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Several years ago, our pope who has just gone to heaven, John Paul II, was at a lunch with a group of bishops from over the world, a small lunch with a small group of bishops. And when the soup was brought in, one of the bishops said he got his courage together, and this is not apocryphal, this is an accurate story, and “I leaned forward to where the pope was sitting, down the table, and I said, ‘Your holiness, would you share with us a prognosis about the future of vocations to the priesthood in the Church?’” And the pope did not respond. He either did not hear it or he chose to wait. And at the end of the lunch, when the coffee came, the bishop asked again, a little more loudly, “Your holiness, what do you think about the future of vocations to the priesthood in the Church?” The pope put down his coffee and he did this three times. (Hit his hand solidly upon the table.) He didn’t rattle the cutlery but he was firm. He said, “Deus providavit. Deus providavit. Deus providavit.” That’s Latin for “God will provide. God will provide. God will provide.” And that, to me, is the pope in a nutshell. Intransigent faith, loyal to tradition, and incredibly filled with hope. “God will provide.”

Now, there’s an atheist who lives in a small uptown in the state of New York. He announced in 1960, “I’m an atheist,” and he calls regularly, once a month, still announcing, protesting perhaps a tad too much, “I’m an atheist.” Everytime we had a new pope, he would say, “Your pope stands for something.” He said it Friday. “Your pope stands for something.” He always uses the present tense. Two days ago, he said, “This culture is a compost heap. But your pope has always stood for something, something we can honor.” Well, our pope didn’t stand anyplace for long. Did he? The most traveled pope in two thousand years.

And, when I hung up the phone on the self-styled atheist, I began to think at my age of the popes under whom I have lived, starting with Pope Pius XII. I see images, like movies, images of these popes, but actual scenes from their lives. Pius XII, I remember as a kid in a newsreel in the movies seeing Pius XII, long, lean Pius XII, who looked like something by El Greco, on a particularly stark day. Wonderfully ascetic, intelligent face and shaking the hands of young American soldiers, long lines of young American soldiers at the end of World War II. And the look on the faces of those American boys, stunned with awe and reverence. Surely they weren’t all Catholics.

And then the next pope, John XXIII... I remember I was in the seminary then. They had the pictures of previous popes and the new pope on the bulletin board. We had a classmate, in 1958, who looked then, and looks now, like Robert Redford, and he stood there, our leader. He was class president. And he pointed to Pius XII (It was Life Magazine). Some of you remember Pius XII, lean, disciplined, brilliant, and then there was a picture of John XXIII, crumpled in this big chair, very overweight, very old, and looking like a marvelously affectionate Italian grandfather who had had a lot of pasta and was taking a nap. And “Robert Redford” pointed to the past pope, Pius XII, and said, “Oh, to go from this” and then to John XXIII, “...to this!” Well, John XXIII had a few surprises in store for all of us.

And, after him, Paul VI, who has been called (evidently with some accuracy) the “Hamlet Pope.” In so many of his photographs, he looked like Hamlet with a migraine. He was so tormented, a very sensible, sensitive nature, evidently, and unwilling to make decisions lest it hurt anybody or break a past teaching or tradition. I think he must have suffered a lot, Pope Paul VI. And then, after him, John Paul I who only lasted a month. I can barely visualize his face.

And then finally our own pope, who has just gone to heaven. And I can say that without embarrassment in front of a group of Catholics, who believe in the afterlife. If anyone has gone directly to the Lord, it would be he. And the picture I think of is that marvelous photo where he went to the jail to meet the guy who tried to kill him, who tried to assassinate him. And this particular picture, the Pope did not know was going to be taken. But he is sitting in the jail, John Paul II who just died, and he is embracing this man who tried to murder him. And I thought, even then, “That’s our faith. That’s Christianity. That’s Christ.” Reconciliation, peace, a wonderful father figure in the best sense of the word, peace, you know, peace.

Anyhow, this atheist in Millbrook, New York, “Your pope stands for something.” Well, this pope hasn’t stood very long in any one place. He has traveled and traveled and traveled. He’s been all over the world and gone to so many places, so many exhausting trips, and met so many people, hungry to see him. His early life, you know, combat the Nazi’s, combat the Communists, practically brought down.... I know you hear all this on TV now... almost bringing down Eastern Communism almost alone, and then his frequent statements for life (And again that can become such a cliche!) against abortion, against the death penalty, against war.... And sometimes one thinks “Oh, that’s what a pope has to do. When this pope spoke about it, it was visceral! It was real with him, rooted in the words of Christ and the gospels. Life from the moment of conception to the end. Even some monster ... You want him murdered. No, no death penalty. No war. Dining at the table with Tony Blair... no, no war. And then sometimes I still hear from former students who say, “If only the Catholic Church weren’t so puritanical and prissy about sex and love.....” Well, for many years, the Pope came out on that little balcony, you know, in the Vatican at noon time, years ago when health was good, and gave talks about love, physical love and marriage, man and woman. Beautiful, poetic stuff, but rooted in the physical, as Christ was... the Incarnation, beautiful talks on love and marriage and sex.

And his apologies to Jews for what we Christians have done to them for so long. That’s not easy to do. He did it with a gracious panache, and he meant it. He has canonized so many people, it must be getting crowded up there. Not just nuns and monks and priests, but laity, you... pushing them all into paradise, canonizing left and right. So many people we don’t even realize, sitting right here, may be saints.

And finally, his unembarrassed, unapologetic devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary which in some parts of Christianity, as you know, is not fashionable. His devotion to our Lady was not childish, but child-like and real all his life.

Now, nobody here past the age of ten does not know that our own church has been riddled, rattled, over the past few decades with a lot of strife among us. Let me use stereotypical terms because of time. The liberal Catholics and the conservative Catholics, some of them at each others throats, while the rest of the world goes on yawning, yawning about our Lord, yawning about eternal life, yawning about the precious things we all share, the Eucharist, the Mass, the Gospel that we all share. And here we are slicing and sniping at each other. Maybe that is just my exaggerated vision, but it hurts and it seems such a waste of our energy. And the thing that sustains me, because even this pope has been criticized widely, and by me on several occasions. Why does he stress this so much? And why doesn’t he give some more encouragement to that?....

I got an image many years ago when I was a kid in college that helped me ever since, about our fights among ourselves and the history of the Roman Catholic Church, the leader of which has just gone to heaven. Chesterton was a British convert to Catholicism and he studied the history of the Church with acute intelligence, and he made this comparison: I know I’ve used it a few years ago, but it still helps me. The comparison of the Church.... He has a charioteer with a chariot (some of you have seen Ben Hur, at least one of the versions.) And the charioteer is on a cliff, this rather scary precipice, and to his left is the cliff edge with lots of projectiles and sharp, jagged rocks sticking out. And he has to be careful he doesn’t get too close to that because it will slice the flesh of the horse. To his right, the charioteer has to be careful because it is a sheer drop thousands of feet to the ocean below. So the charioteer has got to keep the horses a little to the left, a little to the right. But the chariot keeps going safely. It continues on the path because the charioteer is Christ. It’s Our Lord, not this pope, not that pope. It’s Christ, and the chariot is the Church. The chariot is you and I. For two thousand years, and so many historians ....McCauley, a British historian, brilliant, not too fond of the Church but at the end of his study of history, he says, “How does the Catholic Church do it?!”

By the way, I’ve just finished reading a book about the Borgias, the Borgia Pope. Oh, you don’t know how lucky we’ve been in our lifetime. We had over two hundred sixty popes, and six of them were such losers and clowns. They never went against any of the creed or any of the teachings of the Church. They were too busy with other things. But none of them went against our faith. But, boy, were they clowns and idiots! And the rest are honorable, decent, many saints. But the chariot is driven by Christ. It’s under his control.

A man in Wall Street banged on the door one night, just before I left and came (Thank you, God!) to California. Some executive with a real posh-looking brief case banged on the door. I had been hearing confessions. I was irritated, chrochety. It was about six at night, “I want to join your Church!” And I, instead of saying, “Well, welcome, dear man,” said, “WHY?” Your standard, genial clergy... He said “... because your Church has so many enemies who hate you, and I detest them so much, you must be doing something right!” He called yesterday, that same guy, from St. Peter’s near Wall Street, praying, and a good Catholic.

OK! “Deus providavit.” God will provide. He has. He is doing so now (the Lord) and he will continue to do so. Now, this is the end. This is a little footnote. It’s very short and I have to read it because I don’t want to get even one word wrong.

Several weeks ago (maybe two months ago), at a morning Mass here, a weekday Mass, I, Dibble, bet the people at Mass that morning (I don’t know how many... too many, I think now.) I bet each of them that the Pope, John Paul II, would last, continue reigning as Pope, until 2008 and I meant it. I thought the Pope had such tenacity of will and such incredible power and zest for life that he would last until 2008. So I bet everyone in the Church that day a buck. Well, I’ve lost the wager and I’m not certain Deus providavit me, so I can pay back the bet. Three people have already met me and it’s barely 8:30. “Where is my dollar?... Where’s..” So, there may soon be a special Sunday collection... If God won’t provide, then, as usual, for two thousand years, the laity will.