God’s Smile

THE CENTENARY of the birth of Albino Luciani, better known as Pope John Paul I, will be remembered next month. Needless to say, the event is being marked by a spate of initiatives in Italy and abroad.

Albino Luciani was born a frail, delicate child into a family of labourers on October 17, 1912, at Forno di Canale, a mountain village in Northern Italy. To everyone’s surprise he ascended the Throne of Peter on 26 August 1978, at the age of 65. His tenure as Pope, however, was to be a very brief one, dying suddenly and unexpectedly after a mere 33 days under circumstances that has fired the imagination of many writers and fuelled endless conspiracy theories.

In those 33 days John Paul I managed to leave a lasting impression on humanity because of his innate gentleness, humility, and engaging smile that earned him the nickname of ‘The Smiling Pope’.

 

Marco Roncalli

 

Jean Guitton, the celebrated French Catholic philosopher, wrote that “The figure of John Paul I remains shrouded in mystery: when you are about to solve the enigma, it escapes you again”.

Because of the controversy and obscurity that still surrounds the figure of the ‘Smiling Pope’, I approached Marco Roncalli, a journalist and historian who, beyond doubt, is one of the most authoritative voices on the enigmatic pope. 53-year-old Roncalli is a grand-nephew of Pope John XXIII (Angelo Roncalli) and in 2006 completed an impressive 800-page biography on his famous relative.

Marco Roncalli has dedicated the last five years to researching Albino Luciani. He has consulted libraries around the world and interviewed those who knew and worked with the pontiff. A most valuable source of information turned out to be the Vatican archives, which included material that had hitherto been kept secret. Roncalli was able to access this material because of his esteemed reputation as a professional historian and because of his being related to Pope John XXIII. His findings have gone into a newly-released 750-page biography on Pope John Paul I, not yet translated into English.

The historian was happy to share his findings with the readers of this magazine.

 

Charismatic figure

 

Roncalli, do you agree with Jean Guitton that the figure of Albino Luciani remains shrouded in mystery?

No, not any more. Unfortunately, the Pope died in mysterious circumstances and this generated a great deal of fog around his figure, which has been unhelpful.

When I started working on him I came up against the singular fact that, despite being Pope for only 33 days, he has left an impression on people’s minds and hearts that endures to this day. I doubt this would have happened for other pontiffs in only 33 days. It is therefore necessary to unravel the secret behind his charisma, a power that obviously could not stem from his deeds as Pope, but only from his person.

 

Was it easy to unravel the mystery surrounding this pontiff?

No, on the contrary, it was quite difficult. One, because of the superfluous literature on Luciani and the unsubstantiated myths surrounding his death; secondly, because of his shy and reserved nature. However, my painstaking labours were rewarded because I was able to bring to light his inner beauty and powerful spirituality. Luciani was humble and simple, yet enlightened; a faithful servant of the Church and a staunch defender of her principles, yet mild and affectionate with everyone, especially the poor. As an ecclesiastic he was totally a man of the Gospel.

 

Boiled grass and roots

 

What was Luciani like as a child?

Luciani grew up in physically debilitating conditions that were to compromise his health in later life. He hardly ever saw his father, Giovanni, who was forced to emigrate to Argentina a year after his birth to provide for his family. Giovanni returned from 1915 to 1918 to participate in the war-effort, only to leave again after the war. Albino was therefore raised by Bortola Tancon, his devout Catholic mother, who brought her son up in the faith. “My mother was my first catechism teacher”,  Luciani used to say.

The years of the First World War were particularly harsh for the Lucianis. Edoardo, the Pope’s brother, said, “We only ate boiled grass and roots… every now and then we had the privilege of a chunk of bread mixed with saw-dust…” Luciani himself revealed that he had to spend time at a sanatorium, and that he had been in and out of hospital eight times. During his youth he was, in fact, operated upon four times.

 

What sort of schoolboy was he?

He was a good student, and the parish priest and other teachers encouraged him by lending him a number of books. He had a gift for writing. There is a prayer he penned in 4th class which already reveals his distinctively clear, down-to-earth style: Oh Lord, You who know everything and who can do all things, help me to live. I am still a boy; I am not learned; I am poor, but I desire to know you. At the moment I do not know who you are, and I do not know if I love you, but I like praying Our Father and Hail Mary; I pray for my dear departed and for my loved ones. Please help me to understand… I am, yours, Albino. Amen.

 

A slight whisper

 

When did he decide to become a priest?

Luciani’s vocation blossomed spontaneously when he was still a child. It seems that he initially wanted to become a Franciscan friar or a Jesuit. The parish priest, however, directed him to the seminary, where it was possible to monitor his progress and, if signs of a real vocation emerged, to direct him to the priesthood proper.

At the age of 11 Luciani entered the diocesan seminary at Feltre, a nearby town. Later, as bishop, Luciani was to write, “Whenever we human beings call each other, that call is heard loud and clear… But when God calls us it is different; we have no written document, nor any other clear indication except for a slight whisper, nothing but a barely perceptible touch that caresses the soul”.

 

Was he only interested in religion or did he appreciate other subjects as well?

Even during his years as a seminary student Luciani was always striving to keep abreast of events in the real world. He was like a sponge which absorbed everything from the newspapers and from people. He was an avid reader, and not only of religious books, but of all types of literature, even of books unavailable at the seminary because they were regarded as unedifying. So during his high school years he read everything from Carlo Collodi to Jules Verne, Sir Walter Scott, Mark Twain, Charles Dickens, Fyodor Dostoyevsky…

During the summer vacation he organised his hometown parish library, compiling the cards of over 1,200 books.

 

St. Leopold Mandic

 

The breadth of his learning was therefore quite amazing…

Absolutely. And yet this boundless thirst for wisdom eventually led him to a faith crisis that jeopardised his vocation.

He was able to overcome the crisis thanks to St. Leopold Mandic, the Apostle of Confession, the diminutive Capuchin friar who was at Luciani’s seminary at that time to confess the aspiring priests. Fr. Mandic became a beacon of light for the young seminarian, and for the rest of his life Luciani always kept a photo of Fr. Mandic in his wallet, next to that of his mother.

However, the young man was not only an avid reader, but was also very much into films, art and journalism. He loved to write and was editor of a small magazine.

 

When was he ordained?

He was ordained at the age of 23, and then worked as auxiliary priest in a parish for two years, where he found great joy in ministering to ordinary people. He then returned to the seminary, this time as a teacher and vice-director, and stayed there for a further ten years – from 1937 to 1947. These are the years before and after the Second World War, years of great hardship, which did not, however, prevent him from obtaining a degree Summa Cum Laude in Theology at the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome.

In 1947 the time finally came for him to take on a more active role in the affairs of the Church, but this coincided with a new health crisis, during which Luciani had to spend time at a sanatorium. His superiors, however, continued to have great faith in him, and he was promoted assistant vicar of the diocese of Vittorio Veneto, then vicar general, and finally, bishop of that northern Italian city in 1958.

His motto as bishop was Humilitas, which he explained in this way: “I am but dust, pure and simple; and on this dust the Lord has inscribed the Episcopal dignity of the renowned diocese of Vittorio Veneto”. He never held himself in great esteem, and wrote, “Some bishops are like eagles, circling high-up with the documents of the Magisterium; I belong to the category of poor little wrens squeaking on the lowest branches of the Church”.

 

Mental conversion

 

When Vatican II opened in 1962, Luciani was already a bishop. How did he react to the events of the Council?

With great enthusiasm and participation, but as a spectator. He described the Council as an “extraordinary match” in which “over 2,000 bishops” are playing, and with the Pope as a “referee”. He wrote that the Council had obliged him to “become a student again” and to a “mental conversion”. The Council inspired in him a new spirit of initiative.

 

In what way?

It is impossible to pigeon hole Luciani as either a progressive or a conservative. He was, in fact, neither. He was firm in terms of doctrine and principles. But also full of empathy for the weakness of the human condition, and he was always close to the day-to-day problems faced by all human beings. For instance, the mass migration of people of other faiths was already being felt in Italy during the years of the Council. Bishop Luciani wrote, “Some bishops are alarmed because there are 4,000 Muslims in Rome: should they be given the right to build their own mosque? There is no doubt about it: we should allow them to build their own mosque”.

This openness, however, did not prevent him from been rigorous in terms of doctrine and discipline. He always reaffirmed the incompatibility between Christianity and Marxism, and he always condemned those who strove to transform the innovations introduced by Vatican II as “arms with which to introduce disobedience and to legitimise all the ‘weird things’ that pass through people’s heads”. He was always contrary to dissenting Catholic movements. When he was Patriarch of Venice he dissolved a Catholic organisation which was in favour of divorce.

 

Conspiracy theories

 

If Pope John Paul I had not died so prematurely what changes do you think he would have brought into the Church?

When Luciani was elected Pope his first words to the cardinals were: “What have you done? May God forgive you”. He was then asked the name by which he wished to be called, and he chose the name of his two predecessors, John XXIII and Paul VI, saying, “My name will be Giampaolo I”. The cardinals however, called his attention to the fact that the name was too familiar for a pope, and so it was slightly altered into the more solemn: Giovanni Paolo I.

He was the first Pope to address the faithful from the terrace of St. Peter’s Basilica immediately after his election; he refused the coronation ceremony and the papal tiara, just like Pope Paul VI had done, as well as the gestatorial chair.

In his various discourses as Pope he always stressed the essence of the Gospel message with its emphasis on poverty and, as a firm believer in Pope Paul VI’s encyclical Populorum Progressio, on the right use of capital.

He wanted to bring the Church closer to the faithful and, to speak more spontaneously to the crowds, he often laid aside his pre-written discourses, which alarmed some within the Curia.

Those 33 days on the Throne of Peter permanently changed the way the popes relate to the faithful.

 

What is your opinion on the Pope’s death?

From the documents I was able to peruse, I am absolutely certain that Albino Luciani died of natural causes. However, because of the sudden and unexpected nature of the event, some people may have been vague about the circumstances of his death. For instance, the first person who realised that the Pope was dead was the nun who always brought him coffee in the morning. In other words it was a woman who first realised that the Pope was dead, and in those days many people would have perceived this as inappropriate. The consequent vagueness of the details concerning the circumstances of his death only made things worse, and the lack of clarity that was thus evoked proved a breeding ground for all sorts of conspiracy theories.

 

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John Paul I is on track for canonisation. The first phase of the beatification process, the diocesan one, began in 2003 and was concluded in 2006. The second phase, which continues in the Vatican, is soon to be concluded, and already some in the Vatican are saying that Luciani may be beatified in the course of 2013, together with Pope Paul VI, during the celebrations for the 50th anniversary of the Second Vatican Council.