A Final Farewell to Pope John Paul the Great

By Bishop Paul S. Loverde
Special to the Herald
(From the issue of 4/14/05)

The following homily was given by Arlington Bishop Paul S. Loverde during the Memorial Mass for Pope John Paul II at the Cathedral of St. Thomas More in Arlington on Friday, April 8.

In a rather unrealistic way, we had hoped we would never come to this day when we would bury Pope John Paul II. Yes, it was unrealistic because death comes to everyone. Indeed, as believers, we affirm that our goal is not to live here forever, but to come to eternal life. And surely we began to see the signs in our Holy Father of those final chapters in his life in the late 90s and most clearly of all since February of this year. But, somehow, we continued to hope; after all he had overcome so many obstacles — not only the attempt on his life, but a number of operations; and even when infirmity became ever more and more apparent, he bravely, courageously, resolutely went on. And so, as I say, in some unrealistic way, we thought we would never come to this day.

Even in death, the world tried to keep him. Millions went to Rome that they might have one last glimpse of him and millions more of us sought that glimpse by way of the television. A sign of this desire on our part to keep him was so clear this morning. When the funeral procession left the square and made its way toward the Basilica for the burial, and when his coffin was lifted up a bit and turned towards the people, throngs began to cheer, expressing the desire: if only he could stay. In a way we are like Mary at the tomb on that first Easter. At least we want to be near him even in death. But, I think, he would tell us, echoing Jesus, "Do not cling to me — I am going to the Father — there you will see me — for I go ahead."

So, in truth, in reality, we have reached this day which we dreaded on the human level. Indeed, a profound loss and an immense void fill our hearts and that is natural, for he had such a place in our hearts, in our lives, in our church and in our world. And yet equally we feel profound gratitude for the gift that he has been in God’s Divine Providence. We will continue to experience immense affection and love for this faithful "servant of the servants of God."

Ever since his death so many people have been attempting to describe the legacy he left us and, in very truth, that legacy can be described in so many ways, too numerous to include in any one homily. Permit me, then, to share these reflections with you.

In the life and death of Pope John Paul II, we have before us clearly the unmistakably profound and unprecedented impact of one human being. Therefore, the Book of Daniel rightly reminds us, as we heard moments ago, "The wise shall shine brightly like the splendor of the firmament, and those who lead the many to justice shall be like stars forever." Pope John Paul II led us to justice, to salvation in Christ; that is why he shall shine like a star forever. The Book of Revelations would likewise remind us "Let them, the dead, find rest from their labors, for their works accompany them;" and his works accompany him.

Throughout life then and even in death, John Paul II exercised an extraordinary influence on millions and millions of people. He did this surely in life, especially in the nearly 27 years of his papacy: the trips around the globe, 102 of them outside Italy; his weekly general audiences on Wednesday; his presence and availability by means of the television; his voluminous writings; and above all, the witness of his life: deep prayer, indeed mystical; love for the human person; fearless commitment to the truth; and the acceptance of suffering, human limitations and weakness.

Now why did this faithful man, this beloved pope, whom, I believe, history shall call Pope John Paul the Great, why did he exercise such immense influence? He placed his life at the service of God’s plan. When anyone does that, God can work extraordinarily through that person. Did you know our Holy Father often said that when each one of us is created, God gives to that person his or her own individual unique life project? He believed that, and as we step back and reflect on his life, what becomes so clear is the plan God had for this man: from his earliest years all the way through to the last scenes that we have of him silently blessing us on Easter Sunday and again on Easter Wednesday.

Before him always was the image of Jesus, Who, the Scriptures tell us, came into the world declaring "I come to do your will, O God." Before him always, as well, was the image of the Mother of God, who said in response to the angel’s invitation on behalf of Almighty God "I am the handmaid of the Lord, let it be done to me according to thy word." And the Holy Father’s motto that we saw over and over again on the papal crest, "Totus Tuus," summarizes how he placed his life at the service of God’s plan — I am yours completely — totally! He believed deeply those words of St. Paul "For those who love God, all things work together for good." Yes, all things: joy and sorrow, accomplishment, success and even limitations, illness, and death!

How did he allow God to work through him? How did he concretely place his life at the service of God’s plan? Permit me to propose at least three foundational pillars, though others could be added. First, there was his deep union with Christ in the Eucharist. He understood with every fiber of his being the truth which we heard proclaimed in our midst this morning in the gospel account from St. John. When Jesus tells us, "I am the living bread, the bread that I shall give you is my flesh for the life of the world. The one who feeds on me will have life because of me." Just to be with our Holy Father in prayer was to attain an experience, a concrete affirmation, of his deep union with the Eucharistic Christ. Those of us who were privileged to be with him in his private chapel are witnesses to that union but also, in another way, so were all of us who watched him celebrate the Eucharistic Sacrifice or had the opportunity to watch him on television as he made his trips, several to our country, where he would always stop by the Chapel of the Blessed Sacrament whether in the Cathedral, the Church, the Seminary or the Episcopal residence.

If the first pillar is his deep union with the Eucharistic Christ, the second pillar is his true devotion to Mary, the Mother of God. I have already referenced his motto, "Totus Tuus." He saw in Mary the model for him of obedient faith, of surrendering trust, of complete love.

The third pillar is his own love for the human person, for he realized and believed that each human person, whoever he or she might be, is created in the image and likeness of God and, therefore, has infinite worth. No one has spoken more eloquently, more consistently, more insistently than Pope John Paul II on the dignity and worth of the human person from the first moment of life at conception all the way through to the last moment of life at natural death. His words, his writings, his actions, and, finally, his own witness of life proclaimed this so clearly.

In the end, placing our life at the service of God’s plan includes, and I would say demands, total oneness with Christ and that, therefore, includes and demands an acceptance of the cross in whatever form it comes. We do not choose the form. Our Holy Father lived that; and, as I have said, I know, so frequently this week, he witnessed to that truth so publicly in his own life. He did not shy away from the cross of infirmity and weakness, he did not hide out so he could not be seen, he was a model to us, not only of how to live, but of how to accept suffering, the cross, and of how to die.

Last night at the end of Mass, I was privileged to receive a poem, a copy of a poem, that a woman in Ohio by the name of Lisa Lindsey wrote. She wrote it in the last days of our Holy Father’s life before he had been called home to God. While I would like to share the entire poem, perhaps it is a bit long, so permit me then to share the last stanza for it speaks about the end of life in union with Christ. She wrote: "I saw a saint at sunset, even though the hour was noon. He was in the twilight of his papacy, a long and glorious twilight … And somewhere between the twilight and the darkness I learned that Christ does not come down from His Cross until His work is done."

On April 2, at 9:37 in the evening, the work that God gave to Pope John Paul II was done. The Lord said to him that it was time to come home. And surely when he opened his eyes, having crossed over, he heard "Well done, good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of your Lord!"

My sisters and brothers, for us our work is not done. Our work continues — that work for which each of us was uniquely created. Whatever that life project may be, we honor Pope John Paul II best, it would seem to me, by doing as he did, by living as he lived, by placing our lives at the service of God’s plan. And we are to do that, rooted in the Eucharist, seeking Mary’s help, and trying to love each person as God would have us love them.

Indeed, we commend Pope John Paul II to the Lord in our prayers, for even the holiest among us needs God’s mercy; even the saints became saints only through the mercy of God.

We do not say "goodbye" to John Paul II as much as we say "Pray for us." Yes dear Holy Father, accompany us by your prayers as we continue to journey until we breathe, like you, our last "Amen" and, through God’s mercy, arrive at home where you live with Mary, Joseph, and all the saints and blesseds, so many of whom you raised to the altar. There together, may we see the Triune God, face to face, in an endless life of joy and peace. Yes, Pope John Paul the Great, pray for us as we journey homewards. Amen!

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