For a year, he worked alongside the parish priest Kazimierz Buzała and three other vicars. At the same time, he taught religion in five elementary schools scattered through the countryside, for about thirty hours a week, and also supervised the Catholic Girls Association. To speak in simple words, to work hard, frequently in the face of challenging social and economic conditions, and to live in a rural environment that was so different from his academic background constituted a genuine pastoral challenge for an intellectual like Father Karol.
The parishioners were deeply impressed by his extraordinary Eucharistic devotion, which was manifested in long sessions of adoration of the Most Blessed Sacrament. It was not uncommon for Wojtyła to spend part of the night in prayer before the altar, stretched out on the floor, his arms spread in the sign of the cross. As one eyewitness put it, “The presence of Christ in the tabernacle allowed him to have a very personal relationship with him: not merely to speak to Christ, but actually to converse with him.” After observing the behavior of the young chaplain for a time, his housekeeper prophesied: “You will become a bishop.”
In October 1948, Cardinal August Hlond died, and the Polish church chose a young archbishop, forty-seven-year-old Stefan Wyszyński, to replace him as primate. The episcopate was determined to bring to bear its most effective forces in the battle against Communism, to combat the spread of Marxist ideas. In accordance with this general policy, on August 17, 1949, Cardinal Sapieha decided to transfer Father Karol to the Parish of St. Florian in Cracow, located not far from the Jagiellonian University.
The parish priest, Monsignor Tadeusz Kurowski, put him in charge of the catechesis of the upper classes of the liceum and gave him pastoral responsibility for the university students. Wojtyła invited the university students to a weekly Thursday session on crucial questions about spirituality and the existence of God—powerful topics in a general environment choked with Communist propaganda promoting militant atheism. In order to better illustrate his thoughts—which often involved subtle theological issues—he prepared outlines and had them mimeographed on newsprint.
It was in this university setting that a circle of close friends developed who spent holidays together and, in a number of cases, later became married couples. And it was on the foundation of the conversations of that period that Wojtyła’s theology of the human body and of marriage took shape and definition. His well-known book Love and Responsibility, published in 1960, was originally the text of spiritual exercises that he suggested for engaged couples.
On their first excursion, to the village of Kozy, the group slept in the parish church of Father Franciszek Macharski, who later replaced Pope Wojtyła as archbishop of Cracow. This was the beginning of a long series of outings, which often involved travel by kayak. Every morning Mass was celebrated, and, after the reading from the Gospels, there was a short sermon featuring a phrase upon which the group was to reflect for the rest of the day. Father Karol loved spending time with people, but he also loved those kayak trips because, paddling by himself or with at most one companion, he had the luxury of thinking and reflecting in perfect freedom. It was a source of great joy for him when, in the year 2000, a group consisting of three generations of those long-ago friends came to see him at Castel Gandolfo for what was dubbed “dry kayaking.” They presented John Paul II with a canoe on the lawn of Castel Gandolfo, they sang songs in honor of their “uncle,” and after the ceremony no fewer than 120 people greeted him one by one.
To get the young people in his parish involved, Father Karol also had the idea of founding a choir, which began with five boys and the same number of girls. The first musical repertoire they put together was a selection of Kolędy, the Christmas hymns of which Poland has such a rich tradition. Then the young assistant parish priest asked his actor friend Jan Adamski to lend a hand, and he managed to stage a Lenten mystery play, produced in church during the Easter season of 1951.
TOTUS TUUS
Father Karol’s activism and his cultural background made an impression on Archbishop Eugeniusz Baziak, who had become the religious leader of Cracow after Cardinal Sapieha’s death on July 23, 1951. Baziak decided to push him toward university teaching, and so in September 1951 Wojtyła began studying for the examinations to qualify as a lecturer in ethics and moral theology. He received his certificate in December 1953, with a thesis entitled “An Evaluation of the Possibility of Constructing a Christian Ethics on the Basis of the System of Max Scheler.” As luck would have it, his teaching certification was the last issued by the Department of Theology of the Jagiellonian University. A few months later that department was suppressed by the Communist authorities.
Father Karol immediately began teaching, at the Seminary of Cracow and the Catholic University of Lublin, until he was formally appointed on November 15, 1957, as an untenured lecturer. To show the importance he attributed to this office, suffice it to say that from 1967 on—when as cardinal he no longer had the freedom to travel physically to Lublin—he taught the lessons in the archiepiscopal residence, paying for the students to travel to Cracow out of his salary as professor.
Alongside his teaching duties, he continued to look after his young people, well aware that direct involvment in pastoral activities was much more than an “extra,” and in fact constituted the very essence of his calling as a priest. It was, therefore, no accident that the official notification of his appointment as auxiliary bishop of Cracow should reach him while he was out on one of his regular summer excursions, in July 1958. His summons to an audience with the cardinal primate Stefan Wyszyński had been communicated to him some days previously. And so Father Karol had left his cassock with a friend in Warsaw before he nonchalantly set out, wearing a light shirt and shorts, in a canoe to paddle the Łyna River.
On July 3, 1958, he left the group and, accompanied by his friend Zdzisław Heydel, landed not far from the village of Olsztynek. He was able to hitch a ride on a truck loaded with sacks of flour and get to the railroad station, where a late-night train was scheduled to leave for Warsaw. He had his sleeping bag with him but, as he recalled later, “there was no need, because I did not sleep a wink.” On July 4, he appeared punctually at the bishop’s palace on Miodowa Street, and Cardinal Wyszyński informed him of the decision of the Holy See. Wojtyła was ready with an objection: “Your Eminence, I am too young, I’ve just turned thirty-eight.” The primate answered ironically, “That is a shortcoming of which you will rid yourself soon enough. I beg you not to resist the will of the Holy Father.” Wojtyła had no choice but to accept.
The following day he traveled to Cracow to inform Monsignor Baziak and to ask permission to return to his friends at the campsite on the Łyna River. At first, the archbishop resisted, explaining that it struck him as inappropriate, but Father Karol argued, “What about the fact that it’s Sunday? Who will say Mass for them? It will be a privation.” At that point, Baziak yielded, and sent him off with a smile: “Go on, then. But please come back in time for your consecration!”
The rite was scheduled for September 28, the liturgical feast of St. Wenceslaus, patron saint of the Wawel Cathedral. The ceremony called for a number of symbolic gifts to be offered in the name of the newly consecrated auxiliary bishop by persons close to him. Six friends brought the candles, bread, and wine. “I didn’t have a family, I had you,” Wojtyła later said to those he had chosen as “representatives.” The celebration continued in the seminary, where the guests were welcomed for a frugal reception, and it concluded in the sanctuary of Częstochowa. There, at dawn, Wojtyła celebrated Mass for his closest friends in the chapel of the miraculous icon of the Black Madonna.
It was in honor of the Virgin Mary that he chose to have his episcopal crest bear the motto “Totus tuus,” inspired by the doctrine of St. Louis-Marie Grignion de Montfort. These are the opening words of a sentence in which the saint expressed his will to belong entirely to Jesus through the medium of the Virgin Mary: “I am all yours, and all that I have belongs to you, O most loving
Jesus, through Mary, your most holy Mother.”
As the bishop explained, “This saint’s teaching has had a profound influence on the Marian devotion of many of the faithful and on my own life. It is a lived teaching of outstanding ascetic and mystical depth, expressed in a lively and passionate style that makes frequent use of images and symbols.” An old friend of his, Cardinal Andrzej Maria Deskur, confirmed: “His devotion to the Virgin Mary certainly directed my life to a great degree. Already in Cracow he explained to me the significance of the holy slavery of St. Louis-Marie Grignion de Montfort. He used to say that we must serve God the way that Mary did, in a state of complete abandonment.”
ALL IN THE LIGHT OF FAITH
For four years, Wojtyła was a tireless assistant, in every aspect of the episcopal ministry, to Archbishop Baziak, who was weakened by illness. After Baziak’s death, it was therefore natural that the chapter of Cracow elected him to serve as vicar capitular until the Holy See should name the new diocesan authority. In reality, the senior auxiliary bishop was Monsignor Julian Groblicki, and during the assembly of July 16, 1962, Wojtyła had stressed that point in urging that Groblicki be chosen. But the chancellor of the curia, Monsignor Kuczkowski, an impressive figure, knelt before Wojtyła and begged him, in the name of the needs of the church of Cracow, to accept the office of vicar capitular.
Three months later, on October 5, Monsignor Wojtyła left for Rome to take part in the first session of the Second Vatican Council, from October 11 to December 8, 1962. He repeated the journey the following year, from October 6 until December 4, on the occasion of the second council session, and afterward traveled as a pilgrim to the Holy Land from December 5 to December 15. Even as he retraced the earthly footsteps of Jesus Christ, he was aware that just two weeks later, on December 30, 1963, his appointment as archbishop of Cracow would be made public.
There was immense joy in the diocese, and on March 8, 1964, when his solemn consecration was celebrated in the Wawel Cathedral, many of the faithful were unable to enter the overcrowded church. There was an equally intense wave of warmth toward him a few years later, during the celebration of the Sacrum Millennium Poloniae (Poland’s Sacred Millennium) in 1966. Wojtyła celebrated Mass in the parish church of Szczepanów, birthplace of the bishop and martyr St. Stanisław, patron saint of Poland. In an outpouring of love and enthusiasm, the faithful carried him in their arms from his automobile to the altar.
A funny story is told about the millennium celebration in Tum Łęczycki that year. It was raining heavily, and water had filled the baldachin over the altar. Someone tried to relieve the weight of the water by lifting a corner of the awning, but misjudged the angle, and all the water poured onto the archbishop, who nonetheless maintained a demeanor of imperturbable stoicism.
With his auxiliary bishops, who grew in number to four in April 1970—besides Groblicki there were also Stanisław Smoleński, Jan Pietraszko, and Albin Małysiak—Wojtyła established a collegial working style, with a weekly meeting during which they could talk over the current issues. These problems, he emphasized from the outset, were to be addressed first of all from the point of view of faith. Joining the group, on each occasion, were the directors of the various diocesan offices, such as the chancellor, the notary, or the various directors.
One of his auxiliary bishops testified that “in his episcopal ministry he took inspiration from the pastoral models of St. Stanisław, who was martyred in order to defend his people against the abuses of the Polish king Bolesław, and St. Charles Borromeo, his patron saint, the bishop of the reformations of the Council of Trent. In the light of those examples, Wojtyła distinguished himself in his courageous defense of the Polish people against the Communist dictatorship, supporting their right to religious freedom and liberty of worship.”
In Cracow, as one witness recounted during the beatification process, the archbishop “invited to his home the various social groups: intellectuals, professionals in the cultural and academic sectors, lawyers, and health providers. In that way he encouraged and reinforced, offered support, and provided ideas. On all these occasions he took the opportunity to speak, so that everyone who attended these very well organized meetings would have something to remember from them. He was a very good speaker, and he had a highly developed sense of humor.”
Even while he was bishop he continued to devote special attention to his pastoral duties to the young, whom he saw as the great hope of the Church. This ministry, he said, was in his blood, and in fact he never neglected it at any time in his life. He worked to provide young people with spiritual guidance, maintaining personal contacts and spending time in conversation with them. He was aware of the fundamental importance of catechesis, and he urged priests to set up special courses for all age groups, until the teaching of religion was again allowed in the public schools.
THE LESSONS OF VATICAN II
Wojtyła was much involved in the work of the Second Vatican Council. After taking part in the first two sessions, he also attended the third (September 14–November 21, 1964) and the fourth (September 14–December 8, 1965). The archbishop spoke during the assembly a total of eight times, submitted thirteen written memos, and contributed to three more with other priests at the council. He was a member of the Commission for the Study of Population Growth, the Family, and the Birth Rate, and he took an active part in the subcommittee entrusted with the drafting of the working document, Schema XIII, that would serve as the foundation of the pastoral constitution, Gaudium et Spes (Joy and Hope). This was a fundamental experience for him, and it later bore fruit in the form of the book Sources of Renewal: The Implementation of Vatican II, written to impress upon his own priests and the faithful at large the importance of incorporating the council doctrine in the ordinary pastoral care of the diocese of Cracow.
He focused in particular on three topics: the Church, freedom of religion, and the contemporary world. Addressing the ecclesiological question, Wojtyła suggested that, in the final draft of Gaudium et Spes, the chapter on the people of God should come before the chapter on the Church hierarchy, showing the high consideration he felt for the community of the faithful. A consideration that—at a time when many saw the lay community as little more than simple executors of the decisions made by the ecclesiastical hierarchy—Wojtyła expressed through minor gestures as well. Speaking during the debate on the apostolate of the laity, for instance, he began with a sonorous “Venerabiles patres, fratres et sorores” (Venerable fathers, brothers, and sisters); he was thus the only speaker to publicly emphasize the presence at the council of a number of women attending as auditors.
On the topic of religious freedom, his remarks highlighted, on the one hand, how faith can never be the target of coercion on the part of the civil power and, on the other, that entrusting freedom of faith to personal responsibility does not mean opening the door to religious indifferentism.
Wojtyła left his deepest mark, however, on the outline of the relationship between the Church and the contemporary world. Working on the draft of the document, he offered a series of observations on the excessively moralistic tone of the text and the placement of the Church at too high a remove from the world. In the section of the document that he edited, there is a rather forceful insistence on identifying atheistic Communism as a fundamental problem facing the contemporary Church. The subcommittee, however, rejected his text, considering it excessively focused on atheism.
The theologian Yves Congar was asked to rework the text, which, amid lively discussions, he turned into the fourth chapter of Gaudium et Spes. We can now read in Mon Journal du Concile (My Council Diary) the notes that Congar—created cardinal by John Paul II in 1994—made at the time: “Wojtyła made a very strong impression. His personality is imposing. It radiates a magnetism, an attraction, a certain prophetic force, very calm but indisputable.”
In a critique of the final draft, in the speech that he made to the assembly on September 28, 1965, Wojtyła raised two objections. First of all, he undersc
ored the absence of Christian realism in the vision of the world set forth in the text and criticized the facile optimism of those pages. Second, with reference to atheism, he declared that “it would be appropriate to distinguish between atheism that springs from personal convictions and atheism that is imposed from outside with pressures of all kinds, physical and moral, especially when it becomes impossible to profess one’s own faith in public and official life, and one is almost forced to profess atheism, so that the education of the young is steeped in atheism, even when the parents are opposed.”
In the end, not even the slightest reference was made in the council documents to the question of Communism (in the index of the Second Vatican Council, the term never appears). A silence that the archbishop deeply regretted.
RECONCILING CULTURE AND PASTORAL DUTIES
Within the Polish Episcopal Conference, of which he was vice president, Karol Wojtyła worked especially on cultural relations with the universities and the pastoral care of the laity. As chairman of the Episcopal Commission on the Laity, he did everything within his power to ensure that, in accordance with the wishes of the Second Vatican Council, the lay faithful could take on important tasks in the life of the Church.
He certainly expended an equal effort on ensuring cultural enterprise and raising the academic standards of theological studies in the diocesan seminaries: he saw this as the only way to prepare competent professors for theological universities. At his initiative, the so-called Academic Board was established, under his personal supervision.
Why He Is a Saint Page 4