John Paul II and the drama of atheistic humanism : political and anthropological perspectives

Abstract

It was Saturday April 2, 2005 I was watching the television with my wife. Flash news broke through the programme we were watching; "Il Papa e' morto". It was a moment that embraced the entire world, a moment that will be remembered for the years to come. You feel helpless when your father dies. When you were young he was strong. He lifted you up, carried you around and taught you. When he is no longer there, you will feel lost and alone without him. This was the feeling in Saint Peter's Square on April 2, 2005, where pilgrims kept vigil, their faces traced in the low light by candles. Among the believers there was a sense of disbelief, of how the life of this once a strong man was now coming to the end. Is it possible that the life of the Holy Father, who had carried his people so far, lifted them so high, taught them so much was now dying? Everybody was praying. All around the globe in Cathedrals and Churches masses were said for him. It was as if at that moment the whole world was joined together with the people gathered in Saint Peter's Square. The world became united as one, in his great pastorship and leadership. The world became still, attentively listening to the news agencies. At 9:37pm of that Saturday night the bells of the Vatican Basilica began to toll. The lights of the papal apartments were in full light. Something had happened at that particular moment. Karol J ozef W ojtyla, Vicar of Christ and Head of the billion members of the Roman Catholic Church, died at age 84 after spending his life following Christ. His last appearance in public was from his papal apartment window, a few days before, on Wednesday following Easter Sunday. He was visibly frustrated at being unable to utter a blessing or a prayer. If one had to ask me what he wanted to say to the people gathered at Saint Peter's Square, I believe the words would have been: "Be not afraid".