Such joy! The Pope has arrived. Can’t help myself! I have to cry!!!
I posted this status on Facebook when I saw on TV that the plane of Pope Francis had landed at Villamor Airbase.
And yes, I did cry. All of a sudden, I was caught by this huge wave of emotion that welled up from inside my chest, and ran me over with intense joy and gratitude, and what was that?… yes, a rush of great love and tender affection. My heart had to burst. The tears couldn’t be stopped.
Since then, I have been asking myself why this fierce emotional connection to a man who, in my impoverished spiritual state, is a mere distant figure in the life of this yo-yo Catholic mother?
St. John Paul II had my greatest respect. I grieved his death, and to myself, I referred to him as MY Pope. I thought I would never have another Pope after him. And indeed, Pope Benedict barely sparked any interest in this poor soul.
When Pope Francis was elected, I even briefly felt some sort of resentment, the thought crossing my mind that it should have been Cardinal Tagle; after all, he was said to have been one of those considered for the papacy.
But then, I saw that smile when the new Pope appeared in the balcony, and I felt the beginnings of some interest towards this new spiritual leader. And that would have been that, back to everyday life with Vatican barely getting a niche in this area of my life I have labeled as “interesting”.
But Pope Francis kept coming up before me, as an article here, or as a picture there, smiling pictures of him with doves perched on his fingers, or stories about how he came upon a sleepy guard one night and brought him a chair to sit on.
Who can ignore a man, much less a POPE, like this one? Soon my FB newsfeed became filled with every page featuring news and stories about Pope Francis.
I grew up viewing the Pope as this distant, holy figure, too revered to be approached by ordinary people like myself. Just like any leader, he was to be kept away from the masses for his safety. He was a very important person. He was to be protected. He was a leader. But too distant… yes, that’s the word. Distant.
And then, here came Pope Francis who refused to take the limousine on his ride back to his Papal quarters after his election as Pope. This Pope in white rode in the same shuttle bus he arrived in before he became the leader of 1.3 billion Catholics. He shunned gold and the usual trappings of the papacy. He did not have a car even as a cardinal, and walked or commuted around.
You’ll never see that here in the Philippines! Even our bishops have cars and personal drivers!
Pope Francis took selfies with young people. A little boy was allowed to play around him while he was giving an audience. He reminded me of Jesus when children crowded around him, and the disciples attempted to shoo them away. Jesus told them, “Let the children stay.” Pope Francis did, too. He showed great humanity and something else we have not seen for a long time — humility and simplicity.
I was hopelessly hooked. I fell in love. I hang on to his every word. I wanted to follow him like I have never wanted to follow anyone in my life as a Catholic before.
When news came that he was coming to the Philippines, I just had to go. I had to see him. Be in his presence somehow. My heart was bursting with this consuming desire to make the effort to be where he would be. I may see him or I may not. I left that into God’s holy will. But I had to go.
My trip to Manila became possible only when I found a like-hearted friend in the person of Maru Rodriguez, who also wanted to see the Pope as badly as I did.
But we both hesitated before that. Brave and independent women as we are, we acknowledged that we were not brave enough to walk the streets of Manila on our own. But discovering each other’s desire to be there was a God-send. We joined forces, and off to Manila we went with only half-baked plans of finding out where Pope Francis would be passing, and making sure we would be there.
When UST announced that some areas would be opened to the public, we decided that was where we should be. The gates were to be opened at 5 am on Sunday, Jan. 18. By 6 pm Saturday, people were already camped outside the gates of UST. Maru and I joined them by 10 pm. It was a long, long wait. We sat or lay down on the sidewalks. It drizzled a lot. We were cold. Mosquitoes had their feast. But we persevered. Nothing was going to take us away from that place.
There was a common denominator among all the people gathered there that night. Anticipation and determination. We were all going to see our beloved Pope. And that was that. No one and nothing was going to stop us!
We were able to enter the campus at around 5:30 am. The area was literally littered with human bodies in all positions, trying to catch whatever little sleep they could. I saw families with small children and elderly persons. I worried for them. They could easily get hurt if something untoward would happen.
By 6:30 am, people started moving towards the front, jostling for spots closest to the road where the Popemobile would be passing. The term “crush of humanity” took on a very real meaning for me. We were literally shoulder to shoulder, front to back of each other. But we did not seriously mind all of these. This was just a minor inconvenience.
We stood and waited this way for almost three hours. But for me, there was no pain. No exhaustion. My entire being was buoyed up by the anticipation of seeing his beloved face.
Make no mistake about this. I am in no way confused over Pope Francis’ role in my life. He cannot save me. Only Jesus can. But the Pope can show me the way. He is my guide towards Jesus. His faith, his humanity, his heart, and his love for the people especially the downtrodden, his humility, and his simplicity, his life, and how he lives it…they are examples of how I should live my faith, and my life as well. That is how I will be saved.
And then he came! Such deep, deep joy! I did not want to take pictures of him. That would take me away from him, and into that small screen that I would be trying to focus on him. I wanted to be in that moment. To be WITH HIM. See his face. See his smile. To be in the presence of his man who is the closest I could get to being with Jesus in this world.
I have not wanted anything with such fervor for so long in my life. But I wanted to be there, and I prayed for the grace to be given that chance.
And my prayers got answered. I did not want to ask for anything from Pope Francis. No favors. No requests. No special blessings. Just being in this presence was a blessing from God already.
I realize now that I could never find the words to express my profound joy. I guess it could never be done. It has to be felt. It has to be experienced.
So what now after that, some non-Catholics and even atheists asked? Have you all become better persons from all that?
“Not right away,” I would answer. Things don’t happen that way. They never do. But if one heart was touched the way mine was, and if one heart made the resolve to try to become a better person, and a better Christian by following the examples of Pope Francis, and if one life became a little better because of that change, then I would say that our Pope accomplished his mission.
That’s how we do it, my friends. One heart at a time. And believe me, Pope Francis will keep changing more hearts.
May God bless him and protect him always.
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Author’s email: olgaluciauy@yahoo.com
