Friday of the Seventh Week of Easter

Lectionary: 301

After Jesus had revealed himself to his disciples and eaten breakfast with them,
he said to Simon Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?”
Simon Peter answered him, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”
Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.”


On this day, one hundred years ago, Giovanni Battista Enrico Antonio Maria Montini was ordained to the priesthood. Well connected by family and patrons, and extraordinarily talented, he advanced in the elite world of Rome and the Vatican. If the skuttlebutt I heard is correct, the papal conclave of 1958 chose the elderly Angelo Roncalli with the expectation he would not live long. Monsignor Montini would join the college of cardinals, and become John XXIII's successor. Montini was elected on June 3, 1963 and took the "throne name," Paul VI, in honor of Saint Paul.
By a happy coincidence, today's gospel concerning a private conversation between the Risen Lord and Saint Peter, befits the optional memorial of a pope. A pastor's first qualification must be his unqualified love of God. 
Pope Paul VI did not have the public charm of his predecessor or his successor, John Paul II. But he had vision, experience of the Vatican's byzantine ways, and the political skills to promote the Second Vatican Council's agenda. He is rightly honored as a saint for the reforms that were long overdue. Few of today's children can imagine the ornate vestments and elaborate ceremonies this pope dismissed. 
In the United States, and perhaps much of the world, Pope Paul VI is most often remembered for the controversial encyclical, Humanae Vitae, in which he reiterated the Church's traditional teaching opposing artificial means of birth control. 
Another millennium may pass before humankind admires his courage and insight. A world dominated by the ideologies of personal liberty and capitalism, which habitually disrespects the sacred mystery of human reproduction, cannot appreciate the freedom which today's saint defended. It's ironic that they despise controlling persons, shun GMOs, and celebrate natural foods but press chemical means of birth control upon young women. 
Meanwhile, the human being is rapidly evolving as our bodies are accidentally invaded by manufactured chemicals and intentionally altered by alien implants. No one can imagine where this evolution will lead. Only an optimist with little understanding of Original Sin could suppose it's for the best. Dystopian prophecies abound; I know of few utopian expectations. 
As a chaplain in the Louisville VA hospital, I meet many Catholic men and women who have forgotten, or never knew, the beauty of marriage. Many were raised in violent, alcoholic homes. They have suffered the spiritual distress of chemical abuse and are enchanted with guns and white supremacy. The marriage of heaven and earth which is Jesus and his Church means nothing to them. 
I can only pray that the the Sacrament of the Sick, which I offer as if the VA were a field hospital, might inspire them to turn back to the Church and her teachings. Perhaps the Sign of the Cross, the laying of my hand on their heads, the anointing with oil on their foreheads and hands, and the Our Father will remind them of their sacred human bodies with its mysteries. 
Pope Paul VI had seen two world wars and several minor ones. He knew what "technological progress" could do to human bodies. He envisioned a world where human progress includes spiritual wellbeing, education and opportunity for the poor, and honor for the integrity of every person. Technological progress is nothing more than window dressing if it does not promote human dignity, prosperity and security for everyone, and peaceful ways to reconcile differences.