The Pope's Death - Reflections
As with most great or famous people, their legacy comes into full light upon their death.
I have been in the presence of many in the “blonia” (a large field) in Krakow for papal mass in 1979 and then in 1999. I have a vague memory of the 1979 mass (I was but 4 years old), but I do recall the crowds and the spirit that took over the crowd in the pope’s presence. The 1999 mass did not take place as it was cancelled because the Pope was too ill. I still have shivers today as I recall what it felt like when a crowd of almost one million fell silent at the news of the pope’s illness and then begin to pray and sing. I can’t explain it. At that point I was a participant. There were tears in my eyes – and now I know that when something resonates completely and truly with me, I have tears in my eyes.
I have heard my grandmother talk about the Pope – probably the only man in her life who she truly loved and felt that in some ways that he loved her as well. I have listened to my mother speak of the Pope as a man she admired, who touched her heart, and who taught a generation of Poles not to be afraid. I recall a brief conversation with a priest a couple of years ago about a documentary about the Pope – he expressed a profound dislike of the “american version” of the Pope: He explained that first and foremost the Pope was a religious man, a spiritual man, not a politician.
Perhaps those who mourn do so because the Pope struck at something profoundly personal. He was a symbol of something that was and is a part of them. And so, even though it feels far away or untouchable, it is still very real. In this way he united millions. He encapsulated a faith that penetrated millions. Often in the dark moments, in the misery, and in the despair, belief is the only food that the soul exists on. Somehow I find that beautiful and intensely human.
I find myself surprised at the reactions expressed by Canadians who express a great sense of loss by the Pope's passing – I truly don’t understand where this sense of loss steams from. Perhaps I don’t understand how the Pope has touched Canadian lives. Or, I am more accustomed to Canadian friends and acquaintances who either express a dislike towards him in general due to his religious and political positions or who simply do not have any direct impact from his passing – they are neither practicing or explain that they do not believe. So be it.
Reading a few articles, which did not gush over the Pope, but rather speak strongly in opposition to the Pope’s position on various issues, there is one point which I found particularly striking – why is one man’s death more important than the death of the thousands that die silently everyday? In some ways, it is a rhetorical question. In some ways, this is not unique to the Pope’s death. I feel that the Pope’s death does not diminish the daily death of countless others. However, our astounding recognition of his death and ignorance of these silent deaths does. Our response to his death demonstrates how we place human life on a very harsh hierarchical scale. And we create these hierarchies – at least we empower them with our activity, belief systems and behaviors.
I have been writing this piece for a while now. It’s been challenging because I find myself at the funny cross-roads (again) where the polish and canadian cultures that have had their influences in forming my thoughts, opinions and who I am, are having their influences in how I feel and respond to this man and to his passing. Here’s what I have settled upon that strikes true with my internal checking system: The Pope was a mortal man. He was old, he was sick, he lived an incredible life. Death seems the most natural thing in the world. His position made it impossible to satisfy everybody, so he stuck to what he knew. I am ever grateful what he has given to people like my grandmother and my mother – love and hope and the courage not to be afraid. I celebrate his life by lighting a candle and praying for all the silent deaths that take place every day with out expensive clothing, grand celebrations, and the witness of millions.
posted by Annatopia @ 7:15 AM
0 comments
