Don Lydon (Fianna Fail)

I was attending the 112th Interparliamentary Union assembly in Manila when I learnt of the Pope's death. When PresidentGloria Macapagal-Arroyo opened the assembly attended by Deputies and Senators of all religions and none from 145 countries, and from dictatorships, principalities, monarchies, socialist and communist countries, all as one stood as a mark of respect to this man. The long period of silence was amazing.

On the day in October 1978 when he became Pope, John Paul II had a great message. The message of this "servant of the servants of God" was the call of Christ to his disciples, "Be not afraid". The Pope said:

Be not afraid to welcome Christ and accept his power. Help the Pope and all those who wish to serve Christ and with Christ's power to serve the human person and the whole of mankind.

Be not afraid. Open wide the doors for Christ. To his saving power open the boundaries of states, economic and political systems, the vast fields of culture, civilisation and development.

Be not afraid. Christ knows "what is in man." He alone knows it.

The world, Pope John Paul II reflected, was afraid of itself and its future. To all those who are afraid and to all those caught in the great loneliness of the modern world, he said, "I ask you . . . . . I beg you, let Christ speak to [you]. He alone has the words of life, yes, eternal life."

The Yugoslav dissident Milovan Djilas once said that what most impressed him about Pope John Paul II was that he was a man utterly without fear. His fearlessness was not stoic, nor was it a consequence of Karol Wojtyla's "autonomy" as a person independent of others. It was an unmistakably Christian fearlessness. In Christian faith fear is not eliminated but transformed, through a profound personal encounter with Christ and His cross — the place where all human fear was offered by the Son to the Father, setting us all free from fear.

Pope John Paul II produced so many writings that it is impossible to refer to more than one or two. In his first encyclical, Redemptor Hominis, he had a simple message which we all know but seldom believe:

God so loved the world that he gave us his only Son so that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.

In 1984 in Salvifici Dolorison the meaning of suffering, he said:

Love is the fullest source of the answer to the question of the meaning of suffering. This answer has been given to man in the Cross of Jesus Christ.

In his famous Letter to Families in 1994 he referred to another encyclical, Veritatis Splendor— the Splendour of Truth:

Why is the splendour of truth so important? First of all, by way of contrast: the development of contemporary civilisation is linked to a scientific and technological progress which is often achieved in a one-sided way, and thus appears purely positivistic. Positivism, as we know, results in agnosticism in theory and utilitarianism in practice and in ethics. In our own day, history is in a way repeating itself.

Utilitarianism is a civilisation of production and of use, a civilisation of "things" and not of "persons", a civilisation in which persons are used in the same way as things are used. In the context of a civilisation of use, woman can become an object for man, children a hindrance to parents, the family an institution obstructing the freedom of its members. To be convinced that this is the case, one need only look at certain sexual education programmes introduced into the schools, often notwithstanding the disagreement and even the protests of many parents; or pro-abortion tendencies which vainly try to hide behind the so-called "right to choose" ("pro-choice") on the part of both spouses, and in particular on the part of the woman. These are only two examples; many more could be mentioned. It is evident that in this sort of cultural situation the family cannot fail to feel threatened, as it is endangered at its very foundations. Everything contrary to the civilisation of love is contrary to the whole truth about man and becomes a threat to him: it does not allow him to find himself or to feel secure, as spouse, parent, or child.

Pope John Paul II lived the papacy, faithful to the Lord's promise to St. Peter that when you are old people will put a belt around you and lead you where you do not wish to go. His suffering and vulnerability before millions became part of his teaching office. It was apparent to all that his authority did not depend merely on his charismatic gifts, rather on his willingness to speak the truth, popular or unpopular, in season or out of season. He was no mere celebrity. He did not care what people thought of him. His strength came from being passionate about the Gospel.

Karol Wojtyla came to resemble G.K. Chesterton's description of Thomas More:

He was above all things, historic: he represented at once a type, a turning point and an ultimate destiny. If there had not been that particular man at that particular moment, the whole of history would have been different.

Like those of Thomas More, Pope John Paul II's historic qualities have not been generically humanistic but specifically religious in origin. They have been, in a word, Christian qualities.

In his great book, Witness to Hope, the biography of Pope John Paul II, George Weigel gives this little vignette which I wish to share with the House:

Piotr and Teresa Malecki, long-time members of Karol Wojtyla's Srodowisko, were staying at the papal villa at Castel Gandolfo in the late summer of 1997 as the Pope's guests. Their bedroom was just below his, and before dawn each morning they knew by the thumping of his cane that he was up and about. One morning, at breakfast, the Pope asked whether the noise was disturbing them. No, they answered, they were getting up for Mass anyway. "But Wujek," they asked, "why do you get up so early in the morning?" Because, said Karol Wojtyla, the 264th Bishop of Rome, "I like to watch the sun rise."

Karol Wojtyla will never again see the rising sun but will, I believe firmly, for all eternity see the risen Son, our Saviour, Jesus Christ, the Son of God. With Jesus, the Holy Spirit and God the Father he will live in the presence of the Holy Trinity in perfect peace. May God bless you, Pope John Paul the Great, and thank you for the great legacy you have given to our troubled world.

I encountered this man three times. Each time I realised the great strength he had. He was the first man to reach out, to go to Canterbury Cathedral and to pray in a mosque. He addressed 10,000 young Muslims in Morocco. He visited a synagogue. He was a man who reached out and gave us hope. Go raibh sé i measc na naomh chun Dia a ghlóiriú go deo.