A Papal Best Seller -- and One That Wasn't
By: Paul Elie
November 4, 1994
New York Times, November 4, 1994
Last month Alfred A. Knopf published Pope John Paul II's "Crossing the Threshold of Hope," a question-and-answer book for which it paid nearly $9 million and which soon showed up on the best-seller list. The huge sum has made the book's commercial fate the latest measure of the Pope's popularity, and that of his papacy -- a state of affairs that sends disquieting signals about the Roman Catholic Church today.
Last month Alfred A. Knopf published Pope John Paul II's "Crossing the Threshold of Hope," a question-and-answer book for which it paid nearly $9 million and which soon showed up on the best-seller list. The huge sum has made the book's commercial fate the latest measure of the Pope's popularity, and that of his papacy -- a state of affairs that sends disquieting signals about the Roman Catholic Church today.
Even as polls of American Catholics show deep dissent from his positions—a 1992 poll, for example, showed that 67 percent favor opening the priesthood to women—John Paul II remains hugely popular. Why? Various explanations have been offered. He is charismatic, and a master of the world tour and the vast open-air Mass. In a culture of mendacious politicians and instant celebrities, he is appealingly countercultural: this world leader is no floating waffle. And many people believe his worldview is the true one.
But arguably the key reason for John Paul's stature is structural. He is as prominent as he is because of changes in the church. Thirty years after the Second Vatican Council affirmed the basic equality of all the church's members, the papal office is more powerful than ever while the foundations of the church have weakened. The priesthood is shrinking. Religious orders are in decline, and the parochial school system with them. And traditional Catholic social and ethnic associations have steadily lost members.
True, new groups—whether anti-abortion coalitions, associations of gay Catholics or contemplative prayer groups—have emerged in the church. But they lack the influence of their predecessors. A distinctively American church has emerged as well, embodied most visibly in the National Conference of Catholic Bishops, which makes policy recommendations about religious and national issues—war and peace, the economy, the role of women. The conference's focus on policy often alienates it from the concerns of ordinary Catholics, though, and drains resources from local problems.
Efforts to bring church members into the policy-making process have also been frowned upon. A few years ago, soon after Archbishop Rembert G. Weakland of Milwaukee called a meeting to hear Catholic women's views on abortion, the Vatican blocked an honorary degree given to him by a Catholic university. And in Rome last week, a synod of bishops on religious orders made clear that nuns would continue to have a limited role in Vatican affairs.
Set free by Vatican II to make their own way in the world, Catholics today are Catholic everywhere and nowhere. There is a lack of local institutions where they can identify themselves as Catholics, and fewer priests, teachers and politicians who represent the church in public life. There is a lot of empty space between home and Rome, and more and more, over the 16 years of his papacy, this space has been filled by John Paul II.
The Pope, of course, is strong by definition, the top of a formidable hierarchy. But today the church is united as much by communication as by organization. American Catholics learn as much about their faith through newspapers, books and television as through liturgy and parish life.
And as they follow the reports of the church's doings, Catholics aren't just keeping abreast of things; this is how they participate in church life. Why has the church tolerated pedophiliac priests? Was John Paul insensitive to anti-Semitism in giving an award to Kurt Waldheim in spite of his past Nazi ties? Are his world tours crass public spectacles or communal celebrations? Answering these questions has become a basic way for Catholics to affirm their faith, as vital as receiving the sacraments and doing good works.
It's hard to say whether John Paul has just responded to this new dynamic or whether he has created it. Previous popes also used mass communication with great skill. But John Paul is Pope at a time when communication is identified with the very substance of the faith. It is a measure of his shrewdness that as his health has declined, making travel difficult, he has spread his message in print, first in the church's new Catechism and now in "Crossing the Threshold of Hope."
As John F. Kennedy is remembered as the first television President, so John Paul II will be remembered as the first media Pope. But is communication enough? Can it fill the gap between the parish church and St. Peter's? Those are questions the next Pope will have to answer -- in the papers, on TV and perhaps in another best seller.
This article originally appeared in the New York Times.
But arguably the key reason for John Paul's stature is structural. He is as prominent as he is because of changes in the church. Thirty years after the Second Vatican Council affirmed the basic equality of all the church's members, the papal office is more powerful than ever while the foundations of the church have weakened. The priesthood is shrinking. Religious orders are in decline, and the parochial school system with them. And traditional Catholic social and ethnic associations have steadily lost members.
True, new groups—whether anti-abortion coalitions, associations of gay Catholics or contemplative prayer groups—have emerged in the church. But they lack the influence of their predecessors. A distinctively American church has emerged as well, embodied most visibly in the National Conference of Catholic Bishops, which makes policy recommendations about religious and national issues—war and peace, the economy, the role of women. The conference's focus on policy often alienates it from the concerns of ordinary Catholics, though, and drains resources from local problems.
Efforts to bring church members into the policy-making process have also been frowned upon. A few years ago, soon after Archbishop Rembert G. Weakland of Milwaukee called a meeting to hear Catholic women's views on abortion, the Vatican blocked an honorary degree given to him by a Catholic university. And in Rome last week, a synod of bishops on religious orders made clear that nuns would continue to have a limited role in Vatican affairs.
Set free by Vatican II to make their own way in the world, Catholics today are Catholic everywhere and nowhere. There is a lack of local institutions where they can identify themselves as Catholics, and fewer priests, teachers and politicians who represent the church in public life. There is a lot of empty space between home and Rome, and more and more, over the 16 years of his papacy, this space has been filled by John Paul II.
The Pope, of course, is strong by definition, the top of a formidable hierarchy. But today the church is united as much by communication as by organization. American Catholics learn as much about their faith through newspapers, books and television as through liturgy and parish life.
And as they follow the reports of the church's doings, Catholics aren't just keeping abreast of things; this is how they participate in church life. Why has the church tolerated pedophiliac priests? Was John Paul insensitive to anti-Semitism in giving an award to Kurt Waldheim in spite of his past Nazi ties? Are his world tours crass public spectacles or communal celebrations? Answering these questions has become a basic way for Catholics to affirm their faith, as vital as receiving the sacraments and doing good works.
It's hard to say whether John Paul has just responded to this new dynamic or whether he has created it. Previous popes also used mass communication with great skill. But John Paul is Pope at a time when communication is identified with the very substance of the faith. It is a measure of his shrewdness that as his health has declined, making travel difficult, he has spread his message in print, first in the church's new Catechism and now in "Crossing the Threshold of Hope."
As John F. Kennedy is remembered as the first television President, so John Paul II will be remembered as the first media Pope. But is communication enough? Can it fill the gap between the parish church and St. Peter's? Those are questions the next Pope will have to answer -- in the papers, on TV and perhaps in another best seller.
This article originally appeared in the New York Times.
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