to make the conclave a prolonged affair, especially not the cardinals themselves.







