Pope Helps Nearsighted World Perceive a Joyous Truth

April 22, 2005

The Columbus Dispatch - FAITH AND VALUES
by Dr. Leo Madden
Professor of Theology, Ohio Dominican University

"What did you go out to the desert to see -- a reed swayed by the wind? Then what did you go out to see? Someone dressed in fine garments?"

These words of Jesus from the Gospel of Luke are directed to the large crowds who thronged to see John the Baptist out in the desert, baptizing and preaching. Jesus rightly asks them about their true motivations: John the Baptist was certainly not a fashion maven -- he wore a covering of camel's hair tied with a simple leather belt. And he was certainly not a preacher of peace and prosperity -- he spoke of sharpened axes pointed at the root of trees and of chaff that will be burned with unquenchable fire. So what did they go out to see?

A similar question comes to mind in regard to the hundreds of thousands -- millions, really, and mostly young people -- who thronged to Rome in recent weeks to cast a glance at the body of the late Pope John Paul II, to participate in the funeral services for him and to await the selection of his successor. The pontiff had been in declining health for at least a decade, and in recent years could barely raise his head or his voice. So what did they go there to see? What drove them to Rome?

Perhaps an answer comes from the history of art, which often portrays John the Baptist as pointing his finger toward Jesus. The finger often becomes a ribbon containing a Gospel text. Thus John the Baptist has meaning -- and attractiveness -- not for his own sake but in order to make transparent the reality of Christ in our world. Similarly, the charisma of Pope John Paul II did not derive from his clever words or his showmanship, but from his ability to make visible to our weak human eyes the glory of God.

In the Gospel of John, John the Baptist points to Jesus and says, "Behold the Lamb of God." This image emphasizes the sacrificial character of Jesus' ministry unto death. Similarly, in the funeral homily for the late pontiff, Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger spoke of John Paul II's devotion to his calling: "He offered his life to God for his flock and for the entire human family, in a daily self-oblation for the service of the church, especially amid the sufferings of his final months. And in this way he became one with Christ, the Good Shepherd who loves his sheep."

In all four Gospels, John the Baptist is the one who "prepares the way of the Lord." But the way of the Lord is never fully completed, because the words and actions of Jesus propel us forward to ever deeper levels of understanding the purposes of God in our lives. Similarly, John Paul II invited the whole world to never cease working for a "civilization of love," the creation of a culture of life, and to a greater awareness of our lives in obedience to the will of God.

As Ratzinger said at the Pro Eligendo Mass on Monday, "It is here that is expressed the dynamic existence of the Christian, the apostle: 'I chose you to go and bear fruit. . . .' We must be inspired by a holy restlessness: restlessness to bring to everyone the gift of faith, of friendship with Christ."

But there is one way in which the late Pope John Paul II and, we pray, the new Pope Benedict XVI will surpass even the example of John the Baptist. Despite his virtues, one can hardly say that John was a joyful man. But for the Christian, as G.K. Chesterton states in Orthodoxy, "Joy is the gigantic secret." And not just any joy, but the "true joy" that comes from a heart that is pure and faithful to the will of God.

What did you go out to see? Not fine vestments; not clever speech; certainly not good looks. We are attracted to the Holy Father because he points us to the love and joy of Christ.

Leo H. Madden is an assistant professor of theology at Ohio Dominican University and director of its master's degree in theology program. maddenl@ohiodominican.edu.

Reprinted with permission, The Columbus Dispatch 2005.