John Paul's Triumphant Tour

For the U.S.: a message of spiritual leadership

Rarely if ever had the prospect of a foreigner's visit so stirred the country, but then the visit itself had no precedent. His Aer Lingus 747 was to touch down at Boston's Logan Airport--and then John Paul II would be the first Pope in history to tour the U.S. Huge throngs would gather at his every stop: some several hundred thousand were expected for Monday's Mass on Boston Common; as many as 5 million for his stops in New York City, which would include overflow audiences for Masses at Yankee and Shea stadiums; millions more in Chicago, Philadelphia, Washington and even Des Moines (pop. 194,000), where officials expected visitors from all over the West.

They were coming to see not just the head of the world's 710 million Roman Catholics but a man who during his first year as Pontiff has demonstrated that he is unlike any of his modern predecessors. Already this year John Paul has toured Mexico and his native Poland, hugging and blessing peasants, kissing babies and stirring vast outpourings of human emotion with folksy homilies. In his unique fashion, he is rapidly becoming parish priest to the world, and this mission could only be furthered by his U.S. visit. Said the Rev. James Finlay, president of Fordham University in New York City: "He is reaching beyond geographical, political and ecclesiastical boundaries to give the man in the street the feeling that he is there for him."

At each of John Paul's stops on this tour, local officials were hard pressed to cope with the intense public demand for a chance to see him. In Boston, authorities worried about paralyzing traffic jams and decided to ban automobiles on the city's major downtown thoroughfares.

Chicago planned to close virtually its entire Loop, about 80 square blocks, to incoming traffic while the Pope was in town. In the nation's capital, the 7,000 or so tickets issued by the White House for two presidential receptions in John Paul's honor were the most sought after invitations in years.

Catholics strained their superlatives, with reason, in assessing the significance of the visit. Said the Rev. John Finnegan, a theologian and pastor of Boston's St. Anne's Church: "The very fact that the Pope is coming to such an enormous welcome in the country, and that he will be received at the White House--well, it's something that could not have happened even a few short years ago. Remember, we are only 100 years or so away from 'Rum, Romanism and Rebellion' in our presidential campaigns." Said James Maher, a student at St. Joseph's Seminary in Yonkers, N.Y.: "This Pope is different from the others. Since he is not an Italian, I see him as an outsider--a breath of fresh air."

In heavily Catholic Boston, the Protestant Massachusetts Council of Churches and Jewish groups donated money to help the Catholic archdiocese pay for the visit. Among the gifts for John Paul: a matching silver ring and pectoral cross bearing the message UT UNAM SIMUS (that we may be one).

For John Paul, the tour was an opportunity to encourage American Catholics to tackle the social and religious problems that he considers most disturbing in Western society. Predicted a Vatican official on the eve of the trip: "The Pope is a born leader, and he will offer the American people the leadership for which they hunger."

During his speech on Tuesday at the U.N., the Pope was expected to chastise developed nations in the West for conspicuous overconsumption and for not providing more help to poor nations. Vatican officials suggested that the Pope might also speak out against dictatorships of the right and the left and condemn both the West and the Soviet Union for selling weapons to Third World countries.

In private meetings with U.S. Catholics, and especially during his session with the American Bishops' Conference in Chicago on Friday, the Pope intended to raise another of his major continuing concerns: the shortage of young men seeking to become priests. Aides said that he would make it clear, however, that he opposes trying to entice applicants by relaxing any traditional rules of the priesthood. In particular, he will not yield on the issue of celibacy.

At a Mass on the Washington Mall on his last Sunday in the U.S., John Paul is expected to express his profound concern about the disintegration of family life everywhere, especially in the U.S. He is disturbed about the prevalence of divorce and the ease with which Catholics can obtain annulments from American church authorities. He is distressed by the widespread use of artificial birth control among U.S. Catholics, and he regards abortion as a violation of human rights.

In raising these sensitive issues, John Paul faces the delicate problem of projecting an image of clarity and certainty, and at the same time not offending those Catholics who disagree sharply with him. He still finds the American form of church dissent something of a puzzle. Explained a Vatican source: "In the Pope's native Poland, the church is a compact, tightly knit unit, holding together against the Marxist enemy. It is hard for him to understand those Americans who disagree publicly and loudly with church teaching, yet consider themselves good Catholics."

The Mass in Washington, with an estimated 1 million people praying with him, will provide a momentous end to the Pope's journey, which began last weekend when he left Rome aboard a specially equipped Aer Lingus jumbo jet bearing the name Naomh Padraig (Gaelic for Saint Patrick). Aboard the 747 were some 180 church officials and journalists and 16 stewardesses.

John Paul traveled in the upstairs lounge, which was furnished with a sofa, a table with four chairs, and a bed made up with Irish linen. On one bulkhead hung a wooden crucifix of Celtic design, a reminder of Ireland's role as an ancient and proud daughter of the church. A man with a hearty appetite, John Paul was offered a sumptuous menu that included fresh fruit, bacon and sausages, black-and-white pudding, cheese and biscuits, and tea or coffee.

As Naomh Padraig approached the Emerald Isle, the airliner was joined by an escort of jet fighters from the Irish air corps. Later, five air corps jets saluted the Pope by flying over Dublin's airport in a cross-shaped formation. President Patrick Hillery, Prime Minister Jack Lynch and senior Cabinet ministers were on hand to greet John Paul. In keeping with modern papal protocol, Prime Minister Lynch and his Catholic colleagues did not kiss the Pope's ring, but merely shook his hand and bowed.

To protect the Pope, the Irish government mounted the biggest security operation in the country's history, deploying most of its 10,000 police officers and 13,000-man army. More than half of Ireland's 3 million people saw the Pope in person, including more than a million and a quarter at the Mass he celebrated before a 200-ft. steel cross in Dublin's Phoenix Park. Addressing the largest gathering in Irish history, John Paul warned that "prosperity and affluence" tend to make people "more selfish in their demands.

Everybody wants full freedom in all areas of human behavior and new models of morality are being proposed in the name of would-be freedom." After the Mass, the Pope flew by helicopter to Drogheda, a small manufacturing town 30 miles north of Dublin. The town is part of the northern ecclesiastical province of Armagh, which includes Ulster. At Drogheda, he made an impassioned plea for an end to the violence that has long plagued Northern Ireland and appealed to Ulster's Protestants to "see in me a friend and a brother in Christ."

Even in its early stages, the journey was providing still more evidence that this Pope, with his obvious delight in people and lack of formality, would not be bound by custom and precedent. Once more, John Paul II was proving that he was exactly as his aide described him: a born leader.

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