Tribute To Pope John Paul Ii
Mr. Speaker, I, too, want to thank my distinguished colleague from Arizona for organizing this time for us to pay our respects to a man who has had a profound impact on our world and a profound impact on the oppressed throughout this…
Mr. Speaker, I, too, want to thank my distinguished colleague from Arizona for organizing this time for us to pay our respects to a man who has had a profound impact on our world and a profound impact on the oppressed throughout this world.
We feel sad because of our loss, but this is natural. But we should, in fact, rejoice, for I have no doubt that this great son of Poland has ascended into heaven and has been welcomed home by our Lord, whom he did so much to serve with his life that he was given.
We should not dwell on our loss, but we should rejoice for all the years we were privileged to know him, to see him, to hear him, and to learn from his example. We should rejoice in the strength he had inspired by his faith and conviction to suffer through Parkinson's for so many years, to survive an assassination attempt, and the unsurpassed Christian spirit to confront his nearly successful assassin and forgive him and pray with him, and to know that he is at peace now with the Heavenly Father he so nobly and humbly served.
It is difficult to remember what the world was like before we had the example of our Pope a scant 27 years ago. The year he was chosen, Iranian protests were brewing that would lead to the imminent fall of the Shah, usher in the ayatollahs, and produce an era of war and terror. The Soviet Union was jailing religious dissidents and staging coups such as that which they nurtured in Afghanistan and followed with a full-fledged invasion.
Before John Paul II, we did not yet have the vision and the leadership of
Ronald Reagan nor of Margaret Thatcher, who, together with them, he would usher in the end to the Cold War. We were told that the West was in irreversible decline, and that the freedom bequeathed to us as an inalienable right, preserved and protected by the wisdom of the people assembled in democratic government, had failed. The peoples of the world were being told that individual dignities should be subjugated to the collective. It seemed that the only religion was that of the state, and that it was to the state that people thought we should direct our worship.
A young Pole named Lech Walesa had not yet dreamed that a simple concept like solidarity could overcome the awesome forces of fear and oppression that were the Soviet system; that is, until another son of Poland had ascended to the throne of St. Peter and did what he would do for the rest of his life: He provided the world with a brilliant example of the best of humanity.
John Paul II knew better than the conventional wisdom of the intelligentsia, of those who had surrendered their birthright, who had chosen to obey the commands of the state, who had ceased to recognize the demands of the respect for human dignity.
He believed that communism would fall and freedom reign, because communism at its core represented a false understanding of human nature. He knew that totalitarianism in all of its forms would fall. He was in a position to know this because of the cruel and harsh experience he gained having seen them both up front and close as a youth, as Poland was plagued by both Nazi fascism and then communism.
He saw from an up-close vantage what is possible when authority is perverted to a philosophy contemptuous of life. He wrote to a friend, while a cardinal, that a degradation, indeed a pulverization, of the fundamental uniqueness of each human person was at the heart of the sickness in the human heart that made the tragedies of the 20th century possible; that when this happens, as it did in the totalitarianism ideologies of communism and fascism, the result was the unnatural death of 120 million people in Europe and Asia.
This truth is epitomized in an image seared in the collective memory of the world, when the Pope went to the Holy Land, bowed in remembrance over the memorial flame in Yad Vashem, the Jewish Holocaust memorial.
The experience of this youth informed his mission as a Pontiff and was made possible because of his indomitable faith in the Creator.
He fiercely pursued an agenda that life in all of its forms is sacred because it is created by God, especially human life, which is created in his image. Stalin once derisively remarked that the Pope was a relatively powerless person, a mere figurehead, once famously asking an aide, how many divisions does he have?
Stalin never had to come to face John Paul II, but later communist leaders would come to know the danger posed by this man and what he represented on Earth and in heaven. They knew that if the Church led by this man was not dealt with sooner or later, it would destroy them throughout the world where the people would travel to places where people were trapped under communism, and totalitarianism parts of the world that did not dare have hope until they saw John Paul II.
The power was understood by those tyrants who feared that John Paul II would come to them, would visit their land and inspire those people. This was understood by the communist masters of Poland, when the newly installed Pope made his first visit there in 1979, returning to the land of his youth, of his first flock as a young priest.
The Soviet system knew that it had met its match when one-third of all of the people in Poland turned out to witness the homecoming of their native son. The only thing for the Soviets to do was to tremble, and the trembling that started that day did not end until the Berlin Wall came down 12 years later.
The last few outposts of repression that remain in our world today deeply fear the loss of their power by the words and the actions of a simple man who would bring a measure of freedom. It was a simple, yet eternal, message of faith in the almighty. It almost defies our pitiful ability to comprehend just how different the world is today as we celebrate this man's life and mourn our having lost him.
On my bookshelf at home I have a well-read book of George Geigel's biography of John Paul II titled, I think appropriately, ``Witness to Hope.'' Billions of people around the world saw this man in that way, whether in the full vigor of his youthful pontificate or in his advanced years. For billions of people around the world, the sight of this man was to see hope. He stood for Catholicism and all of the principles; yet he was appreciated by all people around the world.
Here was a man who, while standing for his faith, brought the essence of freedom to everyone unapologetically. His 26-year Papacy saw him take this message to every corner of the world. He was seen by more of his flock than perhaps all of his 263 predecessors combined. He reached out to Jews, Muslims, Protestants, and the Eastern Orthodox Church. He took the time to learn at least a few phrases in over 100 different languages just so that he could communicate his message of hope at every place that he visited.
His message of human dignity is understood in every language, and it was understood in every land he saw during the generation he served humanity and God as the bishop of Rome.
In one of his many writings, he argued that humanity is right to seed freedom, but only if it is a freedom that is used to do justice. And justice, as he reminded us, is to confer, preserve, protect, prolong, and give meaning and value to life.
The spread of freedom will continue unabated in his absence. It will continue to inspire by his example as America leads a providential mission that humanity will only know peace and prosperity when every one of God's children knows the freedom and enjoys the dignity bestowed on them by their heavenly Father.
We thank our heavenly Father that we were able to know this man and to benefit by his love for us and the love of God. We will profit and do service to our children if we remember the words of this man who will soon be known across history as John Paul the Great.
Freedom has continually to be won; it cannot merely be possessed. It comes as a gift, but can only be kept with a struggle. Gift and struggle are written into pages, hidden yet open.