Mourning
the Death of Pope John Paul II
Aleta Styers
An era has ended. The longest ponti?cate of the 20th century leaves
us with memories of a man who at times seemed larger than life, but
was so human we felt like we knew him. Memories, and what memories!
So many memories to celebrate. So many memories to mourn. We look
back with awe at his wonderful achievements. We look back with horror
at the opportunities missed, at the cries for help turned away. His
life, like all lives, was a mixture of strengths and weakness, of
achievements and failings. What was different about his life was that
he was called to a role where both the achievements and the failures
were earth-shattering in their import.
Let us start by acknowledging the achievements. Those of us who are
persons of faith can thank whatever power we acknowledge, in whatever
way we address that power, for the blessings the life of John Paul
II brought to men’s lives in the twentieth century.
We cannot rank those achievements, we can only name them. Who could
not rejoice at his role in maintaining the Church in Communist Eastern
Europe? Who could not rejoice at his role in Poland’s Solidarity
movement and aiding in assuring the peacefulness of the revolution
in that country? Who could not rejoice at his apologies for the sins
(nicely euphemized “cultural intolerance” and “historic
injustice”) of the Roman church in relation to the Jewish Community,
to indigenous peoples, to immigrants, to the poor? Who could not rejoice
at his insistence on Palestinian dignity? Who could not rejoice at
his cries at the Irish border for an end to violence in Ireland?
But there is sadness, too. Sadness at John Paul II’s participation
in the war on women. Sadness at the destruction of hope in communities
formerly enlightened by Liberation Theology. Sadness at the refusal
to punish institutional support for child abusers.
In the 1990s he intensi?ed his efforts to restrain, and even turn
back, any progress women might make in society. He apologized for
unspeci?ed past injustices against women, but continued to act in
ways that harmed women and ignored their basic concerns. He acted
publicly and his representatives acted both publicly and behind the
scenes at United Nations Conferences in Cairo and Beijing to restrict
women’s lives as much as possible. His teachings – which
members of the clergy (many of whom still disagree) are forced to
repeat – continue to de?ne a woman’s role as that of mother,
teacher, wife, nurturer, and nothing more. As late as 2002 he publicly
called for larger families.
The rejection of any form of family planning except abstinence has
had the expected results and some unexpected ones. The most obvious
result is the increase in the number of children who cannot be supported
by their natural parents and will not be supported by society. The
increased poverty of children is a global phenomenon. It is particularly,
but not exclusively, obvious in what is euphemistically called “The
Third World” or “The Global South.” Some of these
children stay and starve within families; many beg and starve on the
streets. Some have become child soldiers, killing other children and
adults. Women – or families – who might have been able
to support and care for a smaller household now watch as their children
die from starvation. Some women even starve themselves trying to keep
children alive. Far too often the results can be starving orphans.
We mourn the death of John Paul II!
The rapid expansion of HIV and AIDS in poor countries is also one
of the results of the war on women. Condoms are considered the best
method of reducing the expansion of the HIV virus. Because they can
also contribute to a reduction in the number of pregnancies, John
Paul II and his clergy have actively and successfully opposed their
availability. While other forces (including, inter alia, US policy)
have also contributed to the lack of condoms in places such as Africa,
prohibitions of condom use have led to a more rapid spread of AIDS
than would have otherwise been the case. We mourn the death of John
Paul II!
In much of the world the established political and social orders exploit
the poor. This has certainly been true of the history of Latin America.
Unfortunately, far too often the established church cooperated (and
continues to cooperate) with that established order. In the middle
of the twentieth century light began to shine in Latin America. Dedicated
priests and laity went back to the gospel teachings of care for the
poor and initiated active efforts within a Christian framework to
end economic and social exploitation.
In the early 1980s John Paul attacked the hopes of the Latin American
poor created by these activities. Certainly there are lines to be
drawn between religious and political involvement, but Christianity
has traditionally taught responsibility for the poor and downtrodden.
John Paul refused to meet with representatives of Liberation Theology.
Many asked why the church could stand against Communist exploitation
in Eastern Europe but not against landlord exploitation in South and
Central America. An open discussion might have established a mutually
acceptable path. Instead, dissent was squashed; priests were transferred,
silenced and driven from the clergy. Poverty is worse, and hope for
anything other than violent revolution or drug revenues has fallen.
More poor children sniff glue on city streets. We mourn the death
of John Paul II!
Believers who disagree with John Paul II’s teachings and actions
on women and liberation theology can recognize that theological arguments
might be – and have been – made supporting those arguments.
Particularly unfortunate, indeed unacceptable, were his decisions
to put his opinions on these critical areas of human concern outside
the scope of further discussion. In an institutional sense this prohibits
the voice of God being transmitted in the future by living members
of the communion of the faithful. Admittedly there are others who
agree with the late Pope’s views about women and the exploitation
of the poor, but continuing discussion within the church on these
critical matters should continue.
The greatest reason to mourn the death of John Paul II lies in his
generous treatment of those members of the clergy – at all levels
– involved in the pederasty scandals in North America. The errors,
from parish priest to Cardinal, are indisputable. Thanks only to an
alert press, the evidence is public.
The church is the community of the faithful. Obviously it is necessary
to have buildings in which one may worship and institutional structures
to administer the worship. But the church remains a community. At
the time of the pederasty scandals some priests put the institution
above the community of the faithful. Many practicing believers hoped
that John Paul II would recognize the enormity of the scandal and
the role of the institutional church in America in that scandal.
What happened? The American bishops met to institute measures to try
to prevent future abuses. The Vatican required that those measures
be watered down. Cardinal Law of Boston had to leave in disgrace as
(his letters show) he had repeatedly assigned known pederasts to other
parishes. The church was just as merciful.
Americans waited to see both justice and mercy. They were disappointed.
Was Law punished? No! Was he even censured? No! He could have been
sent to a monastery, preferably cloistered, to pray for victims and
victimizers and meditate on and repent his own actions. Instead he
was assigned to a post in Rome of such great stature that he was one
of only nine priests to of?ciate at the Pope’s funeral masses.
We mourn the death of John Paul II!
The call to communion – second only to baptism as a sacrament
of the church – says “gifts of God for the people of God.”
Unfortunately for John Paul II, the Latin American poor, the abused
children of North America, and women who aspire to be more than baby
machines did not make the cut to be fully included as people of God.
We mourn the death of John Paul II!
Aleta Styers is a student in the PhD program in Political Science.