Pope John among the French

My title may be misleading, since this book, Mission to France 1944-1945, edited by Don Loris Capeville and translated by Dorothy White, illustrates part of John’s life before he became Pope, when he was Papal Nuncio in Paris, with a very brief inclusion at the end of the book of some letters to and from John when he was Cardinal Patriarch of Venice.

The entire book is made up of a collection from his correspondence, with a few homilies thrown in – the intention being, plainly enough, to let these writings speak for themselves – and on the whole one may say the intention has been fulfilled. Even the formal and semiformal diplomatic exchanges do carry some nuances of John’s personality and spiritual intuitions. Whether the intention justified a book costing thirty-five shillings, beautifully turned out by the publishers, Geoffrey Chapman Ltd, typographically excellent, with many pages of photographs, is another matter.

If John were still alive amongst us, and someone made such a book and gave him a copy, he would probably have made one of his famous references to ‘my humble person’, deplored that it should have been written about him, courteously accepted it as a non-personal tribute to the dignity of the Holy See, and then forgotten about it. But of course he is not alive; he is alive in a new way, praying for us in Heaven at the feet of his crucified Master.

In his letter of November 2, 1947 – a letter of condolence to Monsieur Albert Lebrun, intermittently President of the French Republic, at the death of his wife – John wrote ‘The feast of All Souls brings melancholy thoughts to us all. But what a comfort it is to think that our dead, although invisible, are not absent; their eyes, full of joy, look into ours which are full of tears’.

It is on account of his death that every word he wrote, even formal diplomatic messages, will be sifted and published – we wish to preserve whatever bears a trace of him, to assist that union he spoke of, so that his eyes, full of joy, may often look into ours, so often full of tears, and his spirit of holy joy may communicate itself to us, his children. It is not strange in the least. John will no doubt soon be formally canonised; but this book, and books like it, are manifestations of the deep movement of filial love which rises in the heart of the Church Militant, under the influence of the Holy Spirit, to crown and adorn her Saints before the formal act of canonisation.

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In a sense the book may disappoint some readers. John’s diplomatic tact and brotherly affection are everywhere apparent in it; he is dealing in the main with commonplace matters; and moreover it is part of the skill of his spirituality to lead a truly hidden life and be in all matters an ordinary man. He speaks of himself, as he nearly always did in broad and general terms – one does not find the Augustinian lightning-flash that occurs from time to time in his private Journal, as when he saw his soul as a tarantula hiding in a cleft in the rock of God – what one finds rather is a clear picture of pastoral activity zealously and tirelessly performed in a spirit of great prudence and charity.

Very clear, however, to the believer who is drawn distinctly to the Marian road will be the sermon he preached at the dedication of a new church at Lourdes to St Pius X, on March 25, 1958:

She is always the same, dear and venerable brothers, always carrying out her motherly mandate to proclaim her son Jesus. It is Mary who offers herself, who listens, teaches, consoles, heals and encourages all who turn to her . . .

The truth is that, particularly in recent times, all the shrines of Mary, scattered throughout the world, have become, above all, centres of devotion to the Eucharist, as if the Mother of Jesus had appeared, here or there, in order to lead the faithful to the adoration of her blessed Son . . .

Devotion to the Eucharist, devotion and unruffled obedience to the Holy See; devotion to Mary – in these devotions lay the strength of John, and it is well to remember them in a turbulent age when many boundary stones seem to be shifted by earthquake or the hand of man. It is one of the marks of sanctity to be able to combine deep orthodoxy with a revolutionary spirit of charity – thus, at the time of his paschal death, John’s final words were a prayer to Our Lady which he had learnt in his seminary days: ‘Mater mea . . .’. We may follow confidently in his footprints.

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