“To the weak I became weak, that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some. I do it all for the sake of the gospel, so that I may share in it. Don’t you know that in a race all runners run, but one takes the prize? So run, so that you may obtain it. Everyone competing exercises self-control in all things; they do it to in order to win a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable.”

                        —Paul, 1^st Letter to the Corinthians 9.22-25

The past week has been a testament to the common and tragic human struggle. On the one hand, we witnessed the death of a severely brain-damaged woman, Terri Schiavo, whose dream of having children or any kind of “normal” life whatsoever, had been shattered by her collapse 15 years ago. Somehow she stayed alive all these years, while harming absolutely no one (which is more than can be said for almost all of us “highly functioning” folks). She ran the race without ever leaving her bed and finally died by starvation—a mercy-killing in accordance with her wishes or a murder, depending on your viewpoint. Her helpless vulnerability combined with her quiet dignity will be difficult to forget. At the same time, halfway around the world, Pope John Paul II was valiantly struggling through his final days with comparable dignity, despite intensive media coverage. Regardless of one’s religious background, no one can dispute that the pope showed the strength of ten juiced professional athletes with his recovery from a gunshot wound, relentless work and travel schedule, and battle with Parkinson’s.

Two things have stood out in the various interviews of people who had the privilege to come in contact with this pope: his love for young people and his tremendous influence over politics. As the leader of a church rocked by horrible revelations of child abuse, John Paul II found a way to reach out to youths worldwide and to create a bond of trust and affection with them that will remain with them for the rest of their lives. As a child, I saw Pope Paul VI in an audience in St. Peter’s Square in 1975, and believe me, he was certainly not as warm and charismatic.

As Supreme Pontiff (Pontifex Maximus in the official church language, Latin), John Paul II built bridges to other political leaders and religious communities in an unprecedented way. This title fit him beautifully since it originally was given in early Rome soon after its foundation in 753 BCE to a man designated as chief priest, most likely with some connection to bridge (ponti/pons) building (fex/facio); the title and role later became one attached to the Roman emperors, and finally in the 4^th century CE, to the Bishop of Rome with the increasing christianization of the empire. John Paul II metaphorically fulfilled this task of bridge-building like no other pope in history.

He met with U.S. Presidents, starting with Jimmy Carter, and their advisors attest that the pope humbled these most powerful men on earth with his moral authority. His support for the Solidarity movement in Poland helped topple Eastern European communism through non-violent means. Yes, the maneuvers and threats of the U.S. and its allies also came into play, but for the wall to come down without an army invading was a great moment in history. One commentator on the TV this morning reminded viewers that the West “was exhausted” when John Paul II became pope in the late 70s, and he vigorously set the tone for improvements in social justice throughout the world (though he did at the same time ironically clamp down on the liberation theologians).

John Paul II was the first pope to visit a mosque and also the first to enter a synagogue (since Peter, because he was Jewish, and perhaps other first-century bishops of Rome). When he visited Israel in 2000, he asked forgiveness for sins committed against Christianity’s “elder brothers,” the Jews, which truly impressed Israelis I spoke with there at the time, who also had heard of his heroic efforts to help save Jews in Poland during World War II. In his book Crossing the Threshold of Hope (1994), he connects the devastation of the “extermination of the Jews” [p. 150, his emphasis] with the Second Vatican Council call for ecumenism, and he explains: “In the Catholic Church it is significant that dialogue with the Jews takes place in the Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity, which is also concerned with the dialogue among the various Christian communities.” This pope sought to make peace through standing strong and building bridges.

An ancient Roman, were he transported to our world today, would immediately recognize the religious and political power that John Paul II has wielded, since those living in the first century BCE saw Julius Caesar himself perform various important duties for the Roman state as Pontifex Maximus. For instance, as Supreme Pontiff, Caesar reformed the calendar, which a much later Pontifex Maximus, Pope Gregory XIII, again adjusted in the sixteenth century (see http://www.geocities.com/calendopaedia/gregory.htm for fun facts on the Gregorian Calendar), and it is now the dominant one in use globally. [On his trip to the future the typical ancient Roman of Caesar’s day also would find the new movie “Sin City” very much to his liking—full of blood and sacrifice—a veritable feast for the eyes—but so bloody that it makes it hard to eat popcorn, as with “The Passion of the Christ.” But the Roman would have no clue what popcorn is.]

This week the human family lost a daughter/sister/wife and a spiritual father—two remarkable athletes. They ran the race well, and both surely have won the “wreath.”