In my nearly forty years of journalistic work, only two people have profoundly influenced me. Others I cannot remember and even try to forget them. These two exceptional persons were Adolfo Suárez(1) and John Paul II. I did not have the opportunity to meet them personally. I could not even feel worthy of their friendship. They both appeared in my life as a shooting star, but so intense that it has enlightened my whole existence. In addition, they both shared something special, namely, they looked at you as if you were the only person they were interested in. It seemed honest and authentic. In the case of the Pope there was an additional something. In his gestures and eyes you could see, as if through an afterglow, the presence of God acting in this soul, carved in pain and suffering.
“We Want Catholic Bishops”
My first great experience was on November 6, 1982, at the Javier Castle. I was a young, twenty-four-year-old employee of the regional department of the Spanish television in Navarra. Unfortunately, I was not included in the team that served the first visit of John Paul II in Spain. I did not care. I felt like an ordinary pilgrim, standing under a big banner, where there was something written in Polish. I asked what the words meant. “We want Catholic bishops”, answered one young man. “This is a message to the Pope … Oh, you know, Cirarda, the fighter”(2). I did not answer and turned my eyes to the Javier Castle, where Christ bled during the agony of the Apostle of India when the dying was staring at the coast of China(3). The wait in Javier was long and the weather was cold. People crowded around and they listened to radio reports from the Pope’s visit to Loyola. John Paul II asked the religious to be the model of life for others. His words spoke of forgiveness, here in this land, tormented by hatred and pain. These were very hard times for us.
In this atmosphere of expectation, the words of the Pope comforted me:
Violence is not a method of building anything. It offends God, it offends its victims and perpetrators
We all nodded listening to the Holy Father. Someone interrupted the silence, saying “so courageous”, referring to John Paul II.
In Javier I only saw him from afar: a white spot on the background of the gray mass of the castle, transformed into a church. But I heard his loud, convincing voice:
Christ needs you and urges you to help millions of your brothers so that everyone would become fully man and would be saved. Live according to the noble ideals you carry in your soul and do not succumb to the temptations of hedonism, hatred and violence that degrade humanity. Open your hearts to Christ, his law of love
Immediately after the departure of the Pope, it poured rain. We reached Pamplona soaked to the skin but my thought focused on this slogan “Catholic bishops” which was in contradiction to the words of the Pope. “Violence is not a method of building anything. It offends God… it offends its victims… and perpetrators”. After assimilating these ideas, I finally managed to fall asleep.
Blessing in the Nunciature
John Paul II visited Spain five times. In 1993, he arrived in Madrid to dedicate the Almudena Cathedral. And again I was not included in the group serving His Holiness and I did not understand why. I asked God to see the Pope. I prayed fervently because I was aware that it was practically impossible. I did not have that notorious and necessary accreditation. But the Lord surprised me again. One morning I was alone in
the editorial office. “Go to the nunciature …” my boss called out suddenly. “Some crazy people do not stop screaming there”. I hurried and left the office; the crew was already waiting for me. And indeed, already on the spot, I saw a swarm of young people screaming the Spanish rhyming phrase: “Juan Pablo segundo, te quiere todo el muuuuundo…”. “John Paul II, the whole world loves you … the whole wooooorld”. Shouts grew stronger. I approached the fence surrounding the nunciature building. The operator followed me. The youngsters screamed louder and louder… and suddenly the pope appeared. He stood very close to me. I was paralyzed. At that moment, I did not remember my persistent request to God. The Holy Father looked at all the people with unspoken tenderness and blessed us in a way that had nothing in common with a routine blessing. Quite the opposite. He made a serious gesture, sublime and full of content… I also made the sign of the cross in the presence of my surprised comrades and looked up at the sky thanking the Lord for this unexpected gift. I did not await neither the Pope’s blessing nor his wide smile. These moments have enriched my life and I will never forget them. The blessing of John Paul II in the nunciature, where – as I found out later – he spent long hours praying and lying prostrate on the floor before the Blessed Sacrament…
Do Not Be Afraid to Talk to Him
In 2003, this Pope came back to Spain last time. It was not the same person I had seen in Javier and in the nunciature. Sick and weak, he still held a crozier, relevant to popes and decorated with a crucifix. There were only three travels left for the ailing pope and some life before him, yet he still impressed the world with an example of the great dignity of his old age. I recall his words spoken in Cuatro Vientos, still so up-to-date:
The spiral of violence, terrorism and war still causes hatred and death, even in our day. Peace, as we know, is first of all a gift from on High for which we must constantly ask and which, furthermore, we must all build together by means of a profound inner conversion
It imprinted on my memory. At that time, I lost my mother. In my personal lifes, I experienced a painful divorce, another spiral of violence, which leaves deep and bloody wounds in our souls. These are silent, tacit wars that also kill children.
Do not be afraid to talk about him – the Pope called – for Christ is the true answer to all questions about man and his destiny
This message has become a reassurement for my soul… I wanted to kiss the Pope’s hands and cry, as Niña Pastori did when she sang her moving version of Ave María, to millions of people.
See You in Heaven
John Paul II passed away two years later, April 2, 2005, at the age of 84. I remember that event very well because it was me who passed this message in the teletext of Spanish television. “The Pope died”. A brief statement that went out into the world and when I was passing it, it reminded me of that meeting and blessing in the nunciature in Madrid in 1993. “See you in heaven”, I repeated inwardly, as I was typing and editing this urgent message about the Pope who had come from a far country.
José G. Concepción, journalist of TVE, Madrid
(1) Adolfo Suarez (1932-2014), a Spanish politician and attorney and, in 1976-1982, prime minister during the country’s transition to democracy after the regime of Francisco Franco (Ed.).
(2) José María Cirarda (1917-2008), bishop of Santander and Córdoba and , in 1978-1993, archbishop of Pamplona and Tudela. He was an opponent of the Franco regime and supporter of the reforms of the Second Vatican Council which were used in the ideologico-political dispute in Spain. He supported dialogue with ETA (Ed.).
(3) According to tradition a Gothic crucifix was bleeding during the agony of St. Francis Xavier (Ed.).