I wasn’t able to write anything on the actual anniversary of Pope John Paul I’s death, because I had be away from home. Only today have I found time to post again. In an online article from the September 29 issue of Il Corriere delle Alpi, the paper from Papa Luciani’s home diocese of Belluno, I read that at the Mass in the Basilica of San Marco in Venice on September 28, Cardinal Angelo Scola, Luciani’s successor in that see, hinted that he may be beatified soon; he is “in the light of canonical sanctity.” All the evidence is gathered, and very shortly the last testimonies on the miracle attributed to him will be sent to Rome.
Also on September 28, Pope Benedict XVI recalled John Paul I in his Angelus address at Castel Gandolfo. It is up only in Italian at the Vatican’s web site; I’m translating the whole text here. This Pope is very devoted to his predecessor; I am praying that he will soon be able to preside at his beatification.
Dear Brothers and sisters!
Today the liturgy proposes to us the Gospel parable of the two sons sent by their father to work in his vineyard. One of them immediately says yes, but then does not go; the other, on the other hand, refuses at the moment, but then, repenting, complies with his father’s wishes. With this parable, Jesus stresses his prediction for sinners who convert, and teaches us that it takes humility to welcome the gift of salvation. St. Paul too, in the passage from the letter to the Philippians that we are meditating on today, exhorts us to humility. “Do nothing out of rivalry or vainglory,” he writes, “but each of you, with all humility must consider others superior to yourselves” (Phil. 2:3). These are the same feeling that Christ had, when, stripping himself of his divine glory for love of us, became man and humbled himself to the point of dying on the cross (cf. Phil. 2:5-8). The verb used – ekenôsen – literally means that he “empties himself,” and clearly demonstrates the profound humility and infinite love of Jesus, the humble Servant par excellence.
Reflecting on these biblical themes, I thought immediately of Pope John Paul I, the thirtieth anniversary of whose death falls today. He chose the same episcopal motto as Charles Borromeo: Humilitas. A single word that synthesizes the essential of the Christian life and indicates the indispensable virtue of the one who is called to the service of authority in the Church. In one of the four general audiences held during his pontificate, he said, among other things, with that familiar tone that he was noted for: “I will limit myself to recommending a virtue so very dear to the Lord. He has said: “Learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart” . . . Even if you have done great things, say: ‘We are useless servants.’ (Luke 17:10). On the contrary, the tendency in all of us is rather the opposite: to put ourselves on display.” (Insegnamenti di Giovanni Paolo I, p. 51-52). Humility can be considered his spiritual testament.
Thanks to this virtue, 33 days were enough for Papa Luciani to enter into people’s hearts. In his discourses he used examples drawn from the concrete events of life, from his family memories and from popular wisdom. His simplicity was a vehicle for a solid and rich teaching that, thanks to the gift of an exceptional memory and a vast culture, he embellished with numerous citations from ecclesiastical and secular writers. In this way he was an incomparable catechist, in the footsteps of St. Pius X, from his native region, his predecessor first in the chair of St. Mark and then on that of St. Peter. “We must feel little before God,” he said in that same audience. And he adds: “I am not ashamed to feel like a child before its mama; we believe in our mamas, I believe in the Lord, in what he has revealed to me.” (ibid., p. 49). These words show the depth of his faith. While we thank God for have given him to the Church and the world, let us treasure his example, committing ourselves to cultivating the same humility that made him capable of speaking to everyone, especially the little ones and the so-called distant ones. Let us invoke for this purpose Most Holy Mary, the humble servant of the Lord.
The title of this post is a metaphor that’s been flying around the web since that final Mass in Yankee Stadium, and it’s a very apt one: After a week of binding our wounds, consoling us, inspiring us and gently pointing out, as Professor Ratzinger might say, where we “need improvement,” Benedict ended his visit on an absolutely perfect note: in his homily, he gave the history of the American Catholic Church as it was, and a glorious vision of what it can be. He really wants to inspire us all to become saints.
I was on the motorcade route Saturday, and got some video, but the connection between my camera and my computer suddenly won’t work for some reason. I can’t put the video up until I figure out what’s going on. Plus I’ve been suffering from a cold and am barely able to function anyway. So I’ll just put a little description of it here.
I got to Fifth Ave. and 60th street at around 9 a.m. There was a police security check on every block, so no one could get through without having their purses and bags looked into. But it only took a second, because there weren’t very many people there yet. Once I arrived on Fifth Ave., I was able to get into the first row, right up against the metal barricade. Standing very long hurts my legs, so after a while, I set all dignity aside and sat on the curb to get some relief, even putting my legs out into the street a little under the barricade. The police didn’t seem to mind. There were tons of police there, but they weren’t obtrusive in any way. Besides, everyone was very well-behaved, and they didn’t need to be told to get back in line. Vendors were having a field day selling little papal flags.
I spoke for a while with a man from Queens behind me, who gave me some commentary for the camera. He said he admired the Pope for his “great intellect.” By 11:30 or so, the crowd was enormous, filling up the sidewalks so no one could get through. All throughout, a Neo-Catechumenate group was singing across the street in Spanish. They sported several banners — in German. One said “Wilkommen Süßer Christus auf den Erden” - “Welcome Sweet Christ on earth.” Finally, I was delighted to hear the radio of a police officer just in front of me: “Take your positions: we have a departure.” We still had to wait about ten minutes for the motorcade to make its way up from St. Patrick’s. Then he was there! Waving and blessing. Too bad he had to be behind the windows of the Popemobile because of security precautions. The crowd went wild, waving their flags. I was taking video and shouting “Benedetto” at the same time. And then he was gone. Over four hours of waiting, and it was over in seconds. But it was really worth it.
I’m really going to treasure this week! God Bless Pope Benedict!
Just a note to say that if you’re anywhere within range of New York 1, the local NYC television channel, tune in and see some excellent papal trip commentary. I was listening to a young bearded man on the channel earlier today talking about the history of the papacy, enjoying his erudition and clarity of his presentation, and I thought, “Wow, he’s really impressive - why does he look so familiar?” It took a few minutes to realize that it was Chris Bellitto, one of my classmates in history at Fordham! (Well, a lot of water has gone under the bridge since then). Seriously, this is really good stuff.
I have been very remiss in not posting anything yet about the Pope’s visit to the U.S. And he arrives in New York tomorrow! But I have been tremendously busy, what with the documentary and other work; too busy to even think about getting tickets (even if there had been any left) for the Pope’s Yankee Stadium Mass. But I do hope to participate by going to Fifth Avenue to watch his motorcade on Saturday. And I have been following everything closely on TV.
This is the third U.S. papal visit I will have participated in personally, and I can’t say that I’m blase about it yet. The first was in 1979, during John Paul II’s first U.S. visit, when he actually came to within 50 miles of our Iowa home (now that’s service for you!). My whole family and I drove to Living History Farms to celebrate Mass with him. Right after we arrived, and were making our way across the field, I tripped in a depression in the ground and sprained my ankle. But I soon forgot about the pain, as well as hunger and thirst. It was terribly windy and threatening rain, but as soon as the Pope’s helicopter arrived, the sun came out, and the hours flew by. The Pope spoke about the land and its people, as we celebrated the Mass for the Feast of St. Francis, and he stood outlined against a clear blue sky. We were hoarse with singing and cheering. I took my cassette recorder with me and taped the whole thing — there were no digital cameras, DVD’s or VCR’s back then. The tape’s almost inaudible, but I still treasure it.
Then in 1995, at the beginning of my second year as a grad student at Fordham, I was was one of the volunteer ushers at John Paul’s Mass in Central Park, recruited from the area Catholic colleges and universities. We spent the night (or part of it) bunking on the floor at Fordham’s Manhattan campus near Columbus circle, got up somewhere around 3 a.m., walked all the way up Eighth Avenue to the entrance to the Mass site (must have been 20 blocks), and our time from 4:30 on shivering until people began to stream in around 5:30 — and the Mass was still hours away! We directed people to their places and handed out programs. Of course we got some of the best seats when our Pope arrived. The weather remained chilly, but we barely noticed it as we prayed, sang and cheered. I fell asleep in the subway going home.
Not to mention the times that I have seen the Pope in Rome; the first unforgettable one when I was with the family of the late John Paul I as his successor led the Mass for the anniversary of his death at St. Peter’s Basilica on September 28, 1985, the year that I began research on my book about him (which I still hope someday to publish). And then later, I attended the Mass the Pope celebrated opening the 1985 Synod of Bishops. Later that same trip, I caught a photo of John Paul II traveling through the Spanish Square on his way (I think) to a parish visit. After I while, even though I had never spoken to him, I began to feel he might recognize me if he saw me!
Then there was our unforgettable trip to Rome last February, when I spoke at the conference on St. Elizabeth. My mother, two sisters, my brother, and his wife and daughter all came with me. We went to Pope Benedict’s Wednesday general audience. For everyone but me, it was their first trip to the Vatican. We waited for almost two hours in the Basilica, before the Pope appeared with the bishops walking around the high altar with Bernini’s beautiful baldacchino. We found the audience unforgettable, but all too short; the crowd had to be divided into two because of the huge number of pilgrims expected. The Pope spent only about 15 minutes with us in St. Peter’s and the other 45 or so giving his main address in the Paul VI audience hall. This time, I managed to catch some of it on videotape.
The number of pilgrims is a wonderful sign of how the renewal of the Church is continuing under Pope Benedict. Everyone was wondering what he would be like during his first New York visit. I can’t really say what I expected, but so far he has exceeded all of my hopes in so many ways. His theme for the visit is “Christ our Hope” and he has really brought hope. Not the “happy clappy” kind as they say. Nothing cheap or platitudinous. He has spoken of some of the most sorrowful and even shameful things in our recent history: 9/11, Hurricane Katrina, the sex abuse scandal. He has tried to help us see how these troubles can be healed, and how Christian hope can help us. His theological teachings are wonderfully clear. And his manner really surprised me.
I must admit that when Cardinal Ratzinger was first elected Pope I knew relatively little about him. I knew that he was a prolific writer in theology, but I hadn’t read any of his books. I knew was disliked by most of the “liberal” contingent in the Church, as naturally anyone truly orthodox usually was. But some quotes from him (taken out of context, I’m sure), suggested someone with a stern attitude, and a dim view of the modern world. When he was elected Pope, three years ago, this week, I was at work. As we all paused to listen to the announcement and his first blessing from the balcony at St. Peter’s, I remember commenting to my boss, “he’s said to be very stern,” and he replied; “Good, he’ll get everyone in line; that’s what the Church needs.”
Reading Benedict’s book Jesus of Nazareth last year, really opened my eyes to the Pope’s scholarship, his persuasive style of argumentation, and his great love for Christ. But listening to him during all his speeches showed me something else: a gentle, thoughtful, compassionate man of God. True, he doesn’t have John Paul II’s dramatic style and gestures, or his easy, joking rapport with the crowd. He’s thinking along many of the same lines as John Paul — who he quotes frequently — but there is a difference. John Paul was forceful; when he scolded the flock, as he did at times, you knew you had been scolded. When Benedict speaks, he voice is very gentle, but still clear; he is content to to let his ideas and words speak for themselves.
And one gesture today has been worth more than anything else: he met quietly, unannounced, with some victims of priest sexual abuse from the Boston archdiocese. He let them speak and he listened. Just listened for the most part, apologized for the harm that had been done. The gratitude shown by the victims and the sense of healing are overwhelming. He is the Pope of Hope, indeed.
Welcome to New York, Pope Benedict. Ad multos annos!
P. S. I’ll take the video camera with me, and if all goes well, I’ll have something to post on YouTube. I’ll link to it here.
Pausing to look at all the sights on our way to Jerusalem. . . Mainly about faith, the Church, film, writing, famous Christian authors, and anything else I'm interested in at the moment.
Quote of the Month
"Anxiety cannot be cured by a surrender to passions and instincts; the basic cause of our anxiety is a restlessness within time, which comes because we are made for eternity. If there were anywhere on earth a resting place other than God, we may be very sure that the human soul in its long history would have found it before this."
