I was blessed with the singular opportunity to be embraced twice by St. John Paul II (whose 10 death anniversary was marked last April 2).
The first was during his visit to the University of Santo Tomas in 1995. He presided over the Eucharistic Celebration held at the UST Seminary Chapel, attended mainly by the delegates of the International Youth Forum (the nucleus of the World Youth Day).
I happened to be the Rector of the University, so I was assigned to welcome him officially to the university, together with the late Fr. Frederik Fermin, OP, who was the Rector of the UST Seminary.
The World Youth Day organizers were kind enough to allow me to say briefly a few words of welcome to Pope John Paul II. Since the Pope had a very tight schedule, they suggested that I say: “On behalf of the University of Santo Tomas, I welcome Your Holiness.” I was instructed that after I had said that line, I had to step aside so he could proceed immediately to the chapel.
But when he alighted from the Pope’s mobile and looked at me, I couldn’t say a word. I was overwhelmed by his presence. I felt so unworthy standing before him that I started to shed tears. Smiling, he embraced me and touched my cheeks. He whispered: “You look so young to be the Rector of this very old university.” My cheeks suddenly felt so sacred, having been touched by the Pope. For three days I did not wash my face.
They say that anything touched to the body of a saint becomes a third-class relic. Today, I like to think, not with a little humor, that my cheeks have been elevated to that status when Pope John Paul II was declared a saint.
After the Mass in the seminary chapel, he boarded the “Popemobile” again to proceed to the UST parade grounds where a multitude of students and teachers gathered since five in the morning. The original plan was for him to alight from his Pope’s mobile at the back of the grandstand to prevent the crowd from mobbing him. From there, a forklift was waiting to transport him to the grandstand’s main stage.
No cane
But when he saw the thousands of people waving placards and banners chanting “John Paul Two, we love you,” he asked the driver to bring the Popemobile to the middle of the parade ground. He got off from the vehicle and using a cane for support, he walked slowly toward the grandstand accompanied by Jaime Cardinal Sin. To the delight of everyone, he suddenly stopped, took his cane and swirled it around like a little child. He seemed to tell everyone: “Look Ma, no cane! I can walk without it!”
After an interminable moment of jubilation and shouting, the crowd finally mellowed down. The short program began. Again, the organizers of the World Youth Day tasked me to deliver a brief welcome address on behalf of UST and the thousands of people gathered in the campus. A few students and teachers came up the stage to make an offering and receive a papal blessing. St. John Paul II gave a short talk which was interrupted several times by the crowd’s joyful applause. Before he left, he bid goodbye to the UST and Church officials gathered on stage and gave each of us some tokens of his brief but memorable visit. He gave me six rosaries. He said: “Give these to your loved ones.”
The second occasion was during the Synod of Bishops for Asia held in Rome in 1998. I went to the synod as an invited guest, courtesy of the late Archbishop Gianvincenzo Moreni, the papal nuncio to the Philippines. He asked me to represent the Catholic universities in the Philippines.
During the Synod, seven or eight invited guests were to dine with the Pope in his papal residence. When my turn came, I felt as though I was going up to heaven as I ascended the marble steps leading to his quarters. I never imagined I would have that privilege. The other invited guests (mostly lay people) and I were ushered into his private dining room with very simple fixtures: one table with a few chairs.
I forgot what we ate because it was very meager. After the meal he conversed with us on table. When he learned that I was from UST, he raised his right hand as though he was about to give me a papal blessing. Then he shouted: “Ah! Santo Tomas! Santo Tomas! I remember very well how warmly you received me during the World Youth Day.” I was deeply flattered. Although I don’t think he remembered me, I was happy that he remembered his brief stay at UST. After the meal, he embraced us one by one, and once again gave us Rosaries.
On those two occasions, I was gripped by something I could not define. I was aware he was a human being like me, but there was something in him that made his presence truly overwhelming and redeeming.
I got an inkling of what it was when he died and the mass media showed footages of millions of people grieving. I remember the song that says: “Everybody loves a lover. I’m a lover, so everybody loves me.” St. John Paul II is often described as a philosopher, a theologian, an actor, an eloquent communicator, a brave leader. But one overarching description of him that encompasses all the others is: He was a great lover.
He loved God and others passionately and totally, that is why his whole life is summarized by his papal motto: “Totus Tuus” (I am all yours!). He wasted his life for just one mission: To tell the world of God’s love by being the personification of that love. This explains the outpouring of affection from all people of different creed, beliefs, and ideology after St. John Paul died. Love is repaid by love.
Credibility
Popes are often seen as persons in a position of power. But the characteristic that defines the presence of St. John Paul II was not power but credibility or the ability to elicit belief in another. Credibility is correlative with trustworthiness. It is from this credibility that he derived his authority. He moved people without imposing on them. He got the attention and obedience of people in ways politicians and celebrities and other Church dignitaries can only faintly imagine.
St. John Paul II is said to be the most traveled Pope. He has circled the globe 27 times, as though proving to everyone that the place of a shepherd is with his flock. His travels must be very tiring. But he himself admitted that his travels invigorated and strengthened him. It was his stay in Rome that weakened him. I believe his successors must learn this lesson from St. John Paul II’s frequent travels: If a Pope wants to live longer, he must stay outside of the Vatican often.
One of the city gates leading to Rome has never failed to attract the attention of tourists because of two statues that adorn it. One statue is that of St. Peter pointing his finger towards the Vatican. The other statue is that of St. Paul, his face turned away from the Vatican his outstretched arms seem to embrace the entire world. The more popular interpretation of these gestures is that Peter, in pointing toward the Vatican is saying: “Here is the center of Christianity.” Paul, in pointing outward is saying: “But the true Christians are out there.”
I once read that since Karol Wojtyla became Pope, a new interpretation has been attached to the peculiar gestures of the two statues. Peter, in pointing towards Rome, is saying: “Here is where my successor resides.” And Paul pointing to the whole world says: “And there is where his heart belongs—to the people all over the world.”
St. John Paul II definitely abolished the feudal image of a Pope as an absentee landlord, He wanted to be as visible as possible to everyone. And he was not just visible, he was present. Wherever he went, he did everything so that his presence would linger even after he left. I myself could vouch for that. After being overwhelmed by his presence, I told myself: “I am never the same again.”
Editor’s note: The author is former rector of the University of Santo Tomas and chair of Commission on Higher Education.