Witness to Hope

Home > Other > Witness to Hope > Page 187
Witness to Hope Page 187

by George Weigel

HarperCollinsPublishers (New Zealand) Limited

  P.O. Box 1

  Auckland, New Zealand

  http://www.harpercollins.co.nz

  United Kingdom

  HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.

  77-85 Fulham Palace Road

  London, W6 8JB, UK

  http://www.uk.perfectbound.com

  United States

  HarperCollins Publishers Inc.

  10 East 53rd Street

  New York, NY 10022

  http://www.perfectbound.com

  The passion play at Kalwaria sets the stage in Krzysztof Zanussi’s film From a Far Country, a fictional drama built around the life of Pope John Paul II. At the beginning of the movie the future pope, a young boy, watches the passion play unfold through the snow-covered hills of Kalwaria Zebrzydowska. One night he becomes separated from his father, who searches for him from tent to tent. He finally locates him in a smoke-filled tent where some of the actors are taking a break; the man who has played Jesus that afternoon is drinking a beer, while the youngster watches him wide-eyed. John Paul II was once asked whether this scene had any tether to history, but before the Pope could answer, his secretary interrupted with a laugh: “Yes, there was piccolo Carlo, scandalized because Jesus was drinking a beer…” The Holy Father grinned, perhaps a bit ruefully, and said that director Zanussi, a friend, had taken some artistic liberties with his biography.29

  Pope John Paul II was once asked whether his father had given him the middle name “Józef” in honor of Piłsudski, the founding hero of the newly independent Polish Republic. The Pope’s secretary, Monsignor Stanisław Dziwisz, laughed and said, “Franz Józef,” emperor of Austria-Hungary from 1848 to 1916.35

  In mid-December another refugee from Wadowice came to live in the apartment at Tyniecka, 10: Maria, Mieczysław Kotlarcyzk’s younger sister, then sixteen. The family was afraid that she would die if she was sent away for slave labor; so they sneaked her across the Skawa River in the dead of night and got her to Kraków by train. She lived with Karol Wojtyła and the Kotlarczyks until August 1942, at which point Wojtyła’s aunts, the owners of the building, fearful that the Gestapo might take reprisals if the unregistered Maria were discovered, suggested that she move elsewhere. Mieczysław Kotlarczyk got her to Krościenko, where she could obtain the identity card that was unavailable in Kraków to an escapee from the Reich. Karol Wojtyła didn’t agree with his aunts and told Maria that, if it were his decision, she could stay. Fifty years later, Maria Kotlarczyk Ćwikła remembers an atmosphere “without fear” in the “catacomb” apartment. It was more like a theater, she recalled, with rehearsals and recitals going on constantly. Her brother, ever the teacher, gave her a bibliography to work through so that she wouldn’t waste the year away.78

  The Unbroken Prince is the title of a play by Juliusz Słowacki, an adaption of a seventeenth-century drama by Pedro Calderón de la Barca, which tells the story of the martyrdom of Prince Ferdinand of Portugal, who died because he refused to give a Christian town to the Muslims in exchange for his own life.119

  Father Karol Wojtyła’s academic teaching career began in October 1953, when he took over a course in Catholic social ethics in the Jagiellonian University’s Faculty of Theology. When the faculty was suppressed by the regime in early 1954, Wojtyła continued to teach the social ethics course in the school of theology that was quickly organized for seminarians, who now had no university-based theology courses to attend. Like his Jagiellonian course, these seminary courses ran for two hours a week, and Wojtyła taught them throughout the 1950s.

  Wojtyła took over the social ethics course almost accidentally. The course had been taught for years by Father Jan Piwowarczyk, the former ecclesiastical assistant at Tygodnik Powszechny and a specialist in the field. When he was suddenly assigned to teach the course in 1953, Wojtyła adopted Piwowarczyk’s course notes, which were based on the older priest’s two-volume book on the subject. Wojtyła added the emendations he thought appropriate, but substantively, the course remained essentially as Piwowarczyk had taught it. As a very junior faculty member who had not done extensive work in social ethics, Wojtyła saw no need to reinvent material that had been developed by one of Poland’s leading scholars in the field. Copies of the Piwowarczyk notes as developed by Wojtyła were later typed out, duplicated, and circulated as intellectual samizdat under the title Catholic Social Ethics.

  Catholic Social Ethics is a rather conventional presentation of the Church’s social doctrine in the 1950s. Poland’s special circumstances gave a sharp edge to some issues. But while he courageously and in some instances bluntly criticized communist understandings of the social nature of human beings and communist ideas of politics and economics, here, too, Wojtyła (who did not think of himself as a specialist in social ethics) broke no new ground. Catholic Social Ethics gives us a window into the Polish discussion of these questions between World War II and the Second Vatican Council. Its primary value today is to establish a baseline from which to appreciate the creativity of the social doctrine of Pope John Paul II.32

  Communio personarum, a Latin term that Wojtyła prefers to any Polish word or its equivalent, is the phrase that best captures Wojtyła’s fascination with love and the Law of the Gift: that one can’t develop as a human being except by giving oneself, in which, paradoxically, one finds oneself.

  Person and Act is very much part of the unfinished symphony of Karol Wojtyła’s philosophy. Thirty years after its initial appearance, a definitive Polish edition had not been published, although the second and third Polish editions (edited by several of Wojtyła’s students and other philosophical colleagues) were major improvements over the first edition; the third edition included several articles by Wojtyła, developing themes in the original work.82 German (1981), Italian (1982), Spanish (1982), and French (1983) editions, of varying degrees of reliability, have been published. But the most serious problems were with the English translation and edition of the work.

  Anna-Teresa Tymieniecka, a former student of Roman Ingarden living in Boston and active in world phenomenological circles, had published several articles of Wojtyła’s in Analecta Husserliana, the yearbook of phenomenology she edited, thus helping to bring his work to the attention of philosophers around the world. Much impressed by the first Polish edition of Osoba i czyn, she proposed publishing a revised and elaborated text of the work in English. Cardinal Wojtyła agreed and worked through numerous revisions and elaborations with Dr. Tymieniecka. The result, according to virtually everyone involved, was a much-improved text. This revised Polish text was then translated into English by Andrzej Potocki and sent to Dr. Tymieniecka in the United States for publication. Several knowledgeable persons close to the process claim that, at this point, Dr. Tymieniecka significantly changed the Potocki translation, confusing its technical language and bending the text toward her own philosophical concerns, to the point where the reader is, on occasion, not really in contact with Wojtyła’s own thought.83 These problems only surfaced after Wojtyła had been elected Pope. At that juncture, he had no time to check through hundreds of pages of text, and appointed a commission composed of Father Styczeń, his old friend Father Marian Jaworski, and Dr. Andrzej Połtawski (a Kraków-based philosopher and the husband of Dr. Wanda Połtawska) to review and correct the revised English translation text that had been prepared by Dr. Tymieniecka. But she refused to take corrections from anyone other than Wojtyła and, moreover, was eager to publish the book quickly to capitalize on the author’s election as Pope. Dr. Tymieniecka also claimed that she had Wojtyła’s agreement to publish her retranslation as the “definitive text of the work established in collaboration with the author by Anna-Teresa Tymieniecka,” although why a truly “definitive text” would (like the edition Dr. Tymieniecka proposed to publish) have two chapter sevens, one of which is labeled “unrevised,” was not made clear. In any case, Dr. Tymieniecka went ahead with the publication of the text she had prepared, to the intense aggravation of many of Wojtyła’s ph
ilosophical colleagues and students. Years of private argument ensued between the Holy See’s publishing house, the Libreria Editrice Vaticana, which holds the rights to all of Wojtyła’s pre-papal work, and Reidel, the Dutch house that had published the English edition. These resulted in an agreement to publish a corrected English edition. The corrected edition was prepared but has never appeared. Dr. Tymieniecka continues to insist that hers is the “definitive” edition of Osoba i czyn, a claim that no serious student of Wojtyła’s work accepts. The author himself, whose relative indifference to the fate of his published work is as striking as his unfailing charity, insists, whenever the subject is raised, that Dr. Tymieniecka “must be given credit for initiating the translation.”84

  The very English title, The Acting Person, suggests something of the problem with Dr. Tymieniecka’s work. Osoba i czyn is translated, literally, Person and Act : a title that retains the tension between subjective consciousness and objective reality in which Wojtyła is trying to work. “The Acting Person” places most of the stress on the subjective, or phenomenological, side of Wojtyła’s analysis—which is the criticism most frequently leveled against Dr. Tymieniecka’s reworking of the text. Every other language edition of Osoba y czyn retains the tension in the Polish original: thus the German Person und Tat, the Italian Persona e atto, the Spanish Persona y acción, and the French Personne et acte.

  Among the things they discussed was the continuation of the series of seminars with physicists and others in the hard sciences that Janik had organized for Karol Wojtyła for twenty-five years. These seminars continued at Castel Gandolfo in the summers of 1980, 1982, 1984, 1986, 1988, 1990, 1993, 1995, and 1997.12

  This does not, of course, resolve the question of what constitutes a sacramental, and thus indissoluble, marriage. But it does suggest the gravity of what is at stake in this issue.43

  Several authors have suggested that John Paul II met with the Soviet ambassador to Italy on March 28, 1981, in an attempt to defuse the crisis; one traces the beginning of a secret negotiation with Leonid Brezhnev to this alleged meeting. No such meeting took place.42

  The reception of his appointment by some of de Lubac’s French Jesuit confreres illustrated the tensions in the Society of Jesus and the personal unpleasantness to which they could lead. When de Lubac’s nomination as cardinal was announced, many of his Parisian Jesuit colleagues declared that this was not their affair and declined to help. De Lubac had to ask his young friends of the French Communio to help him prepare for his investiture, and they bought his new robes for the consistory. On his return, Cardinal de Lubac was given a reception by his Jesuit brothers, at which only soft drinks were served.24

  Another controversy broke out in early 1992 when the Congregation for the Causes of Saints was completing work on the beatification of Monsignor Escrivá. Critics charged that the positio for the cause was poorly prepared, taking virtually no account of Monsignor Escrivá’s critics, and that the process had been short-circuited by pressure from Opus Dei. John Paul II evidently disagreed that the process had been deficient. He beatified Escrivá on May 17, 1992, in St. Peter’s Square, at a ceremony attended by more than a quarter of a million persons.36

  The photo of this airport encounter went all over the world and was widely interpreted as a sharp papal rebuke of Cardenal. Under Sandinista censorship no Nicaraguan paper ran the picture until two weeks after the papal visit. Then a local paper asked Ernesto Cardenal what the Pope had said to him. The minister of culture, alluding to the New Testament scene in which the Lycaonians wanted to offer sacrifice to Paul and Silas after Paul had miraculously cured a cripple, told the paper that John Paul had said, “‘Don’t kneel to me. I am a man like you’” [Acts 14.15]. Those who were there knew better.46

  Mikhail Gorbachev responded in a long letter, written in Russian, fourteen months later. After referring to his June 1988 conversation in Moscow with Cardinal Casaroli, the Soviet leader wrote, “The hour of new integrity of the world has arrived. For us, this signifies a new approach toward religion and Church, toward the ecumenical movement, toward the role played by the great religions of the world…. ”

  Gorbachev then praised the “personal attitude and activities” of the Pope and the “positive contribution to international life given by the Vatican City State,” which he thought especially important “in the sphere of the moral formation of conscience in order to heal the international situation.”

  Referring to Europe, Gorbachev noted the “creative role of the Vatican in the Helsinki process” and added a personal observation: “I think that, for the first time since the great world tragedy which hit humanity a half-century ago—and of which your homeland, Poland, was the first victim—the world seems to have renewed hope. For some years now, the East/West relations which determined world politics are not worsening but becoming better.”

  The Soviet leader then wrote that the “cornerstone of our foreign policy [is] the interest of all of humanity…for this reason we are learning and we invite everyone to firmly reject the stereotypes of the Cold War and above all the ‘figure of the enemy’ that continues to characterize some strategic and political concepts. We are opening ourselves to the world and we are convinced that reciprocal openings will permit the creation of a new climate of effective international cooperation, mutually advantageous in the political, economic, and humanitarian spheres, which is necessary for renewal and progress. And this, if you wish, is the symbol of faith. It is a faith in the reason and morality of man, in his limitless spiritual strength, in his capacity to safeguard and to better in a substantial way the life of the world. We call this the new way of political thinking whose essential characteristics I illustrated last December at the United Nations and more recently in the Congress of Deputies of the USSR.”

  Gorbachev then looked toward his internal situation: “We in the Soviet Union find ourselves today at the vigil of decisions of primary importance…to rebuild the common home of the people of the Soviet Union based on economic efficiency, fraternity, and the variety of our numerous peoples which represents the unique historical richness of our country.” In the USSR, he continued, “atheists, Christians, Muslims, Jews, Buddhists, and peoples of other religious beliefs live. And we are learning a difficult but necessary task of the harmonious cooperation and of consolidation on the principles of the renewal of our society. The new law on the freedom of conscience which is presently in the phase of preparation will serve to that end.”

  Finally, Gorbachev hinted at the possibility of diplomatic relations: “I decided to share these reflections with the hope that the contacts already established between us, between the Soviet authorities and those of the highest ranks of the Roman Catholic Church, will continue and obtain even more the form of political dialogue, and that the problems that exist between us will find, little by little, reciprocally acceptable solutions. It could even be that as a result of our common reflections a place may be found for the possibility to arrive at a new level in the relations between the Soviet Union and the Vatican.”

  Dated August 6, 1989, the letter was signed “M. Gorbachev.” 128

  The history of “Uniatism” is extraordinarily complex and the emotions involved were intensified by various nationalisms. The historic attitude of Orthodoxy toward the “Uniates” was that they were impermissible and offensive Roman missionary salients into historically Orthodox lands. That attitude endured even after Vatican II and the ecumenical initiatives of Pope Paul VI and Ecumenical Patriarch Athenagoras had made clear that Roman Catholicism recognized the Orthodox as “sister Churches” with valid sacraments and a valid ministry. The fact of a vibrant “Uniate” Church in Ukraine (and in Romania) was also a living, and unwelcome, rebuke to those local Orthodox Churches that had played less than heroic roles under communism and had acquiesced in communist governments’ attempts to crush the Greek Catholics. But the Orthodox insisted that the “problem of Uniatism” had to be addressed and resolved before the Roman Catholic-Orthodox
theological dialogue could go any farther. 121

  Throughout the summer, John Paul continued to wrestle with the meaning of his new physical difficulties. During his summer holiday in the mountains of Val D’Aosta, his friend and student, Father Tadeusz Stycze ń , sensed this. One day during the vacation, Stycze ń said that he didn’t agree with the canon law that required bishops to submit their resignations at age seventy-five. To be a bishop was to be a father, and fatherhood could only be revoked by death. The comment triggered something in John Paul II, who remarked that God could revoke that mission by death or incapacity. Over the week-long holiday, Stycze ń thought that his mentor was reliving the meditation on Christ’s agony in the garden of Gethsemane which, as Cardinal Karol Wojtyła, he had preached to Pope Paul VI and the Curia in 1976. In that meditation, he had suggested that Christ’s most intense suffering during the Passion was in the realm of the spirit—in the struggle, intensified by physical suffering, to hand everything over to the will of the Father. By the end of the vacation, Stycze ń remembered, John Paul had passed through this particular dark night, come to grips with his new situation, and was renewed in his resolve to carry on his mission. 79

  By 1998, Crossing the Threshold of Hope had been published in forty languages, and several milllion copies had been sold. John Paul used the first royalty payment from the book to rebuild shattered churches in the former Yugoslavia. 133

 

‹ Prev