Talking Point

with Simon Thomsen

A man for all reasons

When Pope John Paul II first addressed the crowds gathered in St. Peter's Square following his election on October 22, 1978, he began with three words that have echoed down through Christianity: "Be not afraid."

The angels offered the same comfort when they appeared before Mary and Joseph. Jesus said it to Peter.

Scholars, theologians and Vatican watchers will no doubt continue to weigh the relative merits of his Papacy, but what is indisputable is the profound impact his 26 years as leader of the Catholic Church has had on all people and all nations, irrespective of their faith. He was the most ecumenical of Catholics, opening his arms to embrace all the world's religious and political leaders (with the notable exception of communists). Critics will argue that he was the most masculine of popes, firm and conservative in his views of issues such as women and homosexuality, but he also held out his hand to so many beyond his billion-strong Catholic flock.

Readers old enough to remember a generation back will recall the tragically brief reign of John Paul I, who died 34 days after his election in 1978. There is an amusing coincidence in the perception that John Paul II was chosen as a stop-gap pope, much like John XXIII - 'Good Pope John' - whose personal warmth, humour and kindness initially helped transform the Papacy into the modern era during his long reign from 1963 to 1978. Perhaps God enjoys the odd joke on mortals trying to divine His wisdom. John Paul II has built on the legacy of his predecessor, taking his holy mission to the world. But it's in his secular efforts that the Pope has impressed both believers and non-believers. While his message was rooted in the central tenets of Christianity, he reminded the world's leaders of their responsibilities in dealing with the most basic of human traits: kindness, compassion and generosity. It was a message with resonance for all, which in part explains the unprecedented response to his death.

He also demonstrated courage and clarity during the long, slow decline of his illness, turning his suffering into a public statement of his convictions. It was moving, sad and deeply human. In his pain and frustration, we saw ourselves.

In 1984, the Pope, perhaps with Divine prescience, wrote of suffering "there is a concealed power which draws a person closer to Christ. When this body is gravely ill, totally incapacitated, and the person is almost incapable of living and acting, all the more does the interior maturity and spiritual greatness become evident".

Be not afraid.

He was a man of his word.