Bishop Olmsted's Homily from
Mass of the Dead in Remembrance of Pope John Paul II
A sign of contradiction
In 1976, Pope Paul VI invited Cardinal Karol Wojtyla of Krakow,
Poland to lead the annual Retreat that takes place each year in
the Vatican for the Pope and his closest collaborators. Few, if
any at the time, would have guessed that, two years later, this
largely unknown figure from behind the Iron Curtain of communism
would be elected to the Chair of Peter in Rome. Cardinal Wojtyla
accepted the invitation and gave a retreat that focused on the
person of Jesus Christ and on the dignity of every human person,
from the moment of conception until natural death. His series
of talks drew richly upon the Sacred Scriptures and a broad spectrum
of classical and contemporary literature. One verse from the Gospel
according to Luke was lifted up by the Polish Cardinal to serve
as the cornerstone for all 22 talks he would give over the course
of the weeklong retreat: Luke 2:34, the prophetic words spoken
by Simeon to the Virgin Mary as she held the Child Jesus in her
arms, “Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising
of many in Israel, and as a sign of contradiction.”
“A sign of contradiction,” for the 55 year-old Wojtyla
and for the 84 year-old Wojtyla who died last Saturday, this prophecy
best captures the mystery of Jesus of Nazareth during His earthly
life, and the mystery of the living Risen Christ, still present
in the world through His Church. It also captures the experience
of the Church as she serves her Master in varied cultures of every
time and place. It certainly fits with Wojtyla’s experience
of being a follower of Christ, then a priest, a bishop, a Cardinal
and then Pope.
As a teenager, he witnessed the violent oppression of his homeland
by the Nazis of Adolph Hitler. Tens of thousands of Polish Jews
were rounded up and carted off to concentration camps, where they
would be murdered mercilessly. Many of these were his childhood
friends from Wadowice. 1/3 of all the priests and religious of
the Catholic Church in Poland would also die at Auschwitz and
other Nazi death camps. And when the Nazis were driven out of
Poland at the end of World War II, an equally oppressive and unjust
totalitarian regime suppressed the freedom of the Polish people,
with a special hatred for fervent believers in God, like Jews
and Catholics.
It was in this oppressive political climate that Karol Wojtyla
answered Christ’s call to serve Him in the Church. The Christ
he loved is the same one that most of us gathered in this Cathedral
tonight have come to love. He professed the same Creed that we
do every Sunday. And he served the same Lord with a joyful heart.
Still, what stood out especially for Wojtyla about Christ was
how often He, the Risen Christ, is a sign of contradiction. As
the 55 year old Cardinal said during his retreat conferences at
the Vatican in 1976, “[Christ’s] kingdom will come
in this world in accordance with the program of the beatitudes,
and we know that the poor are the blessed ones, the poor in spirit,
the meek, those who hunger and thirst for justice and those who
weep…” Then, he added this observation about the modern
world, “There is a desire to ‘re-shape’ [Christ],
to adapt Him to suit mankind in this era of progress and make
Him fit in with the program of modern civilization—which
is a program of consumerism and not of transcendental ends…
This opposition to Christ which goes hand-in-hand with paying
him lip-service--and it is found also among those who call themselves
His disciples—is particularly symptomatic of our times.”
For the man who would become John Paul II, then, contradiction
was an inherent part of Christ’s life and something to be
expected in the lives of Christ’s followers. Encountering
hardship and being contradicted for the sake of Christ, these
became a kind of gage for measuring his own fidelity to the Gospel:
the more opposition and difficulty the Church encountered the
more faithful it was being to Christ. After all Jesus had told
His followers (Jn 15:18-19), “If the world hates you, realize
that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, the world
would love its own, but because you do not belong to the world,
and I have chosen you out of the world, the world hates you.”
This mystery of contradiction reaches its summit at the hour
of death. For death makes no sense to those who do not believe
in the Resurrection, for those whose hearts are set on the things
of this world. As Saint Paul writes to the Corinthians (I Cor
15:15):
“If our hopes in Christ are limited to this life only,
we are the most pitiable of people. But as it is Christ is now
raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who have fallen
asleep.”
Is it not quite striking that the death-by-denial-of-food-and-water
to Terri Schiavo, which was such a source of contradiction and
conflict in America and which was roundly condemned by John Paul
II, should occur so near to the death of the Holy Father himself,
as he was being assisted with a tube for nutrition and hydration?
With eagerness of spirit and without fear, Pope John Paul II,
once elected to the Apostolic See of Peter, eagerly proclaimed
the Good News of Jesus Christ to people all around the world.
He did not set out to make enemies but to love his enemies and
to forgive those who persecuted him; yet he had no illusions that
his message would meet with acceptance or approval by all. He
knew it would be greeted with mixed response because Christ remains
today a sign of contradiction. He is a sign of contradiction,
in a particular way, in the face of an expanding culture of death.
For that reason, John Paul II spoke constantly of Christ’s
message as the Gospel of Life.
On his first visit to the United States in 1979, at a Mass in
Washington, D.C. he made this solemn promise on behalf of the
Catholic Church in this land and everywhere: “…we
will stand up every time that human life is threatened. When the
sacredness of life before birth is attacked, we will stand up
and proclaim that no one ever has the authority to destroy unborn
life.
When a child is described as a burden or is looked upon only
as a means to satisfy an emotional need, we will stand up and
insist that every child is a unique and unrepeatable gift of God,
with the right to a loving and united family.
When the institution of marriage is abandoned to human selfishness
or reduced to a temporary, conditional arrangement that can easily
be terminated, we will stand up and affirm the indissolubility
of the marriage bond…
When freedom is used to dominate the weak, to squander natural
resources and energy, to deny basic necessities to people, we
will stand up and reaffirm the demands of justice and social love.
When the sick, the aged or the dying are abandoned in loneliness,
we will stand up and proclaim that they are worthy of love, care
and respect.”
For John Paul II, it was not only a duty to proclaim the Gospel
of life and to be, in doing so, a sign of contradiction, it was
a great honor and even a joy. So, consistently and faithfully
to the end, that was his first priority. Many of you gathered
here tonight witnessed this firsthand in Phoenix.
Eighteen years ago, John Paul II was present in this very Cathedral
of Sts. Simon and Jude. On that occasion he spoke words that still
sound prophetic today. It was September 14, 1987, the Feast of
the Triumph of the Holy Cross, and the Holy Father said:
“It is easy to understand that God’s plan for us
passes along the way of the holy cross, because it was so for
Jesus and His apostles. Brothers and sisters: Never be surprised
to find yourselves passing under the shadow of the cross. Christian
life finds its whole meaning in love, but love does not exist
for us without effort, discipline and sacrifice in every aspect
of our life. We are willing to give in proportion as we love,
and when love is perfect the sacrifice is complete. God so loved
the world that He gave His only Son, and the Son so loved us
that He gave His life for our salvation.”
Tonight, we pray for the eternal repose of John Paul II, asking
God to grant him the reward of his laborers. We also thank God
for this man of faith who in the crucible of suffering refined
like gold his commitment to the Gospel of Life.
From beginning to end, John Paul II was focused on fidelity to
Christ and His Church. Perhaps his first message as pope, given
October 22, 1978, at the Mass inaugurating his pontificate, would
be fitting words with which to close my reflections. He said:
Be not afraid. Open the doors to Christ, the doors of your homes
and families, the doors of your businesses and careers, the door
of your mind and heart. Open the doors to Christ. And be not afraid.