Pope John Paul II, 1920-2005: A Mystic's Journal April 2, 05

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Pope John Paul II, 1920-2005: A Mystic’s Journal Entry April 2, 2005

Saturday April 2

1 p.m.

The news of the Pope, Our Holiness Jean Paul II., continues to worsen. It began to rain here during the night, after many days of sunshine & warm weather. As I watched CNN throughout the night, rain played it own sad song on the two skylights in the television room upstairs. Today I awoke to a very grey, overcast day & continued rain - as though the worldwide grief of John Paul’s flock & the commiseration & admiration of many non-Catholics was reflected in the clouds & haze & rain. He is a great & holy man, & I think much of the world, no matter what their religion, feel this. Certainly, all those who watch the silent crowds standing vigil in St. Peter’s Square at the Vatican, & the candlelit prayer ceremonies in churches around the world, could not help feeling touched by the deep grief of their fellow humans. The world is united in its grief, and therefore - for at least these hours - one. One in God, and united in its humanity.

I felt this as I watched the news of President Kennedy’s assassination so many years ago, the recent invasion of Iraq, the tragedy of September 11 & other disasters such as the recent tsunami. These global outpourings of grief or horror - & the compassion & love that they foster around the world, beyond personal interest or politics or patriotism - are memorable, & for many reasons. These sorts of events strip us of our own small, personal histories & bring us to something Higher. Our deeply felt & shared feelings for those we do not even know & will never personally meet is the higher octave of the human, personal emotions. These deeply felt world events can bring us to the Higher Love and Compassion. It would be better if we could do this without world tragedies to guide us there ...

The gardens are happy for the gentle & abiding rain, fresh & new, their colors now vibrant & alive. The grey of winter has ended for the gardens, in stark contrast to our now cheerless sky.

Saturday, April 2
9:30 p.m.

Received the breaking news of the Pope’s passing on CNN not long after the event, and watched until just before 4:30 Mass. A time to face my own personal feelings of deep sadness, although soon my heart began to burn with Love. The camera slowly gave us images of priests in white & black robes, nuns & novices in may different colored robes & head coverings - women & men with children, families, Africans, Indians, Europeans, many races and colors, sizes and shapes, features and ages. The silent crowd in St. Peter’s Square: some people weeping, either covering their faces with their hands or openly covered with tears, others bent silently in private prayer; some holding lit candles, holding rosaries, speaking quietly among themselves or praying & singing hymns in unison. One fellow on a cell phone, smiling & waving at the camera, another crying & chewing gum. From a distance, the vast crowd sparkling & moving under the slow, sweeping lights of the Vatican. Humanity. The lights in the Holy Father’s chambers were extinguished, the bells tolled, the Pope’s ring was broken as demanded by tradition.

In my mind, this Pope is a great saint. This holy man sat on the throne of Peter & carefully watched over the Church & his flock for twenty six years. Photographs onscreen of Jean Paul II. with the Dalai Lama, with three different American Presidents, with Arafat, with a rabbi & leaders of other Christian denominations. The U.S. flag flying at half staff over the White House. A Pope who spoke eight languages & read philosophy voraciously. The first Pope to visit our country, to step into a mosque, a synagogue, the first to visit Israel - the first Pope who apologized to the Jews for not doing more to prevent the Holocaust, the first Pope to apologize for the Crusades. A Pope who actively worked for peace & mutual respect between nations, races and religions. He also wished to heal the schism between the Roman Catholics and the Orthodox Christians - the Desert Fathers were from the East, but before the schism. As I type in those words, I smell light incense & a hint of flowers.

I remember reading that when John Paul, as a young man, visited Saint Padre Pio, the saintly Padre told him that he would one day be Pope.

Left for Mass at four p.m., wearing long boots & carrying an umbrella. The rain on the Church roof sounded like a train in the wind. As one might expect, the Church was unusually full & unusually quiet before Mass. As M. & I found seats & began to pray, the overwhelming fragrance of roses mixed with myrrh surrounded us. As usual, at first I thought someone nearby was wearing a strong perfume. The unmistakable scent lasted some minutes, gently lingered & then disappeared.

I watched Sister Edna, dressed in a simple purple suit & white blouse, so very carefully light the candles on the altar. I had worn a purple top, with black slacks. A purple top because today, with the news of our Pope’s death, even though the second Sunday of Easter, it suddenly felt like an extension of Lent. My prayers were for the Church. Earlier in the day I had mentioned to M. that we should begin praying for the Church - M.’s response was a simple “I’ve already started.”.

John Paul II. had recently written that the Church must achieve transparency. This so reminded me of the vision of the Cathedral of Light Christ had shown me, that the image immediately appeared in my Heart. Today, during Mass, that image filled my entire being until I could barely support its Light. May the mystical Church be manifest on earth. May that supernatural and Divine Light fill and transform the Church on earth, & our earthly world now & always.

During Mass, our priest asked that we pray for the Church. Then he said “We are the Church”. At those words the Light within me grew & I again inwardly saw the Church, the Cathedral of Light: crystalline, transparent & made of brilliant, unearthly Light. It again filled my entire being, not just my Heart.

After Mass was the Exposition of the Holy Sacrament, followed by an hour long First Saturday Vigil. Our Holy Father therefore was taken home to Our Lord, on a First Saturday dedicated to Our Lady, and also on the Eve of Divine Mercy Sunday. This is noteworthy because Pope John Paul II. canonized St. Faustina of Poland, & it was St. Fautina who was given the Chaplet of Mercy Prayer by Christ Himself. So, one could say that, in this way, the Holy Father’s new journey was accompanied by Our Lady & Saint Faustina, two Saints he had personally championed while on earth. I am sure that he was surrounded by countless Divine Beings, both during his last illness & on his blessed voyage back to God.

After the vigil, we took Sister Edna out to dinner. As we parted, the lamplight lit up her beige colored umbrella from behind, creating a gold glow that surrounded her grey hair and wonderful, kind face.

10:30 p.m.

Watched more of the CNN coverage. Now the middle of the night in Rome. Roughly 100 people are still standing in St. Peter’s Square, thin lonely silhouettes in the lamplight, the textures of the flat stone pavement reflecting the pale light. The world still focused on the life & death of this one saintly man.