Thoughts on the Passing of "Il Papa"

I'm proud of my Catholic roots - not holier-than-thou about it, but proud. I grew up attending church every Sunday and Catholic school since Kindergarten. I often joke to others about how it wasn't until college that I had to dress myself daily, thanks to being in mandatory uniform 5 days a week for the previous 13 years. Needless to say, some of the color combinations my freshman year at UGA were very amusing to my public schoolpeers ("Check out my white socks with brown dress shoes and black belt!"). Most stereotypes of Catholic schools are just plain wrong, however. I wasn't taught by any nuns, so I have no negative experiences involving rulers. Most teachers were parents of students or simply career educators. There was a priest that taught religion, but even he had a Masters in Education. And no, none of us were molested. There's also the rumor that us Catholic school kids are the true rebels. Not so. We had one pregnancy in 4 years (and the girl married the father), pot was the only illicit drug anyone touched, and there was maybe 1 keg party a year school-wide. We were squeaky clean, and I credit this more to the community than religious doctrine. As I said, alot of our teachers were parents, and often alumni, as well. Like Jews, we form very close communities that are both self-contained and self-supporting. This showed everyday K-12. There is no public school comparison to how fervently my school pushed for parental involvment, much to the chagrin of embarassed teens. Connected with this is the academic excellence of parochial schooling. Catholic schools aren't magnet schools or designed only for high-achievers, yet high-achievement is prevailing quality of the education. Parents and teachers care more, and the money doesn't come from Uncle Sam. Spiritual similarities and free-market economics combine for an amazing education. Of the people I went to school with, many went on to places like Georgetown, Notre Dame, UVA, etc. A UGA admission, even now with the higher standards, is a given for anyone in the top 1/2 of their class. I'm not slighting public schools, but the data supports the premise that private schooling (religious or otherwise) is uniformally better than public nation-wide.

Another common misconception, if not the most common, deals with the academic content of Catholic schooling itself. Yes, we have religion classes. Yes, they are mandatory. Yes, they count as much as math, history, etc. But they're not only Catholic-related. One semester my class dealt solely with Hebrew Scriptures. Another semester was an overview of Eastern religions. Yet another semester addressed larger questions of morality, human nature, and family living. Catholic themes were discussed in all, of course. But it wasn't just exaggerated Sunday School. Some of the materials I was exposed to are largely the reason I pursued religion as a minor at UGA. Other related misconceptions, however, are that we don't learn evolution, or don't read books like "Huck Finn" or what have you, because of questionable or downright offensive content. This is just not true. We did read "Huck Finn," but also Richard Wright's "Black Boy" (far more shocking and graphic than his "Native Son," which is the common read in the public system). "Catcher in the Rye" became one of my favorite books when I was assigned it for Sophomore English. Hell, in 8th Grade, I read the book "Fade" as assigned summer reading. For those who haven't read it, it's a disturbing and graphic fantasy novel about a boy who has powers of invisibility, which leads him to witness violent murders and even incestous relationships. Again, I was reading this the summer between 7th and 8th grade. Simply put, they don't censor or water down the curriculum. Remember, the emphasis is on academic excellence, and Catholic schools are not about to put themselves at a disadvantage to the public system. This is reinforced by the fact that few parents would seek to undertake the debt and cost of tuition if it would only result in their child being in a bad spot come college application time.

Outside of the uniforms, clergy roaming the halls, and higher academic standards, Catholic school is otherwise the same as the public variety. There's cliques, gossip, goths, drama, fights, and jock-worship. Surprisingly, most students do not come from rich families. Many students attend on financial aid. One of my best friends lived with his sister, also a student, in an apartment about 3 miles from school in not the nicest neighborhood you'll ever see. Furthermore, not even all the students are Catholic. You can go to Catholic school and not be Catholic, and many do, simply to take advantage of the academics. The preference, for obvious reasons, favors Catholics, but does not exclude others. Even though the drop-out rate is almost nothing, there are still wannabe badasses and burnouts (again, it's usually an act; very few of these "difficult" kids would last a second with thier peers at public school). The biggest differences are that pep rallies and prayers go hand-in-hand, and once in a while you all go to Church in the gym.

My Catholic school rant may seem like a tangent. It is. But I took the tangent approach to give a little context to my thoughts on the late, and extremely great, Pope John Paul II. You see, I was pretty hardcore religious in high school. Since college, on the other hand, I've been to Mass maybe 6 times in 6 years. I pray occasionally, but rarely follow any other practices (I had many a cheeseburger on Fridays during Lent since '99). Still, I defend my faith and religion vigorously against attack. My spiritual beliefs have evolved and changed, but I find most all Catholic doctrine is still consistent with the spirit of them - that there's a benevolent and all-powerful eternal creator, and this "thing that needs nothing other than itself to exist" holds the key to something beyond this life. Since religion is manmade, then religious beliefs can only be considered mythology or at least mythologized truisms. The belief that a virgin mother carried a living God may be true or false, but believing it is true is not inconsistent with believing this concept. It's just a big mouthful of more complex beliefs on top of these concepts. It's Paschal's Wager - even if you're wrong about the virgin, you shouldn't be hurt in terms of any kind of "salvation" available.

Bringing the Spirit to St. Louis

It was Catholic school that led me to the Pope. During my final year of high school, I became a Eucharistic Minister, which was open only to seniors. For those who don't know, all this means is that I was one of the people who gave Communion at Mass. It was a pretty big deal for most of us, and is representative of how into my faith I was at this time. So one day myself and the other EMs were offered the chance of a lifetime. The Atlanta Archdiocese had received several tickets to see the Pope say Mass during his visit to St. Louis. I went not only because I was particularly religious at this time, but because I was fascinated by the man himself.

So I took the opportunity and joined the other EMs and a handful of underclassmen for the long bus ride to the Lou. The trip was all fun and games; after all, I was on a free vacation to a city I had never visited before, while the rest of my class was stuck in class. Sure, I wanted to see the Pope, but I would have taken the holiday for anything. His Holiness was saying Mass in what is now the Edward Jones Dome in downtown St. Louis (where the Rams play). The Dome holds 66,000 people, but seating had been expanded to about 80,000. Pretty impressive audience, huh? Well, then it should really impress upon you that 80,000 is less than 1/2 of the people that were there. You see, we didn't even get to sit in the Dome. We watched the mass from monitors in a giant Convention center next door with 100,000 other people. 180,000 people came to see this one man. And what a group of folks. Outside the center waiting to get in, I saw monks in brown robes, nuns in full habit, and priests in their collars. I expect so much. I did not expect, however, to see rabbis, businessmen, housewives, teenagers, the homeless, and every single ethnic groups you could imagine. Everyone came to see this man. Though St. Louis is one of the biggest Catholic cities in the US, there were thousands of non-Catholics. I know this because during Communion, you could spot them sitting down while the Catholics went to receive the host. This blew my mind. The word Catholic means "universal," but never before had I seen such a tangible example of how universal something of my faith could be to others that didn't share it.

Though I didn't get a spot in the Dome itself, I learned quickly upon arriving that the Pope would be doing a tour of the convention center in his famous popemobile. Although it was starting to hit me, I hadn't anticipated fully how I would feel. Yet there I was, waiting for a glimpse.

And then he came. With a roar from the other side of the hall, I knew he had arrived. A rush of emotion came over me, and to this day, I'm not completely sure where it came from. It was like seeing a rock star. He whizzed by me, coming within probably 10 feet, while I hastily snapped as many pictures as I could. I followed his procession, running to the other side of the hall. I haven't had a feeling quite like that in my entire life - the man attracted me and everyone else there to him. People were emotional, as was I. And yet all he was really doing was waving from his bullet-proof enclosure. Something just emanated from that man that touched everyone - drew them towards him. And just like that, it was over.

The mass that followed was also something to behold. Never again will I be a part of such a massive gathering of people for religious purposes. His sermon was also effective, focusing on family and life issues, and yielding the now-famous quote: "As the family goes, so goes the nation, and so goes the entire world in which we live." Bear in mind this was only 6 years ago, so he was in much the same physical condition that he was upon his death last week. His facial muscles couldn't move due to the Parkinsons, so his words slurred as he labored to speak. But there was no doubt that every single bit of strength his body could muster was fully focused on preaching the message it was his calling to preach. Love. Peace. Courage. Hope. The man was a living embodiment of these, and so many other, values that go beyond religion.

A Final Message

Pope John Paul II was a man for the ages. He spoke over a dozen langauges, enabling him to speak the dialect of almost any country he visited. And visit he did - traveling to more parts of the world than any other Pope in the 2000+ year history of the Church. This made him the most seen man throughout human history. He is also distinguished as being the first non-Italian pontiff in almost 500 years. His reign, 26 years, is also one of the longest. Most of these credentials appear notable only in the context of his office. But this is a man that transcended the papacy, the Church, and even religion itself. He challenged dictators from Hitler to Castro. His support of the Solidarity movement in his homeland of Poland was crucial towards the eventual fall of Communism in Russia. Only now have we learned that it was the KGB that was behind the attempt on his life He bridged gaps between the Church and other religions, especially Judaism, as movingly shown in his visit to the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem. Pope John Paul II, in my opinion, is simply one of the greatest men who ever lived.

And yet, with all the political and spiritual influence he held by virtue of his office, it all boils down to love when you talk about Pope John Paul II. This is a man who personally forgave his assassin during a visit to his jail cell. The assasin, who at the time of his capture regretted only that the shooting failed to kill the pope, later converted to Catholicism following the meeting between the two. Incidentally, he requested last week to come to the Pope's funeral, calling him his "Brother in Christ" -- could you imagine Booth saying that about Lincoln? His love cracked the hardest of hearts. And make no mistake, he was adored by his followers, admired even by his critics, and respected by all. Watch a video of a papal visit and you will see the masses act much like I did that day in St. Louis - they were drawn to him. You see people literally rushing this man, reaching out simply to touch his hand or robe. And he was always even more eager, almost desperate, to get in the middle of them. Last week, as the Pope lay dying, he heard the sounds of the thousands holding vigil outside in St. Peter's Square as they prayed and sung for him. Though he could not speak, he got out a few words in Italian: "ho speso la mia vita intera che prova a venire a voi ed ora siete venuto a me. per questo sono riconoscente." Translated, he said: "I have spent my entire life trying to come to you, and now you have come to me. For this, I am grateful." Later, as the crowd sang "Ave Maria," he lay in the clutches of death, but those by his side saw his face turn red, and with all the strength he could muster, shout "Amen!" And at that moment, he was gone. I was fortunate enough to have not yet lost a parent or grandparent or other close family member. I say was because it's not true anymore. When the Holy Father died, I lost just that - a father. And I'm not alone. His passing took so much from the world's 1.2 billion-plus Catholics. As one of the cardinals put it upon the announcement of his death, "We all feel like orphans at this moment."

Il Papa...for all the love that we held for you, we could never match the amount of love you had for us. We will always remember you, love you, and miss you.