KRAKOW, Poland -- When Pope John Paul II came home to
Poland for the ninth time, his compatriots gave him their cheers, their smiles and above
all their attention.
The 82-year-old pontiff returned the affection and also brought a demanding spiritual
and social message, challenging Poles to hold fast to Gospel values that risk slipping
away in their new society.
For four days, the combination of the crowd's energy and the pope's charisma worked a
special kind of magic. Once again, despite his frailty, he connected with the country that
has been transformed so dramatically during his papacy.
"Poland is still listening to this man because they love him and they trust what
he says," said 20-year-old Janusz Grochola, a Krakow student.
Many thought the pope's visit would be little more than a nostalgic farewell tour of
his Archdiocese of Krakow. He did make the rounds of his old haunts and rekindle some
memories, but the pope had a broader purpose.
He came with a mission: to promote a locally born devotion to Divine Mercy as the
antidote to a global sense of discouragement, in the face of new forms of evil and
injustice.
The implicit point was that something that originated here, in their small corner of
southern Poland, could change the world -- and he stood before them as living proof of
that.
At a Mass for more than 2 million people in a Krakow park Aug. 18, he beatified four
Poles who practiced mercy to the poor, the sick, the imprisoned and the oppressed.
He told the crowd that this "message of merciful love" needs to resound in a
world threatened by dangers like genetic manipulation, euthanasia and attacks on the
traditional family. He said it's a message that must be taken to "rulers and the
oppressed, to those whose humanity and dignity seem lost."
Then he brought it down to the local level, asking Poles to "take a look
around" and see if the country's post-communist development hasn't left some behind
-- the unemployed heads of families, the confused children, or those who have turned to
drugs or crime.
He said modern forms of poverty and inequality require a "new creativity in
charity." Without the practice of mercy, faith is hollow, he said.
The pope's sermon was long and its ideas were not simple. But the crowd in Krakow
listened to every word, punctuating its most important passages with applause.
That seemed a tonic to a pope whose health has deteriorated to the point where
cardinals openly discuss the possibility of his eventual retirement. Though he sometimes
labored through the long liturgies in Krakow, his spirits were lifted by the chance to
communicate in his own language.
"I thought about what he said during the Mass, and I'm going to think about it
some more when I get home. What he's saying is very important. The big question is whether
people here will follow his advice," said Edward Wiecek, a 26-year-old technical
manager from Warsaw.
The pope's relevance here was once measured as a kind of "combustion factor"
between Solidarity reformers and communist authorities. Today his impact is more subtle
but no less important, at a time when Poles are divided over the prospect of entry into
the European Union in 2004.
Some think preparations for this alignment with Western Europe already have
overburdened the poorer sectors of Poland's economy. For others it raises moral questions,
as when the European Parliament recently called for legalized abortion in all its member
states and singled out Poland as a country that should fall into line.
The pope mildly endorsed Polish entry into the European Union, but said the country
cannot lose its identity in the process. He sounded other cautionary notes, too, warning
that forces of false freedom were trying to "take over this land for themselves"
and that "the noisy propaganda of liberalism, of freedom without truth or
responsibility, grows stronger in our country."
What his visit showed most of all was that, though frail and ailing, the pope still
wants to help his homeland and the world steer a moral course. He is convinced that the
key is to "never, ever separate the cause of man from the love of God," as he
said at the Krakow Mass.
Even young people in his audience said they understood what the pope was driving at.
"I reflected on it, and I think it's something that will stay with me and with
many others. In Poland, God is still very important," said Michal Korol, 16, of
Gdansk.
Clearly, Poles see their pope not just as an aging spiritual icon but as a moral leader
who still has something important to say to them.
They also want him to know he's in their hearts. That's why they gathered by the
thousands every evening in front of the archbishop's residence where he stayed.
The pope did not disappoint them, turning up at his balcony window for a few minutes of
light-hearted banter -- a tradition that goes back to his first visit in 1979.
"I am 23 years older now than when we first met here," he told them.
"But you are also 23 years older. There's nothing we can do about that."
To which the crowd responded by singing the well-known verses of a Polish folk song,
"May he live 100 years."