editorial
The
True Revolutionary of Our Time
He dominates everything, drawing existence out of nothingness, And not only in
the beginning, but constantly.
John Paul II wrote these lines in Roman Triptych, his recent book of “meditations.” And
we dedicate them to him, on the twenty-fifth anniversary of his pontificate.
The Mystery “dominates everything, drawing existence out of nothingness.”
In the history of the world, and in the brief, dramatic history of the individual,
newness is given only by the action of the Mystery, who “constantly” generates
life. In his “Letter to the Fraternity” last June, Fr Giussani wrote
that “the ‘I’ must be continually exalted by a rebirth of reality,
by a re-creation which in the figure of Our Lady is moved by the Infinite.” Generation
is not only in order to give life to men and plants, to beasts and the entire
cosmos. The Mystery draws existence out of nothingness, entering it discreetly, “almost
like a whisper,” said Clemente Rebora; keeping it company, communicating
to it the sense of an infinite goodness greater than death.
In these years, in a convulsed and violent world, in front of confused men and
the dark perils of desperation, the Pope has been the advent of this difference.
His presence has not been a matter of words. His proposal has not been a wise
exhortation, an exercise in dialectics, or a strategy. No, he, in the physical
vigor of his early trips and now in the strength of his patience and his offering,
has been, and above all is, a presence, the sign of the Presence that, just as
it drew back to life the dead son of the widow of Nain, draws life out, tearing
it out of nothingness, every day.
The figure of John Paul II has been a striking one throughout these twenty-five
years, by his testimony of a positive affirmation of the infinite value of every
existence.
His humanity, even his very character, have let themselves be grasped so freely
and profoundly by the humanity of Christ that they have become a powerful clarion
call to Him. This is why his presence is viewed sympathetically by millions of
people, with a favor that makes the heart simple, even in the midst of the many
hardships of life.
The culture in which we live, the French philosopher, Finkielkraut, recalled
in Traces a few months ago, throws contemporary man into a terrible situation.
For we are prey to an ideology that denies the value of the present and life
as “given.” In the proposals made by the dominant mentality, every
possibility for fulfillment seems consigned to a fleeting future. Thus, the present
becomes only the locus of resentment, something that has to be escaped, for an
existence that thus becomes the reign of disguise and pretense. Unfortunately,
even Christian faith itself is too often understood and proposed as a variation
of certain ideologies or as a vague consolation.
In this situation, John Paul II did not set himself to making analyses or projects.
He lives and communicates his personal emotion at the Christian event, his personal
familiarity with Mary, the first portal through which the Mystery that dominates
everything was made flesh. And in this way, he continues to sustain man’s
hope. In the midst of so many intellectuals who claim to be avant-garde and of
so many prophets–even violent ones–of a better world, he emerges
as the true revolutionary of our time.