In the summer of 1987, preparing to cover Pope John Paul II's visit to New Orleans for the National Catholic Reporter, I biked out to the park on Lake Pontchartrain where the multitude would gather for his outdoor Mass.
I climbed to the top of the pyramid-like platform built for the event and stood looking out over the vast lawn and imagined the 46,000 faces spread out below me as far as the eye could see. What must it feel like to stand here and absorb the adulation of cheering crowds? How does this not turn a person's head?
At St. Louis Cathedral a few days later, as the pope came down the aisle, greeting the assembled priests and religious of the diocese, though he was but inches away, I was not moved to reach out and touch him -- not because I oppose a touch, but because I did now know him personally and he is not, more than any Christian, a "sacred object" from whom some magic flows.
When Karl Wojtyla was elected pope in 1978, the first thing that struck the public was his strength. Commonweal magazine pointed to "the complex humanity of a man who has tasted life and found it both painful and thrilling, who has seen and studied Western culture at its most sacred and most secular extremes and learned the glory, the limits and the cost of human freedom." He could sing, play the guitar, swim, ski, climb mountains, canoe, play tennis, and watch soccer on TV. He was an actor, a factory worker, a philosopher, a man who wrote poetry about love and toil. The editorial ended citing the dangers of setting our hopes too high; but one hope was that the moral center of the world "may once again be Rome."
His biographers argue that because of John Paul's physical and moral strength, it became so. His forays into his native Poland and exhortations to the workers helped tear down the Iron Curtain. His world travels projected the image of Catholicism as an international force. But his critics observe that Rome was not so much a moral center as a power center, that the expected effulgence of Catholic intellectual and cultural life wilted.
Vincent T. O'Keefe, a Jesuit, in a review last month in the Jesuit magazine America of John Cornwell's "The Pope in Winter," says Cornwell describes John Paul as absolutist and authoritarian, a man of "epic self-centeredness," a one- man show who smothered other talents, voices and virtues.
Harsh judgment? Yes. But one of the more memorable images of this pontificate is of an angry John Paul on a visit to Nicaragua, where some of the priests had embraced Liberation Theology, which interprets the Gospels from the point of view of the oppressed. He is shaking his finger at theologian Ernesto Cardenal for having joined the Sandinista government, and yelling "Silencio" at Nicaraguans in the crowd who heckled him.
In his defense, biographer George Weigel says the pope did not scold Cardenal but merely urged him to quit the government, and the Sandinistas had manipulated the crowd and the sound system to embarrass John Paul.
John Paul II's most lasting legacy is his support for the dignity of human life at every phase of its development. That means we do not kill life in the womb; we nurture the lives of children with health care and education; we do not execute murderers; we provide medical insurance for the sick and security for the aging; we do not actively terminate prematurely the lives of the very sick; we do not fight -- above all, do not start -- wars without demonstrating just cause; we do not torture or humiliate prisoners of war, and we do not bomb a whole neighborhood to take out one sniper.
It is the most sublime concept that the church preaches today, but it has not sunk in -- both because the culture resists and because the church does not really push it with all its heart. If President Bush and Catholic members of Congress had listened to the pope, Saddam Hussein might still be president of Iraq, but 1,500 American soldiers and an estimated 100,000 innocent Iraqi civilians would still be alive. I can think of no moral calculus that would value one man's removal over all those lives.
Depending on how we interpret it, John Paul II will be long remembered for the way he died. Vatican spokesmen say he deliberately died publicly to identify himself with the death of Jesus. We can respect that yet still wish it had been done another way.
A few months ago, I wondered: What if, when he reached 80, John Paul had had a wife, children, and grandchildren who had said: "Granddad, because we love you, we think it's time for you to retire and enjoy your last years with us. The church is filled with brilliant people ready to carry on where you left off. Give them a chance."
In my freshman theology class, we just finished the Gospel of John, at the climax of which Jesus breathes his Spirit into his disciples. That means that the Spirit of Christ lives today in the whole church, not just in the authorities.
Perhaps the Spirit will give us a successor to John Paul II who will take the name John XXIV, after the surprise pope who first convened Vatican Council II. He will call another council to reopen the Vatican windows to the new modern world. He will dress simply in a suit, and travel to the poorest villages of Africa and slums of Calcutta and Haiti, where Christ dies daily from hunger and disease in the poor. He will try to move around with no more fuss than the Dalai Lama or Desmond Tutu -- and accept the risk of assassination as part of the fate of every missionary or prophet.
He will communicate through the media in interviews and discussion and will listen -- and listen more. And sometimes answer "I don't know," or "You know, I never thought of it that way. That's an interesting idea." Then he will trust the Spirit to do His/Her work as well.
Raymond A. Schroth is a Jesuit and the Jesuit Community Professor in the Humanities at St. Peter's College and the media critic for the National Catholic Reporter. He may be reached at raymondschroth@aol.com .
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A genuine leader, but still human and flawed
When I was growing up, I thought that the pope lived forever. That pope was Eugenio Pacelli, Pope Pius XII, and he looked so ethereal in his pictures and was pope for so many years (1939-1958) that, in retrospect, my childish confusion seems understandable.
Karol Wojtyla became pope in 1978 and has had one of the longest papacies in history, eight years longer than Pius XII. It is much too soon to evaluate the legacy of Pope John Paul II; a fair evaluation would require time so as to consider the pope's decisions and agenda from an appropriate distance. Nevertheless, it is possible now to cite some of the highlights of John Paul's papacy and to understand the tremendous influence this pope exercised over the Catholic Church in the United States.
There is no question that Pope John Paul II taught young people that the Catholic Church is a hierarchical institution presided over by a single man, a pope. Through his travels, and especially through youth rallies, the pope connected with adolescents and conveyed to them his personal interest as well as the message that they are the future of the church. Because so many parents and teachers are concerned about secularism and the indifference of youth to religious faith, the pope's outreach to them was especially appreciated.
One of the most horrific events of the 20th century was the Holocaust and, in the years after World War II when we learned of the murder of 6 million Jews by the Nazis, Catholics and other Americans came to realize how dreadful anti-Semitism is. I remember when Catholics prayed on Good Friday for the "perfidious Jews" who conspired in the death of Christ. "Nostra Aetate," a document of Vatican II issued in 1965, condemned anti-Semitism and set the tone for respectful language in the Catholic liturgy.
However, words on paper accomplish only limited results. The public outreach of John Paul II to leaders of the Jewish community and his sensitive efforts to repair the past sins of the Catholic Church accomplished much more. In his heartfelt respect for our Jewish brothers and sisters, the pope was a role model for Catholics everywhere.
There is no question that Pope John Paul II was a strong leader who stayed on message and did not waver in the direction in which he steered the barque of Peter. This does not mean that every policy he implemented was flawless or that his very strength did not also contain an element of weakness.
In 1994 the church issued a compendium of its teachings, "The Catechism of the Catholic Church." The "Catechism" is a big volume, not as big as a phone book, but close. Lots of effort went into clarifying doctrine and putting a clear presentation of the church's teaching together. There certainly are benefits to having the "Catechism," but I bring up the time and dedication that went into it because in the years before 1994, the priest sex abuse crisis was simmering just below the surface and the church, headed by Pope John Paul II, was doing its best to keep clergy misconduct from public knowledge.
Someday we may know what the pope knew and when he knew it, and then we will be able to judge his lack of openness and leadership in regard to removing abusers so as to keep children from harm. In the meantime, I can't help but question his priorities.
Another major issue facing the Catholic Church in the United States is the priest shortage. Our priests are aging, and every year the ratio of priests to people declines. We have a sacramental church; we gather at the Eucharist to affirm and renew our faith. Only a priest can preside at the Eucharist, and the future looks grim because there will not be enough priests to staff parishes.
Pope John Paul II was sincere when he said that Catholics should pray for vocations to the priesthood and when he stood forthrightly for continuing to require that priests promise to be celibate. But the pope's inability to face the fact that Plan A is not working and that Plan B needs to be considered may ultimately be evaluated as a strategic failure.
I am a woman and have been a woman all my life. I am a Catholic and have been a Catholic all my life. After my family, my religion is my greatest treasure. But as a woman and a Catholic, I cannot applaud the papacy of John Paul II for strides made in behalf of women.
As far as I am concerned, there is nothing to boast about. A token woman here or there holds a position in a parish, or chancery office, or even in the Vatican. But, by and large, Catholic women are not part of the decision-making apparatus of the church. If we had been, the priest sex abuse scandal would have been handled very differently, empathy would be an integral part of Catholic moral teaching and not an afterthought, and there would be plenty of priests because we would stand behind the altar and preside at worship.
Eileen P. Flynn, a professor at St. Peter's, is the author of 13 books, including "Catholics at a Crossroads: Coverup, Crisis and Cure" and "Catholicism: Agenda for Renewal." She may be reached at eflynn@spc.edu .
Post 100 & 101
Hah, he doesn't mention the 300,000 or so people in Saddam's human landfills and uses BS numbers released the week before the election to hurt Bush.
For priests like Pope John Paul II (and for the One High Priest, Jesus, who washed his disciples' feet) it's all about service.
>> He is shaking his finger at theologian Ernesto Cardenal for having joined the Sandinista government, <<
AND HE SHOULD!
That a Catholic priest should partake in a Stalinist government is horrific! What foul manner of demon would excuse such an action?
>> But the pope's inability to face the fact that Plan A is not working and that Plan B needs to be considered may ultimately be evaluated as a strategic failure. <<
She wants to bring back the Tridentine mass? *Snicker*
Golly the Jesuits suck (I can say that, I was Jesuit-educated).
Disband the Jesuits.