Very seldom does the world come together. Media events have joined us, whom have the luxury of telecommunication, in various significant tragedies, regal weddings, elections and certain deaths and funerals. This day the media circus that surrounded the death of John Paul II witnessed the deep spirituality of the leader of the largest Christian church, and the response that faith cultivated. The world watched a testimony of Christianity itself; of Christ and his Church universal, of the Body of Christ and the universality of God’s calling. What follows are my memories and impressions of this man and this day.
It is odd how moments in our life mark us. I recall the death of Pope John Paul I, my mother, a life long Anglican, stood in the kitchen, crying, “the pope is dead,” she said. I was in my young teens and recall that he was only pope for a few weeks; accusations of murder are all I really recall. A new pope was elected and he was Polish. At my age all I saw was a nice man serving God as a leader, a pope,… and certainly not of my church. Weird how I recall my home having a record of him singing either polish songs or religious music.
Over the years, and only occasionally paying attention, I saw a man who served God through a ministry of outreach. I remember he was shot, but it was not as significant a memory as his forgiveness with the man who tried to end his ministry.
During this time I felt called to priestly ministry, but not at all due to the pope. Before this time he just was, as there was a prime minister or president. He was shot, just as Regan and John Lennon was shot, in many ways those times seemed to all flow into one memory. Being a leader and being shot almost went hand in hand in the eighties. As my call developed I paid much closer attention to his ministry, often critical of his doctrinal policy, but more so his seemingly repressive church. I recall that it was his time in Montreal and his visit with the Archbishop of Canterbury that made me most aware of his ministry; the pope-mobile being of great humour and yet with a message. Here was a pope willing to do anything to reach out, even if it meant parading around in a fishbowl.
In my maturity I saw a pope aged and seemingly broken. How could I have been so blind. It was in his weakness that his strength came out. It was in his days of weakness while “on the road” that he made his greatest impact. Youth Days were a mission and impacted a generation often said to be forgot to the Church. His weakness seemed to draw the youth intrigued and moved by this man. In many ways his isolation in illness seemed to connect with the isolation youth often feel.
Yet it was the sight of a man in horrific pain, this past Easter, sit at his window, desperate to give his blessing to his flock, unable to control his contorted body, that impacted the world and epitomized his life: service in spite of evil. The “evil” faced by the world is division, isolation, illness, pain, suffering, oppression, poverty, hatred, and denial of Christ and his Body. The pope made his ministry an attack on all that is bad in this world to celebrate the “good” which God made for his people: even in his last days.
I think we all sighed in relief when the Lord took him home last week. It was time, and so close after Easter that the impact was all the more significant. I watched like many, waiting for this monumental moment in the history of the world. I don’t believe that that statement is hyperbole, for here we witnessed a great man, who went out of his way to serve all humanity while staying true to his doctrinal belief in Christ’s revelations to the Roman Catholic Church. He moved mountains to meet with leaders of other doctrines and religions. He strove for justice and peace in times of war and destruction. He spoke and led from experience in Krakow and he brought his deep faith into the eye of the world.
I tolled the bell in my little Anglican church here on the remote north eastern coast of Quebec upon hearing of his passing. I watched sporadically this past week as pundits went about their work of praise and critique. I realized his burial would be today at 4:00 AM local time, but I didn’t set my watch, I prayed last night that if the Lord wants me awake for this I will be so; oddly enough I awoke, on my own, at 4:05, bright eyed. I turned on the TV and the cardinals were processing onto the piazza… odd how the Lord brings us to where we need to be.
I watched with awe and reverence as a Christian. I recognized the service as a funeral mass I celebrate myself in the Anglican church. It was all so familiar. I was deeply moved by the words of Cardinal Ratzinger, who ordinarily I oppose greatly for his narrow view of the Christian world, but today was not a day for doctrinal differences but for the celebration of a man and his devotion to service ministry. The cardinal referred to three sentences of scripture that meant so much to John Paul II. The one which resounded was “…I have called you….” God called Karol into his service, just as all of us are called to serve in our own way.
Fr. Robert Sirico, a pundit from the US and on BBC World News, stated that the Pope strove to get beyond “mediocrity… that every human life mattered… he inspired us… this was a momentous event….” Indeed it was momentous. A world event where religions of the world came to pay homage, political leaders, kings and queens, Romans and all denominations… the polish and the youth. It was an event that captivated the world for three hours. It was a testimony to Christ and his Church.
I was also moved by the “Peace” and the sharing of God’s love among the Eastern church members with the Western members, between George Bush and Jacque Chirac. There were many moments of joy… and sadness. As the Archbishop of Canterbury couldn’t receive communion and neither could others not of the Roman faith. I though felt compelled to join the Saints in heaven and on earth, and went over to the church and ate of the Body from the Reserved Sacrament; I justified the action as so many were joining in this act together around the world that I didn’t feel out of communion nor alone in my reception of this sacrament.
There are many differences I have as an Anglican with the Roman church. I consider my church as Catholic and true to the apostolic succession and as the names of the doctors of the faith and all the saints were mentioned with martyrs and servants in the final litany of prayer, I knew those differences are merely trivial to the Lord.
A passage of scripture I love is that we have “… so great a cloud of witnesses….” Here, this very day, we had that cloud of witnesses, beyond differences, united in faith, through the witness of a figure-head, a mere mortal, a Polish 20th century actor and intellectual. But he was “called:” Christ called him and none of us can deny that call. We see the impact his servant life had upon the world and we can only acknowledge the life which pointed always to Christ. We may not always have agreed with his doctrine or his church’s stance on various issues, but after this day we can not but call him: John Paul the Great!
