John Paul II has died. The television pictures of that frail, physically impaired gentleman had long prepared us for the news of his passing. He was eighty-four years old, and had been in failing health for many years. May he rest in peace.
Popes have always interested me.
The austere, aristocratic figure of Pius XII contrasted with the almost folksy, rotund John XXIII who opened the windows of the Roman Church so that new breezes could blow in. Paul VI stood bravely before the United Nations and pled for peace in the days of the Vietnam War. Alas, his successor, John Paul I lived only a month after his election, to be followed by the robust Pole, who took the name John Paul II, to honor his immediate predecessors. I have read biographies of many of them, finding their leadership styles to differ, even if the power they held was in every case almost absolute. To this Presbyterian the idea that one man could be given absolute authority in matters relating to faith and morals has been incomprehensible. Yet, each of these men has also been very much a member of the human race, with individual characteristics, foibles, quirks that are common to all humanity.
Along with the rest of the world, the recently deceased Pope has captured my attention recently.
When Karol Wojtyla was elected, everything was changed. Not an Italian, and not elderly, this particular Cardinal seemed the most human of all the popes. He was seen in skiing gear, dressed as an ordinary person. He had trained for priesthood in an underground seminary in Poland during the terrors of the war years. He had written plays, and was a noted author on theological themes. What would this man bring to the Chair of Peter?
For starters, he was a key figure of support for Poland’s Solidarity Movement and thus contributed to the overthrow of an oppressive communist regime. He was a strong figure, mentally and physically, and his voice proclaimed the Gospel of freedom for his own people. While he was, and continued to be, open to dialogue with communist leaders (consider his visit to Cuba) he crusaded for the rights of people to self determination and freedom. Poland returned the favor. In whatever era, it has always been a strong Catholic country, producing many priests and religious who are often found in other countries, plugging the holes left by defecting and dying clergy, monks and nuns. The question is whether or not this will change. Religion may prosper best under tyrannical leaders. Faith may grow stronger when challenged.
John Paul’s strength and conviction may have disappointed those involved in the religious scene who hoped he might promote and encourage ecumenism. The time seemed right for an increase in the growth of tolerance and understanding among various Christian bodies, as well as among people of other faiths and no faith at all. His encyclical Ut Unum Sint (That They May All be One) seemed to move towards such goals. While robustly defending the right of the Roman Church to declare itself the One True Church, John Paul’s views seemed enlightened in contrast to Popes who declared that “error” has no rights. He met with the Archbishop of Canterbury. He confabbed with the Patriarch of Constantinople. He joined in prayer sessions with Muslim leaders. Change was in the air.
Then came Dominus Iesus.
Not directly authored by John Paul, this document was probably largely crafted by Joseph Cardinal Ratziger, who has made it exceedingly plain that churches rooted in the Reformation of the sixteenth and seventeenth century may have some graces and goods, but they have no right to be considered churches at all. They are “ecclesial communities” with imperfect theology and deficient sacraments.
John Paul signed this document, and it was promulgated. Did he agree with all of it? In my view, he did. It has offended the tiny cadre of more liberal bishops. Certainly, Ratziger’s views are not consonant with more moderate Walter Cardinal Kaspar, President of the Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity (and a former diocesan bishop), who has noted that as a bishop he had to deal with pastoral situations not faced by cardinals in the Curia.
One can expect that the Roman Pontiff will always be conservative on issues of personal and community morality. I cannot imagine even the most progressive pope favoring artificial birth control or euthanasia. Nor can I entertain the notion that Presbyterians, Lutherans, or Anglicans would be invited to join in sacramental worship within the bounds of any Catholic church. Those who surrounded John Paul are persons like himself. They are deeply convinced of the truth of a (Roman) Catholic faith delivered by the apostles, the right of the church to be governed by male persons, and the need to rein in any wilder ecumenical forces. Even though women and girls serve at the altar in American churches, I have not seen female servers in the televised services at St. Peter’s. To be fair, women do lead prayers and read Scripture in that elaborate setting.
What has John Paul’s papacy accomplished? Much in every way. He has been a voice for political freedom, if not for unlimited freedom. He has proclaimed that all life is sacred, which is surely a Gospel value. He has been an inspiration to younger people who have rallied in his support. He has headed a church that still sees some growth in the world while many Protestant denominations decline.
John Paul has also seen a slide–the importance of the Roman Catholic Church in Europe has slipped, with even stalwart Ireland feeling the pinch when it comes to vocations to the priesthood.
He has polarized thinking in his own church on the issues of ecumenism, and created an atmosphere in which even his benign, smiling presence could not conceal his disinterest in communions not in harmony with Rome. He pressured the various sections of his church to enforce official teaching and to act uniformly. One example is the recently published General Instruction on the Roman Missal, which defines with great precision what one may or may not do in worship to the point of requiring that people bow, kneel, sit, and stand in a uniform manner each time they gather for the Eucharist.
In a more minor vein, John Paul has expanded the Mysteries of the Rosary, and increased the intensity of Marian devotion by visiting the sacred grotto of Lourdes. None of these emphases should impair the wide search for church unity, but some Protestants may view them as returning to another time.
Now he is gone. The once robust figure, reduced to infirmity, dressed in colorful papal attire, attuned to the theatrics of his calling, has answered the last call. One might wait for the upcoming (as I write) conclave and the election of a new pope with bated breath. Who will be the next pope?
Speculators may take bets that he will come from Africa or South America. Africa has seen a boom in Catholic numbers while South America is dealing with the rise of Pentecostalism. Will the pope be an Italian? My bet is no. He will not be an American, or from Asia.
We all continue to live and serve God in interesting times as John Paul II enters the eternal realm.
LAWTON W. POSEY is a retired minister living in Charleston, W.V.
