To Our Readers

By ELIZABETH VALK LONG President

Indisputably a newsmaker, Pope John Paul II can be a reluctant man in the news. It tells you something that he admires Pius IX, the 19th century Pope who withdrew into his palace after Italy seized from the Vatican both Rome and the papal states. Reclusive is no word for John Paul, but the widely traveled figure whom TIME has made Man of the Year is still deeply and deliberately private. Meaning someone who almost never grants on-the-record interviews. Meaning, journalistically, a tough nut to crack.

On the morning of Dec. 7 in Rome, a group of TIME editors and correspondents confronted that challenge firsthand. They were glumly assembled in expectation of a papal audience they would share with roughly 7,000 others. Days earlier, Vatican spokesman Joaquin Navarro-Valls had reluctantly informed Paris bureau chief Thomas Sancton that His Holiness would decline TIME's request for a private meeting. While pleased to be chosen as Man of the Year, John Paul didn't wish to appear to have collaborated on the project. The Time team could have front-row seats at one of the Pope's massive general audiences. From there they might have, Navarro hoped, "a chance to greet him and say a few words."

A few words, even from a man whose words have global authority, was hardly what the TIME journalists had in mind. Nevertheless, executive editor Jim Kelly, chief of correspondents Joelle Attinger and Sancton, who had all been attending a London meeting of TIME's foreign correspondents, flew to Rome. There they joined TIME reporter Greg Burke and former Rome bureau chief Wilton Wynn, a veteran of Vatican coverage and a consultant for this project.

Once at the audience, TIME's delegation discovered that their seats were not in the front after all but off to the side. The Pope arrived on the marble stage to rapturous applause. Seated on a wooden throne, he read out a statement on obedience in eight languages -- including Japanese -- took greetings from international delegations, pronounced a papal blessing and departed. The 90-minute audience was nearly over. And so, it seemed, was any hope of a closer encounter.

But suddenly at their side was Navarro, whispering the long-awaited words: "The Holy Father is going to see you privately." Ushered into a reception room, TIME's visitors soon saw a smiling but slightly stooped John Paul, who entered leaning on the wooden cane made necessary by his recent bone- replacement surgery. He looked otherwise pink-cheeked and robust. Of his mind, there was no doubt. To their congratulations for being chosen Man of the Year, John Paul expressed thanks, then added, mischievously, "I see that in the past, you have given this honor to Lech Walesa and to Pope John XXIII -- but also to Stalin and Hitler!" Sancton, a bit nonplussed, explained, "Holy Father, you must understand that we have a good list and a bad list. You are on the good list." Gratified but still playful, the Pontiff replied, "I hope I always remain on the good list."

Then there were more serious matters. On Bosnia: "There must be a stop to this unreasonable struggle, which destroys the welfare of all parties -- the Croatians, the Muslims, the Serbs." He added, "It is a complex situation. Sometimes it is necessary to wait for a change of hearts." Asked about his upcoming trip to the U.S., John Paul offered a cheerful "God bless America!" -- and a caution: "Americans live up here ((holding his hand at eye level)); much of the rest of the world is down here ((plunging his hand toward his waist))."

"In only 15 minutes, we glimpsed many facets of this extraordinary man," says Attinger. "His humanity, mental vigor, piety, wit and personal charm. The power of this papacy is clearly rooted in the man, not the trappings of office." What Kelly found most striking about John Paul was "his charming stubbornness. Surrounded by people ushering him about, he clearly wanted to do things his way, which included making time for us."

In New York senior editor Howard Chua-Eoan worked with assistant editors Ratu Kamlani and Susanne Washburn to help sum up this complex man. After reviewing the work of many photographers, deputy photo editor Hillary Raskin chose Gianni Giansanti, who has covered the Pope for years. Says Raskin: "His pictures radiate like the man himself." To dramatize John Paul's role as a link in the long chain of church history, Time commissioned artists Nicholas Kahn and Richard Selesnick, who work in the fresco style, to illustrate his papacy in the manner of the early Renaissance. "Our first choice would have been Giotto," associate art director Sharon Okamoto says jokingly. "That not being possible, we were fortunate to find Kahn and Selesnick." We took the unusual step of printing their work as a multipage foldout. "It's meant to resemble a triptych," explains Okamoto, "a form symbolic of religious art."

In preparing these stories, TIME also talked to dozens of religious leaders of all faiths, including the Dalai Lama and the Rev. Billy Graham, asking them to assess the importance of John Paul. Perhaps the most heartfelt reply came from Mother Teresa, who sent us a poem that seemed a fitting testament to John Paul's power to move the spirit. She described him as:

Ever sustained by a profound Faith,

Nourished by unceasing prayer,

Fearless in unshakable Hope,

Deeply in Love with God.