The Wonder of Wojtyla

Each year on the 22 ^nd of October, we celebrate the feast of our patron—St. John Paul II. We celebrate it as a solemnity that begins with adoration the previous night. And although we have adoration daily, this night is different.
 
It is the only day of the year we have night adoration. A single light illumines the monstrance which is flanked on either side by candelabras. We sit in darkness adoring Our Lord in the light. It is the same God who called John Paul II from the darkness who never ceases to call us as well.
 

 
Around this time last year, I heard a story about the young Karol Wojtyla and a Polish dessert— kremowkas. The  kremowka is two layers of puff pastry filled with whipped cream. It is no small dessert. As the legend goes, after finishing the  matura (an exam taken throughout Europe before applying to college), the future Pope went with a friend to a favorite bakery in the Wadowice Town Square and wagered who could eat more  kremowkas. Wojtyla would eat eighteen of them and still lose the bet.
 
There’s a popular saying we have when it comes to eating food in our seminary: “seconds are compliments, thirds are gross.” In other words, don’t eat too much. The phrase speaks to what it means to be virtuous. Something we struggle with as humans.
 
What, then, could be said of our patron on that day? Perhaps simply that he was, like us, human.
 
It is a striking image because Pope Saint John Paul II seems to be anything but human. We know him as Peter’s successor—a majestic figure, capable of drawing crowds by the millions. We know him as a mystic, capable of a union with God most will not experience in this life. And we know him as a singularly effective witness to the hope only Jesus Christ can give.
 
It’s easy to forget that he was human—that behind the face of a man who stared down communism was simply a man called by God to holiness.
 
His life was touched by difficulty—the death of his mother and father at a young age, the struggle of vocational discernment, living and ministering behind the Iron Curtain. These are not instances of majesty. These are distinctly human experiences.
 
This contrast between the majestic image of John Paul II as Pope and the challenging upbringing of Karol Wojtyla in Poland provokes wonder about a life with God. It is a wonder characterized by a desire to know, but it is more than mere curiosity and admiration. Curiosity is only asking questions. Wonder is a desire to experience. With admiration, there is no desire to do more than look on from a distance. But wonder draws us in.
 
There’s another saying we have here: “Enter in.” It speaks to a disposition of openness and receptivity—an absolutely necessary attitude in responding to God’s call. Pope St. John Paul II changed the world. And there is perhaps no greater impact for us than the power of his response to God’s call—the response of someone just like us—which provokes wonder in our hearts and draws us ever closer to God.

To read last week's post on feeling the joy of the saints--The Entertainment Apostolate--please click here. Posts are published every Tuesday.