Every once in a while, I like to eat a simple dinner. In this case, "simple" means that I don't cook said dinner. I open a can of Chunky soup, pour it into my soup mug and pop it in the microwave.

My soup mug is one of those oversized ceramic things that Spencer used to sell before Spencer went upscale. The slogan reads: "I've got this drinking problem...two hands and only one mouth."

Hoo boy. A real knee slapper. Not only did I pick that one out of a wide selection of similarly inanely decorated steins, this is my third "drinking problem" mug. Every time I break one, I swear I'm gonna get one with a different stupid saying, but each time I wind up adhering to tradition. There go my liberal creds right out the window.

The last time I made some soup, I chose Chunky clam chowder (New England, not Manhattan). Canned clam chowder is nowhere near as good as fresh, but still, there aren't many canned foods that are anywhere near as tasty as clam chowder, especially when you add lots of Tabasco. The only problem is that the potatoes tend to explode while cooking, as the microwave heats them up faster than the soup around them. Creates a real big mess and necessitates cleanup. I hate cleanup.

So a long time ago I fixed the problem. After a minute and a half, I take out the soup, stir it, let it sit for a few seconds and then put it back in the microwave for another minute or so. No explosion, no cleanup. Life is good.

The other night, I removed the mug o' soup from the microwave after a minute and a half and began to stir it. The stuff exploded right in my face.

I think the Pope just might know how I felt at that moment.

On Friday, Pope John Paul II was hangin' in Athens with the Orthodox gang. The Catholics and the Orthodox haven't been on speaking terms for a thousand years or so.

But after being challenged on Orthodox home turf, the Pope stood up and begged forgiveness for everything the Catholics had done in the past, including that most vicious of drive-bys, the sacking of Constantinople during the Fourth Crusade. Instead of a big throwdown in the Big A, the Catholics and the Orthodox shared hugs and kisses. I bet the Pope got such an adrenaline rush from the day's events that he stayed up five minutes past his bedtime.

Now, I'm not the most religious sort. On my census form I checked off the box that read "born-again atheist." And I often wonder just how far into his colon the Pope has jammed his dogmatic corncob. Nonetheless, I think it's cool when hard-line religious enemies can get together and parley without bloodshed.

And so, riding the Athenian high, the Pope flew to Damascus, where he met with Syrian "President" (that's the Aramaic word for "dictator-for-life") Bashar Assad. Assad, in the name of religious harmony, urged the Pope (and all Christians and Arabs in general) to start a new Crusade.

In obvious reference to Jews (and, one would assume, Israel), Assad said, "They try to kill the principle of religions in the same mentality in which they betrayed Jesus Christ and in the same way with which they tried to kill the Prophet Mohammed."

Professor Griff and Charlie Ward couldn't have said it any better in a tag-team duet. But the Pope was cool. He didn't flinch. He didn't wince. And while some wags might claim he simply nodded off during this part of Assad's speech, I'd like to think that the old guy was simply being politic. When his time came to speak, the Pope chilled out. He urged Assad and the people of Syria to "spare no effort" in the search for "greater harmony and cooperation among the peoples of the region."

In other words, despite all his efforts and good faith work, the Pope still had to do a little cleanup. And after that he finished the job he'd set out to do, bringing together people of different sects and even religions in the name of peace. The Pope has done a lot of things I don't like. By my reckoning, these most recent acts don't quite stack the scales in his favor even yet. But I've gotta hand it to the guy. When it comes to clutch play, he can still stroke a smooth single and bring in the winning run.

My soup? Well, after washing my glasses, my face and my hands, applying salve to the burns, wiping up the microwave, counter, kitchen floor and hallway walls and stirring the mug once more, I sat down and ate a simple meal. Even with cleanup, Chunky clam chowder (with lots of Tabasco) is still a treat.

Jon Worley's burns have mostly healed. He's not so sure about the situation in the Middle East.