The next figure introduced by Pope Benedict into the conversation on the impact of modern philosophy on Christian faith and hope is Immanuel Kant.  Recall a previous article when I lamented my lack of exposure to modern philosophy in my seminary formation – that regret returns with just the mention of Kant’s name!  Although I was not in the Modern Philosophy class that first year of seminary, some of my classmates were, and I recall how often they spoke about Kant, especially in a way that they found him difficult to understand.  Though glad to not have had the struggle then, it would have been helpful to me now as I read this current paragraph in Spe salvi.

In his presenting Kant’s thought as an important thinker to consider, the Holy Father draws our attention to a concerning trend that Kant was proposing.  Kant suggests that with the rapid development of rational thought and knowledge, there is a gradual transition away from what he calls “ecclesiastical faith” toward a more “pure religious faith.”

The “Kingdom of God” proclaimed by Jesus receives a new definition here and takes on a new mode of presence; a new “imminent expectation”, so to speak, comes into existence: the “Kingdom of God” arrives where “ecclesiastical faith” is vanquished and superseded by “religious faith”, that is to say, by simple rational faith. (Spe salvi, 19)

As I read this, I thought about the modern trend present in our society where people proclaim that they are “spiritual but not religious.”  It appears as though Kant’s contributions to modern thought offer some philosophical roots to this position.  

After doing a little research on some of the basic tenets of Kant’s philosophy, it is evident that he focuses on a sort of personal spirituality rooted in achieving a form of moral perfection that is supported by moral reason and autonomy, developed primarily from within.  Any sense of an external authority (Divine Revelation, Church documents, Church authority) is held in suspicion as dangerous to his views.  Kant does not outright reject the faith or the Scriptures, but he sees them helpful only insofar as they support the overall goal of living a good, reasonable, moral life.

With the “spiritual but not religious” trend we are seeing more of, we likewise have a distrust of religious organizations as imposing limits on our freedom.  There is a desire to live a good and moral life, but that comes not through obedience to fixed creeds and rules, but is open to a variety of experiences that may speak more to one’s personal preferences.  Many in this position will acknowledge the existence of God, and even pursue a meaningful personal relationship with Him, but having that be in the context of institutions and rituals is seen as unnecessary on the universal level, even if some might find it useful in their pursuit of attaining personal fulfillment and personal well-being.

Last week, I quoted a section of the homily our new Holy Father, Pope Leo XIV preached to the College of Cardinals the day after his election.  I think it is worth repeating that quote as it fits well with this current discussion.  

These are contexts where it is not easy to preach the Gospel and bear witness to its truth, where believers are mocked, opposed, despised or at best tolerated and pitied. Yet, precisely for this reason, they are the places where our missionary outreach is desperately needed. A lack of faith is often tragically accompanied by the loss of meaning in life, the neglect of mercy, appalling violations of human dignity, the crisis of the family and so many other wounds that afflict our society.  (Pope Leo XIV, Holy Mass with the College of Cardinals, 9 May 2025)

Though not mentioned specifically, one of those contexts where we are invited to share the good news of our Catholic faith, and the hope of following Jesus in the context of the Catholic Church, is our family, friends, and colleagues who may identify with this attitude of being “spiritual but not religious.”

May 25^th, 1961. It was the day when President John F. Kennedy addressed a special join session of congress and asked our whole nation for the money and commitment necessary for “achieving the goal, before this decade is out, of landing a man on the moon and returning him safely to the Earth. … I believe we should go to the moon.”  They were famous words, now with greater emotional weight than they had when he slowly and solemnly delivered them, stemming both from the success of that risk, and his being assassinated a year and a half later. 

But I would like you to focus on a different event that took place on the same day. Across the Atlantic Ocean, in a town near Paris, an expert in latex molding, Mr. Rampeau brought to market a little rotomolded rubber giraffe painted with brown spots and black eyes and sold it as a teething toy for little babies. It was a hit. 50 million of the hand-crafted squeezable and chewable figures have been sold since, in many years more of the toys are sold than new babies born in France (and its popularity has now spread around the world). It was called Sophie the Giraffe because Mr. Rampeau was a Catholic, and he sold the first one on St. Madeline Sophie Barat’s feast day in that year of 1961.

It had been almost exactly one hundred years before that Madeline had passed away in the generalate of the Society of the Sacred Heart not so far away in the middle of Paris. She knew her popularity and had refused photographs to be taken of her, so we only have pictures from her deathbed and portraits painted after her death. Still, she was a kind and holy woman, and her countenance reflected those qualities. Yet her story is one that stretches beyond a worldly kindness and into the extraordinary charity of a saint. 

She was born on December 12^th, 1779, actually about two months premature because her mother went into labor amidst the chaos of a house fire next door. She was baptized immediately given how small she was, necessitating pressing into service a local woman who just happened to be going to Mass that morning and her 10 year old brother Louis to stand in for her godparents. It was the beginning of a life that would be often marked by God’s grace in the midst of chaos. Her brother, Louis, had returned home from his seminary studies because he was not yet old enough to be ordained a deacon (he was a precocious student), leading to his becoming Madeline’s tutor and giving her an extraordinary education in philosophy, theology, languages, natural science, and rhetoric. When she was only 10 however, he was arrested as a seminarian during the beginnings of the reign of terror. He would eventually swear the required oath of loyalty to the Civil Constitution of the Clergy, a year later renouncing his oath once the Pope had condemned it (and being imprisoned again, barely escaping the guillotine). 

Those same years were ones in which little Madeline grew up in a home tilted towards Jansenism in its practice of the faith. That heresy is notoriously difficult to pin down (especially given its existence for multiple centuries during this time, and the fact that its adherents ferociously rejected that pejorative title to name their standpoint). In general, it stemmed from an over-emphasis on the absolute holiness of God and a related over-emphasis on human sin, depravity, and unworthiness of grace. It led to a rigid and harsh life of faith and a reading of human weakness as a sign of moral depravity. The Little Flower is perhaps known as the best response that God gave to this perennial temptation, but I would like to propose Madeline as another one. 

As she grew, she found a growing desire to become a Carmelite. Sadly, with religious communities of all sorts abolished in 1790, this dream would never be realized. As often is the case though, it is these setbacks that actually grow our trust and openness to God and such was the case with Sophie. The rigid version of grace and tendency to seek to earn God’s love by hard work (and perhaps the hardest vocation she could think of) melted into a decision to begin a new congregation, the Society of the Sacred Heart, dedicated to the education of girls. They gained followers, and opened more and more schools – always making sure to offer a free education to poor girls alongside of the exceptional education they offered to the better-off young women. Their highest priorities were to love the girls and teach them how to carry love into the rest of their lives. She guided the order for 65 years, passing on Ascension Day in 1865 with more than 3500 members as part of that congregation.

50 million babies have been comforted Sophie the Giraffe. 650 million people were inspired by watching the moon landings. 1 million young people have been directly educated by the Society of the Sacred Heart, but how many more have been impacted by that message of love?

– Fr. Dominic is heading to Washington DC as he writes this for a quick visit to a place I will return this fall to study God’s love, and how human love reflects it. Here’s to continuing the mission!

Before returning to the next paragraph in Pope Benedict’s document on Christian hope, Spe salvi, it is worth taking a moment to acknowledge and celebrate the newest successor of St. Peter, newly elected Pope Leo XIV.  As a sort of humorous aside, since I do not normally write with Roman numerals, I fully expect to make the mistake of transposing the numbers for his name since I have become so accustomed over the years to typing the same letters used for Pope Benedict’s name, though in a different order.  So if I accidentally put XVI instead of XIV, I hope you will be patient with me!

After watching the announcement of the new pope, I found myself reading and listening to people talk about the new Holy Father.  He only spoke briefly when he came out on the loggia to offer his first Urbi et orbi (to the city and to the world) blessing.  I listened to a podcast early the next morning that commented on a variety of things regarding his track record, and what we might expect during his papacy.  But as I said, those were words about him, they were not words from him.  Later that morning, I came across the homily that he preached earlier that day to the College of Cardinals in the Sistine Chapel.  After reading it, I was put at ease, for I had now heard from the pope himself.  I was encouraged at what I read, and there was a section from his homily that really resonated with me.  In speaking about the challenges we face in our present time with preaching the Gospel, he said:

Even today, there are many settings in which the Christian faith is considered absurd, meant for the weak and unintelligent. Settings where other securities are preferred, like technology, money, success, power, or pleasure.

These are contexts where it is not easy to preach the Gospel and bear witness to its truth, where believers are mocked, opposed, despised or at best tolerated and pitied. Yet, precisely for this reason, they are the places where our missionary outreach is desperately needed. A lack of faith is often tragically accompanied by the loss of meaning in life, the neglect of mercy, appalling violations of human dignity, the crisis of the family and so many other wounds that afflict our society.  (Pope Leo XIV, Holy Mass with the College of Cardinals, 9 May 2025)

In many ways, this acknowledgment of the challenges being faced is very much in line with what we have been considering over the past two weeks from Spe salvi.  The relatively modern shift away from faith toward science and reason has made the Good News seem less and less relevant, and even foolish to the world’s “more advanced” understanding and sensibilities.

In the next paragraph for our consideration in Spe salvi, Pope Benedict notes that “two categories become increasingly central to the idea of progress: reason and freedom.” (Spe salvi, 18) But reason and freedom, according to these modern thinkers “were tacitly interpreted as being in conflict with the shackles of faith and of the Church as well as those of the political structures of the period.” (ibid.)

From the first homily of Pope Leo, it is encouraging that he sees clearly what Pope Benedict is emphasizing as to what continues to be a threat to the spread of the Gospel message in our modern times.  And thanks be to God, the Holy Father is not willing to back down from the challenge.  In his homily, he is encouraged the Cardinals to join in this effort to faithfully proclaim the Gospel in the midst of difficult settings.  Of course, this is something to which we are all called.  He said as much in the words he addressed to the world that afternoon of his election:

All of us are in God’s hands. So, let us move forward, without fear, together, hand in hand with God and with one another other! We are followers of Christ. Christ goes before us. The world needs his light. Humanity needs him as the bridge that can lead us to God and his love. Help us, one and all, to build bridges through dialogue and encounter, joining together as one people, always at peace. (Pope Leo XIV, First “Urbi et Orbi” Blessing of the Holy Father, 8 May 2025)

Address by then Bp. Robert Prevost at the Synod on Evangelization in 2012 

BISHOP PREVOST: Western mass media is extraordinarily effective in fostering within the general public enormous sympathy for beliefs and practices that are at odds with the Gospel — for example, abortion, homosexual lifestyle, euthanasia. Religion is at best tolerated by mass media as tame and quaint when it does not actively oppose positions on ethical issues that the media have embraced as their own. However, when religious voices are raised in opposition to these positions, mass media can target religion, labeling it as ideological and insensitive in regard to the so-called vital needs of people in the contemporary world. 

The sympathy for anti-Christian lifestyle choices that mass media fosters is so brilliantly and artfully ingrained in the viewing public that when people hear the Christian message, it often inevitably seems ideological and emotionally cruel by contrast to the ostensible humaneness of the anti-Christian perspective. Catholic pastors who preach against the legalization of abortion or the redefinition of marriage are portrayed as being ideologically driven, severe, and uncaring — not because of anything they say or do, but because their audiences contrast their message with the sympathetic, caring tones of media-produced images of human beings who, because they are caught in morally complex life situations, opt for choices that are made to appear as healthful and good. 

Note, for example, how alternative families comprised of same-sex partners and their adopted children are so benignly and sympathetically portrayed in television programs and cinema today. If the new evangelization is going to counter these mass media-produced distortions of religious and ethical reality successfully, pastors, preachers, teachers and catechists are going to have to become far more informed about the context of evangelizing in a world dominated by mass media. 

The church fathers offered a formidable response to those non-Christian and anti-Christian literary and rhetorical forces at work throughout the Roman Empire in shaping the religious and ethical imaginations of the day. The Confessions of St. Augustine, with its central image of the cor inquietam, has shaped the way that Western Christians and non-Christians reimagine the adventure of religious conversion. In his City of God, Augustine used the tale of Alexander the Great’s encounter with a captured pirate to ironize the supposed moral legitimacy of the Roman Empire. 

Church fathers, among them John Chrysostom, Ambrose, Leo the Great, Gregory of Nyssa, were not great rhetoricians insofar as they were great preachers. They were great preachers because they were first great rhetoricians. In other words, their evangelizing was successful in 

great part because they understood the foundations of social communication appropriate to the world in which they lived. Consequently, they understood with enormous precision the techniques through which popular religious and ethical imaginations of their day were manipulated by the centers of secular power in that world. 

Moreover, the Church should resist the temptation to believe that it can compete with modern mass media by turning the sacred liturgy into spectacle. Here again, church fathers such as Tertullian remind us today that visual spectacle is the domain of the saeculum, and that our proper mission is to introduce people to the nature of mystery as an antidote to spectacle. As a consequence, evangelization in the modern world must find the appropriate means for redirecting public attention away from spectacle and into mystery. 

At least in the contemporary western world, if not throughout the entire world, the human imagination concerning both religious faith and ethics is largely shaped by mass media, especially by television and cinema. Western mass media is extraordinarily effective in fostering within the general public enormous sympathy for beliefs and practices that are at odds with the Gospel. 

However, overt opposition to Christianity by mass media is only part of the problem. The sympathy for anti-Christian lifestyle choices that mass media fosters is so brilliantly and artfully engrained in the viewing public, that when people hear the Christian message it often inevitably seems ideological and emotionally cruel by contrast to the ostensible humaneness of the anti-Christian perspective. 

If the “New Evangelization” is going to counter these mass media-produced distortions of religious and ethical reality successfully, pastors, preachers, teachers and catechists are going to have to become far more informed about the challenge of evangelizing in a world dominated by mass media. 

The Fathers of the Church, including Saint Augustine, can provide eminent guidance for the Church in this aspect of the New Evangelization, precisely because they were masters of the art of rhetoric. Their evangelizing was successful in great part because they understood the foundations of social communication appropriate to the world in which they lived. 

In order to combat successfully the dominance of the mass media over popular religious and moral imaginations, it is not sufficient for the Church to own its own television media or to sponsor religious films. The proper mission of the Church is to introduce people to the nature of mystery as an antidote to spectacle. Religious life also plays an important role in evangelization, pointing others to this mystery, through living faithfully the evangelical counsels 

– Fr. Dominic wanted to give you a taste of our new Holy Father this week. 

Having muddled my way through an attempt to give the most fundamental explanation of the philosophical system proposed by Francis Bacon, I hope this week will be a little more articulate in explaining how Pope Benedict continues his reflection on the impact of this and other thinkers of Bacon’s era on the topic of faith and hope.

The Holy Father explains the consequences of this “disturbing step” taken by Bacon and his system of thinking:

up to that time, the recovery of what man had lost through the expulsion from Paradise was expected from faith in Jesus Christ: herein lay “redemption”. Now, this “redemption”, the restoration of the lost “Paradise” is no longer expected from faith, but from the newly discovered link between science and praxis. (Spe salvi, 17)

The pope then describes how this philosophy not only affects the understanding of faith, but hope as well, taking on a new form that Bacon calls “faith in progress” (ibid.) Our hope no longer lies in the faith given to us through the promises of Jesus Christ, but rather in the promises that science and technology will bring about as they propose solutions to problems that had, up to that point, been thought impossible or unexplainable.  

Francis Bacon has been recognized as saying that the “Three Great Inventions” of the Renaissance were the printing press, gunpowder, and the mariner’s compass.  The printing press enabled the more rapid expansion of knowledge and thus would make possible the faster spread of information about new inventions that would support his system.  Gunpowder marked a significant change in the ability of those who were less powerful to contend with their opponents, thus allowing for alterations to well-established power structures.  The mariner’s compass made navigation easier, and was at the service of new discoveries that could expand our understanding of a variety of topics.  These were examples of how applied knowledge and technology were capable of changing how we understand the world around us.

There is no question that the past several decades has seen remarkable growth in science and technology, especially with the growth of the Internet, medical breakthroughs, travel to space, and most recently, Artificial Intelligence.  Those who find Bacon’s philosophy attractive will be all the more convinced of its veracity given the ample evidence to support it.  The Holy Father says as much when he concludes this paragraph by writing: “[a]s the ideology of progress developed further, joy at visible advances in human potential remained a continuing confirmation of faith in progress as such.” (ibid.)

In response to philosophies that try to claim that science and technology are slowly chipping away at our need for faith, the Church has not remained idle.  I think of somebody like Father Robert Spitzer, S.J., a Jesuit who has written and spoken extensively on faith and reason, offering a sound intellectual response to support how these two fields are not opposed, and how the many advances in science do not indeed explain away the faith.  The Church is often accused of being anti-science, but such a claim is based on little awareness on how much faithful Catholics, past and present, have contributed to the development of science while maintaining the need for faith.

What more might we learn from Pope St. John Paul II regarding building around ourselves our own środowisko, a culture or environment or framework, of faith? Just to recap, we began with those first days of Fr. Wojtyła beginning to live life with young people in Krakow, showing them an external, and internal, freedom that they had never known. Before that, as a young man, it was the heartfelt prayer learned from his own father, and learned while suffering the loss of his own father, that had led him towards God’s call to be a priest and nourished him spiritually for the rest of his life. And, on top of those beautiful, and painful, periods of his early life, another characteristic that was always part of him was the simple choice to care deeply about every person around him.

Freedom lived with others. Prayer learned from others. Love given to others. 

Notice the pattern: John Paul II didn’t navigate life alone. So many times, what we emphasize about his life: his philosophical erudition, his charism and energy, his mysticism, his political adroitness, his greatness on the world stage, his love for hiking and skiing, his humility amidst the rigors of Parkinson’s … Each of those things considered on their own could sketch for us a man who was incredibly gifted from the beginning, picked by God for a sublime mission, and who ran the race before him very much on his own. 

I recall one particular afternoon while in seminary in Rome texting a couple other guys to see if they wanted to go for a run. I cautioned that I wasn’t wanting to do anything crazy and we could go as slow as we wanted and just enjoy a couple miles together. Well, as we got through the first mile and had a nice long downhill I was feeling pretty good, so we (I) picked up the pace. And if you’re going at a good clip you don’t want to slow down on the flat mile in front of St. Peter’s (this was while I was in Rome). AND, if you have a pretty good time you might as well storm up the final hill at full speed… We finished our run, said a prayer together before the little grotto of Our Lady, and one of the guys turned to me: “Bro, I came out here to take it easy and have fun together, and you didn’t let us do that at all.” It was a rebuke; it was humbling. I still struggle with that today: going for a jog with others and pushing it too fast. 

But I think all of us do. 

Maybe it is not in running, but who of us does not have some area of life where we feel a little bit desperate and our temptation is to just leave somebody else behind because we are feeling the pressure to finish, fix, or figure something out. Money is tight, or I’m getting older, or the todo list is too long, or the culture isn’t what we want it to be, or we need to make a decision now, or I need to get to something else and don’t have time for you right now… Our world is constantly pressing into us the lie that “You’re not good enough.” Think about it: every advertisement, every website, most of our interactions with other people, and even just the noise and hubbub and stoplights that get in our way each day, are – down where we don’t even notice it anymore – saying “Go faster.”; “Do more.”; “It’s not enough.”

The fact is, if we are operating out of that posture – out of fear, worry, hustle, or not-good-enough-ness – we are more faithful disciples of the internet than we are disciples of Jesus.

And the consequence of the constant running, constant trying to make ends meet, constant worry about the next thing is that we will not have time for other people – at least, not real people, who aren’t perfect and who might realize that we aren’t perfect either – and that frenetic solo-ing of life is absolutely poisonous to really being rooted in God, to really living a human life. So, one more part of środowisko then is simple: “Be not afraid.” 

Such were JPII’s first words as Pope when he stepped out on the logia of St. Peter’s: Do not be 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, civilization and development. Do not be afraid. Christ knows “what is in man”. He alone knows it. So often today man does not know what is within him, in the depths of his mind and heart. So often he is uncertain about the meaning of his life on this earth. He is assailed by doubt, a doubt which turns into despair. We ask you therefore, we beg you with humility and trust, let Christ speak to man. He alone has words of life, yes, of eternal life.

– Fr. Dominic was not alive when JPII was elected Pope. When Benedict was elected, he was 12 years old and first starting to serve Mass with his brother (who had just received his First Communion), and when Francis was elected, he was on break during his first year of seminary. You may find it a beautiful thing to pray about this week: How has God carried you (and the Church) through the different Popes that were part of your life? 

When I entered seminary in 2006, it was at a time when the Church in the United States was making a transition to a new set of expectations with regards to a candidate’s formation in philosophy before beginning the study of theology.  For those who already had a college degree, a time of pre-theology was required during which that necessary study of philosophy was undertaken.  For many seminaries, this involved cramming several classes in philosophy into a single year, often presented in a non-systematic way.  Seeing the problem with this, the bishops of the United States would now require that the study of philosophy would span two full years, ensuring an adequate study of this topic.  I found myself at the tail end of the one-year study of philosophy, and as a result, certain classes in that discipline were left out.  One such class that I did not have to take was Modern Philosophy.  At the time, I was grateful to not have to take the class, having heard of its reputation for being pretty difficult.  But as I read the next paragraph in Spe Salvi, my gratitude for dodging that class turned into regret, as I found myself feeling rather unequipped to appreciate the Holy Father’s reflections on the impact of modern philosophy on the topic of faith and hope.

Pope Benedict begins by asking why there has been a shift toward a “narrowly individualistic” idea of hope and a “selfish search for salvation which rejects the idea of serving others.” (Spe Salvi, 16) To begin answering that question, he turns to one of the early, key figures in modern philosophy, Francis Bacon.  Since my knowledge of this important figure in modern thought was so lacking, I decided to do a little research.  Francis Bacon has been referred to many as the father of empiricism.  A basic definition of empiricism is that it is “the philosophical theory that all knowledge comes from sensory experience. In other words, we learn and understand the world through what we see, hear, touch, taste, and smell.” (from Catholic Encyclopedia).

We can begin to see a problem with this type of philosophy, because it discounts or discredits anything not based on sensory experience, including faith and divine revelation, which are essential for the Christian world-view.  Recall the definition of faith given in the Letter to the Hebrews: “Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen.” (Heb. 11:1) My guess is that Fracis Bacon, and the system he promoted, would have seen this passage as foolish.  If it cannot be seen or experienced, it cannot be verified and it must not be true.  Now, given that I am lacking in my understanding of modern philosophy, perhaps my conclusion is a bit too black and white, and that the position of empiricism is a little more nuanced.  But nevertheless, I think we can begin to see how such a way of thinking can lead to trouble for a worldview rooted in faith.

In the conclusion of this paragraph, Pope Benedict notes that this way of thinking proposed by Bacon “would mean that the dominion over creation —given to man by God and lost through original sin—would be reestablished” (Spe Salvi, 16) Original sin has the effect of darkening our intellect, and thus our relationship to creation has been damaged.  Instead of relying on faith and grace to overcome this deficit, Bacon is proposing that science and progress can bring about a reestablishment of what had been lost.

What comes to mind is a term I heard many years ago, in which humanity claims a sort of “intellectual pride” over previous generations.  They did not know as much as we do now, thus their reliance on things like faith to explain what they could not understand.  But now, being more advanced, we are much smarter and better equipped to answer those questions to where faith is no longer necessary.  The more we tap into science and technology, there is no problem we cannot solve, thus eliminating just about any need for faith.  

Perhaps that is a bit of a stretch, and there is likely much more nuance to this position, but I think we can begin to see the danger of this way of thinking, and how necessary it is for us to have an adequate response to it, which, thanks be to God, the Church does.

The word “środowisko”, you’ll recall, is tricky to translate. Milieu or environment captures something of it, but community or circle add a necessary human/relational quality that certainly is part of how Fr. Karol Wojtyła used the word. It comes from the root word “środek” meaning center, and the suffix “-isko” which adds the connotation of location or context. Środowisko is something we all have, it is the relationships, activities, and outlook that locate and center us, that support and solidify us. I say we all have this, but certainly the quality of our srodowisko can vary a lot! A few questions that might help to dig into this: 

• Who do you call if you have a flat tire? 
• Does anyone else know the heaviest cross you’re carrying right now? 
• When is the last time you laughed, or danced, or played, or hiked with abandon? 
• Do you ever pray with someone else? 

Take these as simple, gentle, questions that probe the depth of the relationships and friendships that you have around you right now – a sketch of your środowisko. They’re just the questions that come to the top of my mind, certainly incomplete, probably prompted by my own experience of community. I think all of us may want more here, perhaps a lot more. Maybe you’re thinking that you don’t have anybody around you right now. Take a deep breath, God has plans for your good, your joy, and it includes providing the entire środowisko that you’ll need to become a saint (and He has a splendid środowisko that He is readying for you in eternity). AND, keep in mind the heartbroken young Karol who, it seemed, had lost everyone that he loved at twenty, or several years later as a young priest when (1st) he was reassigned from his first parish after only a few months or (2nd) when he was asked to begin doctoral studies just as all his student ministry was starting to flower – God had plans for him just as he does for you. 

Ok. That reaffirmed, let’s look at Fr. Karol Wojtyła’s life for a first step we can all take in the right direction. A few anecdotes that I think point towards a simple theme: When playing soccer as a youngster, he noticed that the Jewish boys often joined together on one team and did not have a goalie. Little Lolek did not hesitate to jump in as their keeper to balance the sides. As a seminarian, while boarding the train he saw a bedraggled girl freezing on the platform. He brought her some food and tea, carried her onto the train, and wrapped his own cloak around her. She was Edith Zierer, 13 years old, escaped from the labor camp near Czestochowa, 

starving, infested with lice, and credits Karol with saving her life. She wrote to him when he became pope and visited him at the Vatican, and they kept up a written correspondence until he died. Jerzy Ciesielski would become one of the coordinators of the many outdoor expeditions of Środowisko, was the one who taught Karol how to kayak, and was also an engineer. Fr. Wojtyła would spend hours letting the young man lecture him on mathematics and breakthroughs in engineering, perhaps not the first inclination for a want to be actor and philologist, but he never cut Jerzy’s ramblings off. (Actually, when writing an article for a Catholic magazine in 1957 about his ministry in the mountains, Fr. Karol asked Jerzy to be a co-author with him). For his entire time in Krakow, including as Bishop, whenever one of his students was expecting he gave a personal day of recollection for the mother. From Witness to Hope by George Weigel: “He always had time,” Teresa Malecka recalled. “He understood that to baptize means to come home, to be with the family, to bless the baby sleeping in the bed. We didn’t have to ask him to do this; he wanted to do it.” 

A final story (from John Paul the Great, His Five Loves by Jason Evert): During an ad limina visit to Rome, Bishop Robert Brom was surprised when Pope John Paul II looked at him and said, “I think we have met before.” Brom, certain they hadn’t, politely disagreed. The Pope persisted, and days later, his secretary, Monsignor Stanisław Dziwisz, told Brom, “Don’t argue with the Pope, he remembers when he met you.” The meeting had taken place in November 1963 (decades before), outside the Church of the Gesù in Rome. Brom, then a seminarian at the North American College during the Second Vatican Council, had briefly crossed paths with Bishop Karol Wojtyła, the auxiliary bishop of Kraków, as they entered and exited the church with their respective groups. The moment had slipped Brom’s mind, but not Wojtyła’s. When Brom asked how the Pope could remember such an encounter, Dziwisz replied, “For John Paul, to meet another person is to encounter God.” Years later, near the end of the Pope’s life, John Paul brought it up again: “How many times have we met, and when was the first time?” This time, Brom got it right. John Paul slapped his desk, smiled, and said, “Finally you remember!” 

And so the takeaway: JPII cared about everyone that he met. He had all the time in the world for them and never let the next thing take his concern away from them. What if you or I did the same? This is not a super-power, but it is something that requires grace! The fact is we don’t have enough love for everyone if we’re trying to do so under our own steam, BUT what if we began each day simply asking the Lord to love each person through us? What if God provided the love? 

It might be a step towards the środowisko God wants for you! 

Fr. Dominic