Remembering, and Loving, JPII

Today is the third anniversary of the death -- or birth into eternal life, really -- of Servant of God John Paul II. I was reminded of the date when skimming some Catholic blogs, and was particularly heartened by a friend reminiscing about when he met the Pope. We were blessed to see him two times.

The first was about a month after we'd been married to get our marriage blessed. It was a HUGE day for him, as it was the 25th anniversary of his pontificate; he announced the new Luminous Mysteries of the rosary to a crowd of 30,000 people.

Some of you might remember the now-notorious story of me disregarding our instructions to be blessed from afar. I rushed the papal throne -- as poor Dear Husband got snagged by a strong-armed bishop -- and knelt down to kiss his hand. In perfect retribution for my rash act, the photos came back with my bra strap hanging down to my elbow. I almost cried in fury, but learned a great lesson.

John Paul II, though a a phenomenal religious leader, holy man and the vicar of Christ, is still a person. And as he wrote in the Theology of the Body the only proper response to another person is love (willing that person's authentic good). It is not to use that person, or treat him like an object, or seek only your intentions with him. Yes, in a way I had forgotten the Pope was a person that day: an old, tired, frail man who could not have crazy ladies throwing themselves at his feet, no matter the demonstration of love intended.

My rash act also prevented my beloved DH from getting anywhere near the Pope and experiencing him for himself. Somehow, I think he was able to shout out, "We love you, Papa! Thank you!"

So, the second time I met him I was determined to chill out, for all of our sakes. We were invited to a private Mass that he celebrated with about 20 other people, and then we all had a chance to be introduced to and greet him afterward. I love this photo of us with him for obvious reasons, but particularly because you can see by our physical posture how docile we were -- hands relaxed, palms up, frozen in that moment and never wanting it to end.

Having him touch us and bless us was about as close as we'll ever get to having Christ physically present to us in human form. It was the best I can imagine how it would be to have Jesus look at you, and behold you, and love you, even for a second. It was a blessing beyond words.