Have you noticed how much commentary about the passing of Pope
John Paul II talks about his leadership without addressing what
motivated that leadership?
Pundits of varying reputation rightly credit Karol Wojtyla with
leading the spiritual side of the fight against Communism and
secular humanism. They cite his charisma, his force of will, and
his political acumen.
But by the time they sandwich bits of biographical detail around
applause for the late Pope’s character, most pundits are flirting
with their 800-word limit. Only the consummate professionals probe
any deeper.
Charles Krauthammer may represent the best of this breed. He
glimpsed undiscovered country by contrasting the champions of life
and death:
“It was Stalin who gave us the most famous formulation of that
cynical (and today quite fashionable) philosophy known as ‘realism’
— the idea that all that ultimately matters in the relations among
nations is power: ‘The pope? How many divisions does he have?’
“
“Stalin could have said that only because he never met John Paul
II,”
Krauthammer continued. “We have just lost the man whose life was
the ultimate refutation of ‘realism.’ Within 10 years of his
elevation to the papacy, John Paul II had given his answer to
Stalin and to the ages: More than you have. More than you can
imagine.”
Beyond alluding to “the power of faith,” however, Krauthammer
did not speculate as to what (or, more accurately, who) gave moral
force to this bishop of Rome. His column was simply an uptown
version of what one Mike Gebert quipped in comments on a popular
blog as tribute to Karol Wojtyla and Lech Walesa — “Final Score
for the 20th century: Ordinary Poles, 2; German intellectuals,
0.”
The score would have been even more lopsided had Gebert thought
to round out his list with Sister M. Faustina Kowalska, the Polish
nun whose devotion to Divine Mercy was being celebrated by
Catholics when the pope died.
Similarly, while Paul Kengor, writing for National Review
Online, found an intriguing peg for his own appreciation of
John Paul II in the supernatural event that transformed Fatima,
Portugal, in 1916, he didn’t get into papal motivation, either.
The relative silence of other pundits on this question forced
Father Richard John Neuhaus to pick up the slack. Neuhaus runs his
own magazine, but wrote this for the New York Post:
“It is impossible to understand John Paul without understanding
that his entire thought and being was grounded in the incarnation,
the teaching, the suffering, death, resurrection and promised
return of Jesus Christ,” Neuhaus wrote, letting the proverbial cat
out of the bag.
Some of those Protestants who did not join Neuhaus in crossing
the Tiber to Catholicism are silent about papal motivation not
because they feel out of their depth, but because to credit Jesus
with inspiring the pope would force a re-examination of their own
prejudices. Doing that, they might find unwelcome confirmation of
what an American Spectator alumnus called the editor of
this publication’s “cheeky assertion” that “Among Christian
religions, only one is the genuine article, and it’s known as
Roman
Catholicism.”
Protestant failure to address papal motivation can be read as a
backhanded compliment to the late pontiff. For example, at least
one preacher on the militantly Calvinist edge of the reformed
tradition is of the opinion that the pope’s death represents a
chance for other Christians to “expose Catholic errors,” which by
his curious lights include “dogmatic denial of the gospel.”
Southern Baptist Theological Seminary president Al Mohler,
though not as quick to speak ill of the dead, still faults John
Paul II for never confronting “the most pressing issues of
evangelical concern.”
Consider the unconscious arrogance of that charge, which to
avoid ridiculousness must overlook the fact that John Paul II had
his hands full shepherding 1.1 billion fractious Catholics, staring
down the Soviet Union, mending fences with Jews, and striving for
rapprochement between Eastern and Western churches. While doing all
of that and maintaining a travel schedule that would shame airline
employees, the pope still found time to address other Christians in
such seminal documents as the encyclical letter “Ut Unum Sint.”
Let it be said for the record that John Paul II was a worthy
successor to Peter. His shortcomings were administrative rather
than pastoral. To call him a charismatic religious figure with a
shrewd sense of Communist weakness and lot of white in his wardrobe
is to miss the main thing, which was the relationship with Christ
in which he found purpose and consolation.
