Not many people get to experience a private Mass with the pope. I did. Not many people get to meet him personally. I did. Not many people get to spend half a day with John Paul II, the Great, strolling through the lush, Italian Alps, soaking in his wisdom in the same way the wildflowers absorb the sun’s glorious light. I — didn’t.
Two out of three is not bad, though!
I was nineteen years old, visiting my older brother who was discerning the priesthood and studying in Rome, the Eternal City. After putting in a long-shot request to attend a private Mass and audience with the pope, to our great surprise, a day later, we found ourselves standing in a private Vatican anteroom. The chapel we were led into was not auspicious, but wood and stone, with all of its architecture pointing to the altar.
The 73-year-old pontiff said Mass for us. He did not just say it, though. He prayed it. Every word from his lips was from the heart, and he paused many times, in long, silent invocations. It was how every Mass should be said.
I remember the gentleness of his voice, as the Holy Father blessed me when, later, in a hall, he took time to receive us one by one and I was introduced to him. The voice that helped topple the Berlin Wall was, up close, that of a shepherd — comforting, guiding. If I stop and listen, I can still hear him calling, “Do not be afraid!”
From his hand, he offered me a rosary, perpetuating the call of his dear love, the Blessed Virgin Mary, to pray unceasingly. This extremely busy world leader was an example to me of putting prayer first. I later learned that he meditated on all the Mysteries of the Rosary daily.
He held my hand, the softness of his skin, a grandfather’s touch. Looking back, I’m deeply humbled that he did this, although I’m not surprised. His entire pontificate, he fought tirelessly for the dignity of every human life, from conception to natural death. Everyone was important, every person worthy of God’s love.
As he began to move on, I said the only thing I could think of, since I was planning to attend World Youth Day in Colorado later that summer. “See you in Denver!” I called. Then, with that trademark twinkle in his eye, he turned and said, “Ah, Denver!”
Not long after, I joined over a million young faithful from around the world, who walked miles and camped in fields to finally burst into cheers when our great pope said, “JP II, he loves you!” Unforgettable. Undoubtedly, he loved Christ. But he also loved every one of us, like a shepherd. These are the greatest commandments, and he lived them to the fullest.
Not long ago, I joined the billions of people who mourned the passing of John Paul II. I said good-bye, with so many others, to a hero, a holy father, a friend. I know I’ll always love to say that I met him that one day. I only hope that I can say how I emulated him in my life, in how I love my wife, my children and all my neighbors, as Christ and his humble servant, JPII, loved me. And, maybe on another special day, I will get to spend time with him, strolling through the evergreen Alps of Heaven, as we run our fingers along the wings of angels, stooped like wildflower pedals, and bask in the glorious light of the Son.
© Copyright 2005 Catholic Exchange
Michael Sortino is a screenwriter who lives in Southern California with his wife and three children.
