Requiescat in Pace

John Paul II is the only Pope I've ever known.

He was already Pope when I entered the Catholic Church. I live in a parish founded by Polish settlers; still made up largely of descendants of those settlers; and served by a priest born and raised in Poland.

There is a hole in our hearts today.

But not just ours. Friday, after it became evident that he was sinking fast, several Protestants mentioned to me how much it was affecting them. In St. Peter's Square on Saturday, Jews came to pay their respects. Muslims prayed for him on Friday, their sabbath.

The pundits will spit out reams, I'm sure, telling us why he was so important, why his death affects so many outside the Church. They will talk about world leaders, and about Communism, and about the balance of power. But I have a very simple explanation.

He loved us.

By "us," I don't mean just Catholics. He loved people, all people; and they knew that, and responded to it. People lined up by the hundreds of thousands to see him pass by in the distance; no matter how he or they felt about birth control, celibacy, female priests. It was his love for them that brought them out. Brought them out in the heat, in the cold, in the rain; brought them out to sing "JP 2, we love you!"

One of the titles of the pontiff is "Servant of the Servants of God." Few popes, unfortunately, have truly embodied that title.
John Paul II did.

Karol Wojtyla
laborer, author, priest
Servant of the Servants of God
1920 - 2005

" . . . and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest."