When I opened Sunday’s Arkansas Democrat-Gazette and read the headline — “John Paul II era ends” — I suddenly remembered a box in the storage room of my carport. Wrapped tightly in tape, the box carries a simple label, “Newspapers.” I grabbed my keys to the storage room, located the dusty box, and brought it to the kitchen. I quickly cut the tape with scissors.
Inside I found a stack of newspapers, many of which I had not seen in years. As a young man I developed the habit of keeping newspapers which chronicled events of historic importance. Today I am grateful I had the presence of mind to spirit them away. The box is a kind of time capsule of my adult life: presidential and mayoral elections, wars, visits of famous persons, the appointment of the bishops under whom I served in Tennessee and, of course, Sept. 11, 2001.
Sunday night it did not take me long, rifling through the box toward the bottom, to find what I was looking for: headlines I had read as a newly-ordained priest beginning my final year of study in Rome.
L’Osservatore Romano, Vatican City, Oct. 16, 1978. “I Cardinali in Conclave per l’elezione del Papa — Prima fumata nera.” “The Cardinals in Conclave for the Election of the Pope — First cloud of smoke black.”
Il Messaggero, Rome, Oct. 17, 1978. “Dopo Quattro secoli e mezzo eletto un Pontefice non italiano — Il nuovo Papa è polacco — Si chiamerà Giovanni Paolo II — È il cardinale di Cracovia Karol Wojtyla — Ha cinquantotto anni.” “After four and a half centuries a non-Italian Pontiff elected — The New Pope is Polish — He will be called John Paul II — He is the Cardinal of Krakow Karol Wojtyla — He is 58 years old.”
The Daily American, Rome, Oct. 17, 1978. “6:18 p.m. — White smoke — World welcomes Pope of hope — John Paul II.” An article toward the bottom of the page bears the headline, “Surprise choice considered middle-of-the-road.”
When I placed those newspapers in the box more than 26 years ago, I did not know that some day I would read a headline calling the pontificate of Pope John Paul II an “era.”
An era it was indeed, and much more.
John Paul II’s first message to the world was one of hope. “Do not be afraid,” he told the thousands gathered on Oct. 22 for the solemn beginning of his pontificate. From the beginning he called us to hope in Christ, and in the years that followed he showed us how to hope.
Historians will make much of his experiences and accomplishments, and rightly so. Here was a man who taught the truth unwaveringly, in season and out of season, a philosopher who gave much-needed perspective on modern thought and demonstrated how Christian faith speaks directly and convincingly to the world. Here was a man who spoke lovingly and tirelessly on behalf of the poor and weak, those who have no voice and whom the world often forgets. Here was a man who worked determinedly for peace in an age of wars.
Here was a man who stood toe-to-toe with the leaders of the Soviet bloc, particularly those of his native Poland and others listening nervously in Moscow, a man who marched in “Solidarity” with oppressed and downtrodden workers suffocating under communism. John Paul II understood that any system has its Achilles’ heel and challenged us in the First World to reject the self-interested traps of consumerism.
Here was a man who knew suffering. He lost his mother at age 9, his only brother three years later, and his father at age 20. He worked in a rock quarry, studied in a secret seminary, and experienced first-hand the unspeakable cruelties of the Second World War and its aftermath. The victim of an assassin’s bullet, he later suffered numerous illnesses, including Parkinson’s disease, which robbed his robust, athletic frame of its former vigor.
Here was a man of joy. He kissed and caressed the sick and elderly, hugged the children, and offered a hand of friendship to his would-be assassin. With an actor’s flair, he spoke to vast crowds in wide, welcoming, and happy gestures. He could stir up a horde of young people more effectively than any rock star; they loved him and found inspiration in his strength. He was the most recognized face on the planet.
Here was a man of reconciliation, who asked forgiveness for the sins of the Church and sought doggedly to heal age-old Christian schisms. Having been reared with many Jewish friends, he revered God’s covenant with the people of Israel and clasped hands in holy friendship with our elder brothers and sisters in faith.
You and I had the privilege of living in “his era.”
Without doubt, Pope John Paul II was a man of epic stature who will go down in history — both religious and secular — as one of the great ones, in my opinion, the greatest world leader of the second half of the 20th century.
But one thing must be said over and over. None of what I have written has meaning unless this one thing is known and said of him:
He was a faithful Christian, called to be a priest for God’s people, to Shepherd the world as Christ’s vicar. He was a man of prayer who knew that in order to fulfill his vocation he must be united unceasingly to God. To him, as to St. Paul, Christ was life itself. We will have understood nothing of him if we do not understand that everything he was and everything he did sprang from his faith and his relationship with Jesus Christ, whom he proclaimed as the one Savior of the world and who for him was literally everything. His life will be scrutinized through many lenses in the years ahead, but only one lens reveals the true Pope John Paul II in his entirety, the lens of Christian faith. He showed us how Christ speaks to our time and to our place. Through him Christ spoke to our time and our place.
The “surprise choice” headlines in the newspapers of October 1978 are another reason for hope. The Holy Spirit guided the cardinals in conclave that month, fulfilling once again Jesus’ promise that he would not leave the Church — or the world — orphan. The same Holy Spirit, ever faithful, will once again guide the cardinals in a few weeks.
You won’t be surprised to learn that I have placed Sunday’s Arkansas Democrat-Gazette in the box labeled, “Newspapers.”
Do you have an intention for Bishop Sartain’s prayer? If so, send it to him at Bishop Sartain’s Prayer List, Diocese of Little Rock, 2500 North Tyler St., P.O. Box 7239, Little Rock, AR 72217.