Advertisement
Pope John Paul II was a vital leader when he received his diagnosis of Parkinson’s disease: a sentence of decline and paralysis. But he surrendered, and continued to travel and speak and love and serve until he could no longer move.
OSV News photo/Max Rossi, Reuters
February 11, 2025
Share this article:
There are times when life changes dramatically. Sometimes it’s organic and expected, for example in the teenage years, midlife, older age. These transitions can be frightening in their seismic shifts, but we cannot stand still or atrophy, and grace awaits us in each stage.
Life can also change in an unexpected, jarring way, as in a serious accident, the diagnosis of a debilitating disease, the termination of employment, the outbreak of war. Whether gradual and normal, or sudden and traumatic, these shifts bring up the deepest questions of worth and identity: who am I now, and of what value?
It is deeply ingrained to measure ourselves by our accomplishments - being a grandmother or CEO or a recognized writer or scientist. Wonderful as these accomplishments are, they are not our essence, and cannot serve as the foundation of our being. Each change, each loss can crush us into a sense of worthlessness – or drive us further into our heart to reconnect with our truest identity in God. From that place, we can have the greatest impact on the world even if we are outwardly immobilized.
Before becoming Pope, Cardinal Karol Wojtyla had faced down the death of each of his family members and the menace of Communism in his native Poland. He was an athlete, scholar, actor, as well as a man of prayer. As Pope, he courageously helped to bring down the Iron Curtain. He travelled the world, called to young people, established World Youth Days. He was a vital leader when he received his diagnosis of Parkinson’s disease: a sentence of decline and paralysis.
How could God allow such a tragedy to strike one of His holiest and most influential servants? Along with the world, Pope John Paul must have asked these anguished questions. But he surrendered, and continued to travel and speak and love and serve until he could no longer move. By refusing to hide or be silenced by his weakness, he proclaimed the primacy of the spirit and our union with God. We need to learn this truth rather than putting our trust in human strength.
Did he lose all influence and credibility by the end? Let his last night answer that question: tens of thousands of young people filled St Peter’s Square below his room. Silence and prayer and suffering love filled the Square. His last words to them were, “I have looked for you. Now you have come to me. And I thank you.” Like Christ, his Lord and Beloved, John Paul loved his people until the end, and they recognized God in him.
Cardinal Van Thuan is another charismatic leader. He was named coadjutor Archbishop of Saigon during the Vietnamese civil war, when he was already immensely popular. But six days later, he was arrested by the Communist government and imprisoned. Two insights brought him peace and can shed light for us. The first was on the ship bearing him away from his people. To his question, “how can I speak to, strengthen and love my people when I am separated from them,” he realized “Here is my Cathedral (the ship), here are the people God has given me to care for, here is my mission – to ensure the presence of God among these, my despairing, miserable brothers. It is God’s will that I am here. I accept His will”
The Archbishop suffered 13 years in prison, nine in solitary confinement, and became known for his love and forgiveness towards all, even those who tortured him. Such love can come only from God. In complete isolation, Van Thuan meditated on the sheer helplessness of Christ who hung in agony on the Cross. “He (too) was immobilized. He too was helpless…yet it was from there that He performed His greatest deed: He redeemed us sinners.”
When we can no longer forge our identity or prove our worth through what we do, we must descend to these depths of truth. We came from God. We return to God. He has every minute of our life in His hands. Our call is to love and trust Him in whatever He allows. Sometimes that’s in strength and glory, sometimes in powerlessness and seeming failure. All that matters is receiving His love and giving Him our trust and our hearts. He will enfold all in His Resurrection.
In other words: He is our life. He is our all. Stand in this reality, and you will exude God’s peace for all.
(Cheryl Ann Smith is the director of Madonna House Toronto.)
A version of this story appeared in the February 16, 2025, issue of The Catholic Registerwith the headline "Giving all to be given all by Christ".
Share this article:
Join the conversation and have your say: submit a letter to the Editor. Letters should be brief and must include full name, address and phone number (street and phone number will not be published). Letters may be edited for length and clarity.
Photo courtesy Maria Knapik
In 2023, following a major television documentary claiming that St. John Paul II had covered up clerical sexual abuse when he was leading the Archdiocese of Kraków, Polish experts rejected the claim and urged that archdiocesan records be opened to allow the full context.
