“When I try to imagine what Heaven will be like, I think it must be like the time when I was a small boy. In this environment of trust, joy and love, we were happy, and I think that Heaven must be rather like those early years. So in a way, I am hoping to return “home” when I leave for “the other part of the world” (Pope Benedict at the Seventh World Meeting of Families in Milan in 2012).
I may have written this odd fact before, but as a preschooler I used to believe that I would one day marry Pope John Paul II. I would regularly kiss his picture in devoted love.
Obviously I wasn’t yet aware of the potential problems that our betrothal would bring. I knew nothing yet of the grandness of Catholic realities, such as “vows of celibacy” and such. I knew that he had eyes, a smile, and a certain gravity when he prayed that made me love him. And of course I was assured of his love for me, and therefore marriage was assumed. Even as a little girl, the Jesus within him drew me to him.
My love for him continued as I grew. And when he passed away I cried. Scott drove me to the church to drop off flowers.
In my great ignorance I had never heard of Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger. Scott, as a convert, would have known who he was. He knew that he was John Paul II’s right hand man, and that he was solid, trustworthy, and “the man” as the head of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. I wouldn’t have even known what that was.
I was saved, therefore, from the ugly nicknames people had labelled him with, the prejudices and assumptions that were made because he had the unpopular job, heaven save us, of protecting the holy work of truth in the Church.
The day of his election was strange for me. I had never experienced the election of a new pope. Who could possibly walk out that door, and what would it mean? And then the white smoke plumed and we waited for the arrival. And when Pope Benedict walked out onto the balcony, his eyes, his gentle smile, even somehow the colours of his vestments, made me fall in love again. He, like his predecessor, had a certain joyful gravity. As he stood on that balcony, I felt, somehow, that truth was safe in his hands.
Over the years I have become used to discovering myself inspired by his words. Whenever I would Google search “great Catholic quotes on… dignity… strength… faithfulness…” – whatever – I would choose the most beautiful and then, without much surprise, see once again the author’s name: my Benedict.
I have felt an anger at times (I might call it righteous) towards the insults thrown his way. Some hideous caricature was created of a man that others more worthy of my trust called the most brilliant yet humble mind on the planet.
The story of his life, his family, the work he did behind the scenes, is rarely mentioned, though a secular article I recently came across acknowledged his attempts to rid the Church of the most obvious filth: “But he rarely got credit for another important aspect of his legacy: having done more than anyone before him to turn the Vatican around on clergy sexual abuse. As cardinal and pope, Benedict pushed through revolutionary changes to church law to make it easier to defrock predator priests, and he sacked hundreds of them (848 removed, with another 2,500 penalized). He was the first pontiff to meet with abuse survivors.” I’ve heard it said that the system he oversaw to deal with accusations has been adopted by numerous other institutions.
Benedict regretted the work he was unable to complete, and I suppose that may have had something to do with his resignation. But his requests for forgiveness before he died show that he still felt a burden of perhaps not having done what he thought was enough. Benedict’s final testament revealed a tender heart who thought first of God’s goodness to him, then to his family, and all that they had done for him. He asked forgiveness again and ended with a plea to be cautious and not taken in by temptations to doubt.
They say his last words were, “Jesus, I love You.” As Dr. Scott Hahn acknowledged, Benedict wrote 66 books, three encyclicals, four exhortations, with 71 years of homilies and essays, and it was all summed up with, “Jesus, I love You.”
For me, those words will always be the most obvious thing to remember about Benedict XVI. He who loves truth loves Christ and suffers for it on earth.
Eternal life, he said in 2008, will be like “immersing yourself in the ocean of infinite love where time – a before and an after – no longer exists. Fullness of life and joy: this is what we hope for and expect from our being with Christ.”
Pope Benedict XVI, rest in peace, in joy, and in the fullness of love. I pray one day I will meet you in heaven and kiss your Christ-like face.
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