On Pilgrimage

The Smiling Pope — 30 Years Later

I’m amazed to realize it’s been over a month since I’ve posted anything here. I’m also amazed that I’ve posted so little so far about one of the things I hold most dear – my work on the life of Pope John Paul I, who died 30 years ago this September 28. It’s also the 30th anniversary of that whole “year of three Popes”: of the death of Paul VI, the unexpected election and even more unexpected death of John Paul I, and the election of John Paul II, the “Pope from a far country” — all incredible historical events. Beginning with Pope Benedict’s visit, I seem to have become absorbed again with all things papal, including my research on Papa Luciani, the 33-day Pope. So I’ve decided that I’ll post a series of things on the anniversary here. And first of all the story, from the beginning, of my devotion to John Paul I.

I was 22 in August 1978, just about to return to my senior year at the University of Northern Iowa. On the afternoon of Sunday, August 6, I was reading a biography of Pope Paul VI on the couch in the living room, when the TV programming was interrupted for the announcement of his death. I was very struck by the coincidence.

This was the first papal election I was able to follow as an adult (I was only seven years old when Pope John XXIII died and Pope Paul was elected). As a Catholic, maturing in my faith, it was an important time of learning and study for me. I had recently been reading the history of the papacy and the biographies of various Popes. I had read and been deeply moved by Pope John’s Journal of a Soul. I read works on the Second Vatican Council.

Now I followed the conclave, and descriptions of the history of papal elections with tremendous interest. And I thought about the late Pope, his work for the Church, and who should be his successor. None of the photos or biographies of the papabili (possible popes), such as Benelli, Pignedoli, Siri, Ursi. . . struck me at all.

As I was heading back to school on August 25, I took with me one of the Catholic papers that had published a two-page spread with the names and photos of all 111 of the cardinal electors. It was there for the first time that I saw Albino Luciani’s face and name. I don’t remember what the picture looked like – I do know he wasn’t smiling in it; it was an “official” photo. But I remember thinking with great interest: hmmm, he’s Patriarch of Venice – just like Pope John! It was only a momentary thought, but that was how I became one of the very few people in the U.S. perhaps to really linger over Luciani’s name or even know who he was, before his election. If the paper had only published the names of the papabili cardinals, his name probably wouldn’t even have been there. He was barely mentioned among the possibilities even in Rome. . .

I got to my dorm, greeted my roommate, and started unpacking. Classes would start on Tuesday. On the news, I watched as the cardinals entered the conclave.

The next day was Saturday, August 26. I wasn’t expecting anything the first day of the conclave, which was supposed to be a long one. I was in my dorm room reading one of my new textbooks early that afternoon when a voice from the radio or TV in the next room told me that Albino Cardinal Luciani had been elected Pope, and had taken the name John Paul I. It was perhaps the greatest surprise election in papal history! I turned on our TV in time for his first blessing. All I can say is that my heart turned a somersault when I saw the new Pope smile so warmly and beautifully as he opened his arms and then waved to the crowd.

I was enthralled as I learned in the next days about how the new Pope would not be crowned but would simply put on the pallium to mark the beginning of his service as bishop of Rome. I learned that he refused the sedia gestatoria and would just walk among the people. (All that seems so far away now in the era of the Popemobile – but at that time it was revolutionary. And John Paul I started it all). I read the texts of his simple talks full of love and wisdom. I looked on in amazement at the very few news clips I was able to watch, as he smiled so radiantly and transmitted such Christian joy to the world. I began collecting all the information I could about him right away, and started a file of news clippings and photos. Then, barely a month after his election, on September 29, I got up and got ready for class. On my way to our dorm cafeteria for breakfast, I stopped in the little student lounge next door to read the paper – and learned that our wonderful new Pope had died during the night. I was devastated.

In all the years since then, John Paul I has remained a spiritual father and teacher to me. I found him an inspiration not only as Pope, but as priest, bishop and cardinal. I learned Italian so I could read all his works from his years in Vittorio Veneto and Venice in the original language, and went through a great deal to get some of those works from Italy. I hoped to write a biography of him, because there wasn’t one in English. (They eventually published his collected works in nine volumes — I have those too).

Then in 1984, a bombshell. An English writer, David Yallop, claimed that John Paul I had been murdered in a book, In God’s Name, that became a best-seller – a work that I thought from the beginning to be pure fiction. But it spurred my interest in writing my biography and trying to refute his claims. At that time I was in graduate school, and started thinking about a trip to Italy to work on my thesis (which was on modern Italian history), and to do some research on the Pope at the same time. The university gave me a grant.

So in the fall of 1985, I went to Italy. I met Pope’s brother, Edoardo Luciani and his wife Anonietta, in Rome, and with them I attended the Mass celebrated by John Paul II marking the seventh anniversary of his death. I went with them to Canale D’Agordo, John Paul’s birthplace, and stayed with them in their home for a week (I even slept in the same guest room that the Pope had used on his visits home through the years). I traveled through the Veneto and interviewed those who knew Luciani in Belluno, Vittorio Veneto and Venice. I got the information I needed to refute Yallop’s claims. I put several years’ work into a full-scale biography of John Paul I. No major publisher in the U. S. would touch it (”not sensational enough”) they told me. That’s because I was going to claim he wasn’t murdered. No Catholic house I contacted would publish it either. “A major publisher should do it,” they said, “so more people will know the truth.” My work fell completely through the cracks.

In 1989 came new claims from another “journalist” (I use the term loosely), named John Cornwell, who actually got permission from the Vatican to investigate the Pope’s death within its walls. In the resulting book, A Thief in the Night, he too concluded that the Pope wasn’t murdered – instead he suggested that the new Pope was a simple country pastor, a nervous and timid character, who was incapable of handling the enormous responsibility, and longed to escape the intolerable burden of being Pope. He claims that John Paul was seriously ill and neglected by the Vatican staff. In short, he as good as willed himself to die. . . . An equally ridiculous conclusion for anyone who really knew anything at all about John Paul I’s life and papacy. I set out to add more material to this book to refute these new absurd claims. I got an English publisher interested. He wanted an American house to co-publish it, and started looking for one. But eventually everything fell through.

This took me to around 1994. I eventually had to acknowledge that the book wasn’t going to be published any time soon. I went back to graduate school at Fordham and eventually got my Ph.D. But with the help of the Missionary Servants of John Paul I, the Carmelites of Flemington, NJ, and other lovers of Papa Luciani, I have kept up my work, and translated many of his writings over the years for the English-language version of Humilitas; a collection of these translations was published in the book The Smiling Pope: The Life and Teaching of John Paul I, published in the U.S. in 2004 by Our Sunday Visitor Press. It was accompanied by a short biography by one of the Carmelite nuns in Flemington. This is the only accurate work in English so far. Countless other nonsensical theories about the Pope’s death are proliferating everywhere, many on the Internet.

Many petitions have been sent to Rome through the years, asking for the canonization process of John Paul I to be opened. John Paul II and now Benedict XVI (both of whom knew Albino Luciani as cardinals) have expressed deep admiration for him. On the third anniversary of Pope John Paul I’s election, John Paul II said to the people gathered for the Angelus: “Let us pray to good Pope John Paul I especially for the Church so greatly loved by him that he may obtain for us the grace of unity and sanctity.” Not quite canonization by fiat, but still pretty close. Before he was elected Pope Benedict XVI, Cardinal Ratzinger said of Papa Luciani in an interview, “I am completely convinced he is a saint.”

In 2003, the twenty-fifth anniversary of Luciani’s election and not long before John Paul II’s death, Rome gave permission for the diocesan process of his predecessor to be opened in Belluno (the diocese where he was born). It was concluded in November 2006, and the case in now in Rome. A miracle has been selected for evaluation. Perhaps his beatification will come soon. . . maybe even together in a joint ceremony with that of his successor, John Paul the Great. At any rate, I can now truly hope one day to venerate my dear Papa Luciani as Pope Saint John Paul I.

And with that, and the 30th anniversary of his death, I’m beginning to think my biography will have a chance. Plus, I now have a publishing company of my own to print it, if I can ever update it and finish it. I also have this blog now, to spread the word.

So you can expect me to be writing more in the next few weeks and months. I’ll talk about the Pope’s life, the truth about his death, and perhaps even post translations of a few of his writings. Se Dio vuole, “if God wills,” as Papa Luciani used to say.

And if you don’t believe me about his smile, or have forgotten, just watch this clip of his first blessing on the evening of his election (be patient, it’s at the very end).

Update on June 12

I got to thinking that the original video, which was not by me, is a little blurry — so I put together another one myself, from the news clips and pictures I’ve gathered, that I hope recreates the joyful feeling of those few days. (Check out the part beginning at 1:14 when he’s with the journalists and you’ll see what I mean!).

Wednesday, June 4th, 2008, by Lori and is filed under "Church issues, Pope John Paul I ". You can leave a response here, or send a Trackback from your own site.