Translated by Walter Ziecmba
Copyright © 2004 Libreria Editrice Vaticana, Città del Vaticano
Copyright © 2004 Arnoldo Mondadori Editore S.p.A., Milano.
All rights reserved.
Cover copyright © 2004 Tommaso Bonaventura/Contrasto
This Warner Books edition is published by arrangement with
Arnoldo Mondadori Editore S.p.A., 20090 Segrate, Milan, Italy.
This book was previously published in the Polish language as Wstańcie, chodźmy!
The Warner Books name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.
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First eBook Edition: September 2004
ISBN: 978-0-446-51095-0
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CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
VOCATION
The Source of My Vocation
The Call
Successor of the Apostles
Wawel
The Day of the Ordination: At the Heart of the Church
The Ordaining Bishops
Gestures of the Ordination Liturgy
Sacred Chrism
The Ring and the “Rationale”
“Guard What Has Been Entrusted to You” (1 Tim. 6:20)
The Miter and Crosier
Pilgrimage to the Shrine of Our Lady
THE MINISTRY OF A BISHOP
The Duties of a Bishop
The Shepherd
“I Know My Sheep” (John 10:14)
The Administration of Sacraments
Pastoral Visits
The Battle for a Church
INTELLECTUAL AND PASTORAL RESPONSIBILITIES
The Faculty of Theology in the Context of Other University Faculties
The Bishop and the World of Culture
Books and Study
Children and Young People
Catechesis
Caritas
THE FATHERHOOD OF A BISHOP
Cooperation with the Laity
Cooperation with Religious Orders
The Presbyterate
The Bishop’s Residence
Fatherhood Modeled on the Example of Saint Joseph
Being with One’s People
The Chapel at 3 Franciszkańska Street
EPISCOPAL COLLEGIALITY
The Bishop in His Diocese
The Pallium
The Bishop in His Local Church
Collegiality
The Council Fathers
The College of Cardinals
Synods
The Retreat for the Curia During the Pontificate of Paul VI
The Implementation of the Council
The Polish Bishops
GOD AND COURAGE
Courageous in Faith
The Saints of Kraków
The Martyrs
Saint Stanislaus
The Holy Land
Abraham and Christ: “Here I Am; I Come to Do Your Will” (Heb. 10:7)
NOTES
BIBLICAL CITATIONS AND MAGISTERIAL DOCUMENTS
OTHER BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR
Crossing the Threshold of Hope (with Vittorio Messori)
INTRODUCTION
When Gift and Mystery was published—the book that recounted my memories and reflections on the early years of my priesthood—I received many messages, especially from young people, saying how much they liked the book.1 I was given to understand that for many of them, this personal supplement to the Apostolic Exhortation Pastores Dabo Vobis served as a valuable aid in helping them discern their own personal vocations. This made me very happy. May Christ continue to use those reflections so that many young people will hear His invitation: “Come, follow me, and I will make you fishers of men” (Mark 1:17).
On the occasion of the forty-fifth anniversary of my ordination as a bishop and the twenty-fifth anniversary of my election as the successor of Saint Peter, I was asked to write a sequel to those recollections, beginning with the year 1958 when I was named a bishop. I felt it was right to accept this suggestion as I had done for my earlier book. An added motive to collect and arrange these memories and reflections was the work that had taken place on a document about the episcopal ministry—the Apostolic Exhortation Pastores Gregis. In that document I presented a synthesis of the ideas that emerged from the Tenth Ordinary General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops, which took place the day after the Great Jubilee of the Year 2000. As I listened to the presentations in the Synod Hall and later read the propositions that were presented to me, I recalled the years during which I served the Church in Kraków as well as many new situations I have experienced in Rome as the successor of Saint Peter.
I wanted to put these thoughts in writing, so as to share with others these signs of the love of Christ, who throughout the ages has been calling new successors of the Apostles so as to pour forth His grace, through earthenware vessels, into the hearts of others. The words of Saint Paul to the young bishop Timothy were constantly echoing in my mind: “He has redeemed us and called us with a holy calling, not in virtue of our works, but in virtue of his own purpose and the grace which was granted to us in Christ Jesus before this world existed” (2 Tim. 1:9).
I offer this book as a sign of love to my brother bishops and to all the People of God. May it help all who wish to learn about the greatness of the episcopal ministry, the difficulty associated with it, but also about the joy that daily accompanies its fulfillment. I invite all to offer with me a Te Deum of praise and thanksgiving. With our gaze fixed on Christ, strengthened by hope that does not disappoint, let us journey together along the paths of the new millennium: “Rise, let us be on our way!” (cf. Mark 14:42).
VOCATION
“You did not choose me, but I chose you” (John 15:16)
The Source of My Vocation
I set off in search of the source of my vocation. It is beating there . . . in the Upper Room in Jerusalem. I thank God that during the Great Jubilee of the Year 2000 I was able to pray—precisely there—in the Upper Room (Mark 14:15), where the Last Supper took place. I transport myself in thought to that memorable Thursday, when Christ, having loved his own to the end (cf. John 13:1), instituted the Apostles as priests of the New Covenant. I see Him bending down before each of us, successors of the Apostles, to wash our feet. I hear Him, as if He were speaking to me—to us—these words: “Do you realize what I have done for you? You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Master,’ and rightly so, for indeed I am. If I, therefore, the master and teacher, have washed your feet, you ought also to wash one another’s feet. I have given you an example to follow, so that as I have done for you, you also should do” (John 13:12–16).
Together with Peter, Andrew, James, and John . . . let us continue to listen: “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you. Remain in my love! If you keep my commandments, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy might be in you and your joy might be complete. This is my commandment: love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you” (John 15:9–14).
Is not the mysterium caritatis of our vocation contained in these sayings? These words of Christ, spoken at the hour for which he had come (cf. John 12:27), are at the root of every vocation in the Church. From them flows the life-giving sap that nourishes every vocation: those of the Apostles and their successors, but also every other vocation, because the Son wishes to be a friend to ever
yone: because He gave His life for all. Here we find what is most important, most valuable, and most sacred: the love of the Father and the love of Christ for us, His and our joy, and also our friendship and fidelity, which express themselves in the fulfillment of the commandments. These words also contain the goal and the meaning of our vocation: to “go and bear fruit that will last” (John 15:16).
The bond of love unites all things; substantially it unites the Divine Persons, but on a different level it also unites human beings and their different vocations. We have entrusted our life to Christ, who loved us first and, as the Good Shepherd, offered His life for us. The Apostles heard Christ’s words and applied them to themselves as their personal vocation. So too we, their successors, shepherds of Christ’s Church, cannot but feel impelled to be the first to respond to this love, faithfully fulfilling the commandments and offering our life every day for the friends of our Lord.
“The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep” (John 10:11). In the homily I preached in Saint Peter’s Square on October 16, 2003, on the occasion of the twenty-fifth anniversary of my pontificate, I said: “While Jesus was saying these words, the Apostles did not realize that he was referring to himself. Not even his beloved Apostle John knew it. He understood on Calvary, at the foot of the Cross, when he saw Jesus silently giving up his life for ‘his sheep.’ When the time came for John and the other Apostles to assume this same mission they then remembered his words. They realized that they would be able to fulfill their mission only because he had assured them that he himself would be working among them.”2
“You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit that will last” (John 15:16). Not you, but I!—says Christ. This is the foundation of the efficacy of a bishop’s pastoral mission.
The Call
The year is 1958. I’m on a train traveling toward Olsztyn with my group of canoeists. We are beginning the vacation schedule that we have been following since 1953: part of the vacation we are to spend in the mountains, most often in the Bieszczady mountains, and part on the lakes in the Masuria region. Our destination is the Łyna River. That’s why—it is July—we are on the train bound for Olsztyn. I say to the so-called admiral— as far as I can remember at that time it was Zdzisław
Heydel: “Zdzisław, I’m going to have to leave the canoe because I have been summoned by the Primate [since the death of Cardinal August Hlond in 1948, Cardinal Stefan Wyszyński was the Primate] and I must go to see him.”
The admiral said: “That’s fine, I’ll see to it.”
And so, when the time came, we left the group to go to the nearest railroad station, at Olsztynek.
Knowing that I would have to see the Primate during our time on the Łyna River, I had deliberately left my good cassock with friends in Warsaw. It wouldn’t be right to visit the Primate wearing the old cassock I brought along on our canoe trips (on such trips I always brought a cassock and a complete set of vestments so that I could celebrate Mass).
So I set off, first in the canoe over the waves of the river, and then in a truck laden with sacks of flour, until I got to Olsztynek. The train for Warsaw left late at night. I had brought my sleeping bag with me, thinking that I might be able to catch a few winks in the station and ask someone to wake me when it was time to board the train. There was no need for that in any event, because I didn’t sleep.
In Warsaw I arrived on Miodowa Street at the specified hour. There I discovered that three other priests had also been summoned: Father Wilhelm Pluta from Silesia, Father Michał Blecharczyk, pastor of Bochnia in the diocese of Tarnów, and Father Józef Drzazga from Lublin. At first I paid no attention to this coincidence. Only later did I realize that they had been summoned for the same reason as I.
As I entered the office of the Primate, he told me that the Holy Father had named me an auxiliary bishop to the archbishop of Kraków. In February of that same year (1958) Bishop Stanisław Rospond had died. He had been auxiliary bishop of Kraków for many years during the reign of the prince archbishop of Kraków, Cardinal Adam Sapieha.
Upon hearing the words of the Primate informing me of the decision of the Holy See, I said, “Your Eminence, I am too young; I’m only thirty-eight.”
But the Primate said, “That is a weakness which can soon be remedied. Please do not oppose the will of the Holy Father.”
So I said, “I accept.”
“Then let’s have lunch,” the Primate concluded. He invited all four of us to lunch. There I found out that Father Wilhelm Pluta had been named bishop of Gorzów Wielkopolski. At that time it was the largest Apostolic Administration in Poland. It encompassed Szczecin and Kołobrzeg, one of the oldest dioceses in Poland, which had been created in the year 1000 (at the same time, Gniezno became the metropolitan see of the province, which included not only Kołobrzeg, but
also Kraków and Wrocław). Father Józef Drzazga was named auxiliary bishop of Lublin (later he was transferred to Olsztyn), and Father Michał Blecharczyk was named auxiliary bishop in Tarnów.
At the conclusion of this audience, of such great importance for my life, I realized that I could not return immediately to my canoeing friends: first I had to go to
Kraków to inform Archbishop Eugeniusz Baziak, my Ordinary. While waiting for the night train to Kraków, I spent many hours in prayer at the chapel of the Ursuline Sisters in Warsaw on Wiślana Street.
Archbishop Baziak, the Latin rite metropolitan of Lviv, suffered the fate of all displaced persons: He was forced to leave Lviv. He settled in Lubaczów, that little corner of the archdiocese of Lviv that remained on the Polish side of the boundaries established at Yalta. Prince Adam Sapieha, archbishop of Kraków, asked a year before he died that Archbishop Baziak, having been forced to leave his own diocese, might become his coadjutor. This is how my own episcopate is chronologically linked with the person of this sorely tested Prelate.
The next day I went to see Archbishop Eugeniusz Baziak at 3 Franciszkańska Street and handed him a letter from the Cardinal Primate. I remember it as if it were today. The Archbishop took me by the arm and led me into the waiting room where there were priests sitting, and he said: “Habemus papam”—“We have a Pope.” In the light of subsequent events, one might say that these words were prophetic.
When I said to the Archbishop that I would like to return to Masuria to join my friends who were canoeing on the Łyna River, he answered: “I don’t think that would be appropriate.”
Somewhat troubled by this reply, I went to the Church of the Franciscans and prayed the Way of the Cross. I often went there for this purpose because the stations are original, modern, painted by Józef Mehoffer. Then I went back to Archbishop Baziak renewing my request. I said, “I appreciate your concern, Excellency, but I would still ask you to allow me to return to Masuria.”
This time he answered: “Yes, yes, by all means. But I ask you, please,” he added with a smile, “come back in time for the consecration.”
So that very evening I again boarded the train for Olsztyn. I had with me Hemingway’s book The Old Man and the Sea. I read it all night. Once I dozed off. I felt somewhat strange . . .
When I arrived at Olsztyn, my group was already there. They had canoed down the Łyna River. The admiral came for me to the station and said, “So, did Uncle become a bishop?”
To this I said yes. He said: “That is exactly what I imagined in my heart, and what I wished for you.”
As a matter of fact, shortly beforehand, on the occasion of my tenth anniversary of ordination, he had wished me this. When I was named a bishop, I was hardly twelve years a priest.
I had slept little. When I reached my destination, I was tired. First, however, before going to rest, I went to church to celebrate Mass. The church was under the care of the university chaplain, Father Ignacy Tokarczuk, who was later named a bishop. After a short rest, I awoke and realized that the news had already spread, because Father Tokarczuk said to me: “Oh, the new bishop. Congratulations.”
I smiled and went to join my canoeing friends. When I took the paddle, I again felt somewhat strange. The coincidence of dates struck me: The date of my nomination was July fourth, the anniversary date of the blessing of Wawel Cathedral. It is an anniversary that I have always cherished in my heart. I thought this coincidence must have some special meaning. I also thought maybe this was the last time I could go canoeing. Later though, I should mention, it turned out that there were many opportunities for me to go swimming and canoeing on the rivers and lakes of Masuria. As a matter of fact, I continued until the year 1978.
Successor of the Apostles
After the summer vacation I returned to Kraków to begin preparations for the consecration, which was set for September twenty-eighth, the feast of Saint Wenceslaus, patron of Wawel Cathedral. This dedication is evidence of the historical ties between Poland and Bohemia. Saint Wenceslaus was a Bohemian count who lost his life as a martyr at the hands of his own brother. The Czechs also venerate him as their patron.
An essential part of the preparation for my episcopal ordination was the retreat. I made it at Tyniec, an historic abbey I often visited. This time the stay was especially important for me. I was to become a bishop. I was already nominated. I still had some time before the consecration—more than two months. I had to make use of the time in the best way possible.
The retreat lasted six days—six days of meditation. Dear Lord, what an abundance of fruit! “Successor of the Apostles”—at that time I heard these very words from the lips of a physicist I knew. Obviously, believers attach great importance to the apostolic succession. I, a successor, thought with great humility of the Apostles of Christ and of this long, unbroken chain of bishops who, by the laying on of hands, passed on to their successors a share in the Apostolic Office. Now they were to bestow it upon me. I felt personally linked to each of them. Many of those who preceded the current generation of bishops in this chain of succession we know by name. In some cases their pastoral activities are also known and acclaimed. But even in the case of the bishops of antiquity, unknown today, their episcopal vocation and work continues—“that your fruit will last” (John 16:16). This happens partly through us, their successors. Precisely through their hands and by virtue of the efficacy of the sacrament, we are joined to Christ, who chose both them and us “before the foundation of the world” (Eph. 1:4). Wonderful gift and mystery!
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