Earthenware jars ...

Four years ago I was lying in bed thinking about the passing of Pope John Paul II and, like so many people around the world, reflecting on the huge impact that his personal witness has made to the world during the course of his 26-year papacy.

I tried to imagine what it might be like to be on one’s death bed, with the entire world holding its breath, waiting for one to die. What a strange and curious way to go. Whilst many may not have agreed with him, it seems to me that the world respected him as a man of tremendous warmth and compassion and a brave witness in a society whose values were constantly challenged by the truths for which he so bravely stood.

What touched me about the pope’s death is that his task and his joy in life had been to carry out the will of God and he was therefore happy to pass on. How wonderful to be able to face the prospect of meeting one’s Maker (and Judge) serenely and joyfully, confident in the knowledge that you have done what was yours to do and to the best of your ability, that you have served God in all that he has asked of you.

With this thought in mind, I couldn’t help (though we shouldn’t really) but hold myself up in comparison with him and his witness. It was a depressing comparison until I consoled myself with the knowledge that he was, of course, unique and his role in this world was unique. In making comparisons we must be very careful not to devalue our own personal journey and witness, for isn’t our own role and personal response to God unique? No-one else can tread the path that I am treading: what is mine to do is mine to do. My role may be considerably more humble and less public, but is that any reason to suppose that my own personal witness and commitment is less worthy in the sight of God?

This brought to mind a couple of lovely passages from “Story of a Soul” by St Therese of Lisieux:

“I understood how all the flowers He has created are beautiful, how the splendour of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not take away the perfume of the little violet or the wonderful simplicity of the daisy. And so it is in the world of souls. He willed to create great souls comparable to lilies and roses, but he has created smaller ones and these must be content to be daisies or violets destined to give joy to God’s glances when he looks down at his feet”.

And in another passage, St Therese questions why God appears to give glory in unequal measures …

“I was surprised that God did not give equal glory to all ….. Then Pauline told me to fetch Papa’s large tumbler and set it alongside my thimble and filled both to the brim with water. She asked me which one was fuller. I told her each was as full as the other and that it was impossible to put in more water than they could contain”

As with so many people (of all religious persuasions) at such a time, the death of the Pope caused us to question where we stand in regard to our relationship with God and also on many ethical and religious issues. I have a real sense that, just as the tsunami in 2005 gave the world an opportunity to unite, the passing of the Pope offered us a further opportunity to unite as one against the sleaze, the corruption, greed and transitory nature of current popular culture and to embrace the aspirations for a world built upon integrity, honesty, truth, purity of heart, mind and intention, peace and justice, fraternal love and respect: all these things which Pope John Paul II so valiantly championed and for which he is now, rightly, being proclaimed ‘Great’.

How are we to unite? Firstly, we need to make our own personal decisions about our own way of life. We need to look to our own consciences about how we are not co-operating with God in the way he is asking us to. Could I carry out that which is mine to carry out with a greater spirit of love and service to others? Could I be a more faithful and loving wife and mother, or husband and father? Could I give greater thanks to God for all that he gives to me every day? Could I be doing better in bringing my children up in the faith? Could I be doing more to protect the rights of those who are vulnerable and on the edge of society? Could I be far more generous with my money? And so much else.

Secondly, we have to unite with all people of goodwill against the pernicious forces which threaten the moral stability of this world. We need to stand up and be counted in the fight against all forms of human degradation, and this includes the – apparently – innocuous pornography and violence on our screens right through to freeing the world of all forms of slavery, especially the evil of child sex slavery.

Seeing the dead body of the Pope in the newspapers and TV at the time forcibly reminded me of St Paul's words (2 Cor 4:7) that the body really is just a worthless earthenware jar. Looking at his grey and completely lifeless face we could see for ourselves, quite clearly, that his soul had flown, leaving what can only be described as a greying and decaying shell. It is a powerful reminder and vivid example of the place that Spirit has – or should have – in our lives. True life is Spirit and we are brought to life by the Holy Spirit engaging with our soul - a process begun at Baptism - and enlivened throughout our lives by the sacraments. When the soul is separated from the body, we can see the grim result: stiff, cold death. Therefore, this logically says to me that our modern obsession with our physical bodies (so dangerous, anyway, for young impressionable minds) is as far removed from what true Life is all about. Our lives, if they are to be in any way meaningful, must be centred on the Spirit: only that can be true Life.