The Pope’s Christmas

March 26 2003 | by

THIS CHRISTMAS is the twenty-fourth that Pope John Paul II will spend in Italy. His first was in 1978, two months after his election as Pontiff of the universal Church. In all these years, the Pope has always wanted to celebrate the festivity while scrupulously respecting the customs of his native country Poland.

A Polish Christmas

All Polish people, wherever they are in the world, celebrate Christmas following ancient traditions which aim to reunite the family according to the spirit of the festival itself, which is a spirit of unity, love and reconciliation.
On the evening of Christmas Eve, all members of the family meet up at the house of their parents or of their elder brother, if their parents are deceased. In order to attend these family reunions, some Poles, especially those who live far away from their country, undertake very long journeys to return home and spend the Christmas holidays with their family.
When the first stars appear in the sky in the evening of Christmas Eve, the Poles begin to sing what they call the Wieczerza wigilijna. The head of the family reads an extract from the Gospel which recounts the birth of the Lord in Bethlehem, then he gives a short speech made up of family memories during which he commemorates deceased realtives and friends, and he expresses his wishes for a merry Christmas and a happy New Year to all those present. He then hands out oplatek, white bread in a rectangular shape which is especially prepared for Christmas Eve. He distributes it following a rite in which he breaks the bread just as Jesus did at the last supper, giving a piece to everyone present asking for forgiveness for any disagreements that might have happened that year and for any faults committed.
Once this ceremony is over, the entire family stands in front of the crèche or the Christmas tree they sing together: In the deep silence of the night, the voice can be heard: get up shepherds, because your Lord is born in Bethlehem. Then, everyone returns to the dining room, they each take a seat around the table and the Christmas Eve dinner begins, consisting of as many as twelve courses, all of which exclude meat out of respect for the old tradition which demands abstinence from meat on Christmas Eve.
During the dinner, ancient Polish Christmas chants called Koledy and Pastoralki are sung every now and then. At the end of the dinner, presents are given out, mostly to the children. Then everyone prepares to go to church. The Midnight Mass is the conclusion of a long ceremony which begins when the first stars appear in the sky.
No Pole ever breaks with this Christmas tradition. And nor has Karol Wojyla ever done so. The following of the ceremonies to which we have just referred, has always been respected by him, both when he was a young priest, a bishop, a cardinal and as the Pope.
Since living in Rome, he has the habit of inviting about twenty friends and Polish collaborators to his own apartment in the Vatican to ‘experience’ the traditions of the Wieczerza wigilijna with them every Christmas. He takes on the role of the head of the family, and thus he ‘presides’ over the ceremony: he reads the extract from the Gospel recounting the birth of Christ, he comments upon it, remembers deceased friends, gives his wishes of seasonal good will to those present, intones the chants, distributes the oplatek and he also asks forgiveness of those present who he considers his relatives. The meal lasts about and hour and a half and then the same amount of time is spent singing. Some people who have participated in these parties held at the papal residence have told me that, at times, the Pope sings these traditional chants by himself, as he is the only one who knows them. Later Karol Wotjyla invites the nuns of the Congregation of the Sacred Heart of Jesus who look after the residence to participate in these traditional festivities as they are also all Polish.
When the Pope then appears on television for the Midnight Mass which is broadcast worldwide, he is actually completing the last stage of this long and evocative ceremony which began at his residence many hours before.

A living prayer

This year too, Karol Wojtyla’s Christmas Eve will be spent in the same way. His speech, the chants, the prayers will no doubt reflect this difficult period, but will also be filled with the same intensity and depth of feeling as always. Old age, poor health, suffering and worries, especially in the last few years, have changed Karol Wojtyla’s life, but not to the extent that he neglects the ancient religious traditions of his country. The people who see him often say that he has become quieter and more reserved, but only because he has intensified the amount of time he devotes to prayer.
We could say that John Paul II has become a ‘living prayer’ says Msg. Pavel Hnilica, the Slovak bishop who has been a great friend of the Pope since Wojtyla was archbishop in Krakow. He makes the most of every free moment to pray. He prays when he moves from one place to another, in the lift, in the car, while walking. Once he used to enjoy talking with whoever he was with, but for some time now he prefers to pray. He feels the drama of the current world situation and he knows that prayer is the most powerful and efficient arm against the hate, selfishness and thirst for power which are often the motives behind conflict.
Karol Wojtyla has always been a man with deep faith in prayer. Reading his biography, you can discover that he has always prayed with enthusiasm, ever since he was a child. A sincere, spontaneous enthusiasm assimilated at home.
The Pope’s parents, Emilia Kaczorowska, a housewife and Karol Wojtyla senior, an army official, were very committed Christians and their behaviour and example had a definite influence on the future Pope’s upbringing. His older brother Edmund was another great influence on him. Being 14 years older, Edmund was already a university student when young Karol started school and was a shining example as a person, as a Christian, as a student.

Family tragedy

The young Karol had to face great tests at a young age, and prayer acted as a point of reference to understand and overcome these tests.
In 1929, when he was nine years old, Karol’s mother died. Immediately after the funeral, Mr. Wojtyla, shattered by grief, took his two sons on pilgrimage to Kalwaria Zebrzydowska, one of the most famous Marian shrines in Poland. He felt unable to explain in his own words the meaning of the tragedy which had struck his family, but he understood that it was not enough to cry about what had happened, it was also necessary to hope and to understand the reality beyond this world. He thought that by praying in this sacred place his words would perhaps acquire the force and clarity they needed to be able to transmit to his sons the reality in which he believed, but which he was unable to convey in all its entirety.
Three years later, Mr. Wojtyla had to repeat this pilgrimage to Kalwaria Zebrzydowska with Karol, as his elder son Edmund had passed away in dramatic circumstances. Edmund was a doctor at this point and had volunteered to help a young woman who had been infected with scarlet fever and had been admitted into the isolation ward of the hospital where he worked. At that time, scarlet fever was a contagious and deadly disease and it is for this reason that the other doctors had refused to treat this patient. Edmund thought it was not right tolet her die alone and abandoned without even trying tosave her and he spent a day and a night at her bedside, comforting and caring for her to the very end. A few days later, Edmund was feverish, and his breathing became laboured: he had been infected. He died on 4 December, 1932 at only 26 years of age. A young hero, a martyr to his duty. On the day of the funerals, the authorities commemorated him with moving words, but for the young Karol, the pain was immense and perhaps only prayer at that Marian shrine helped him to soothe the pain in his heart.

Absorbed in prayer

From that moment on, father and son lived in a strange communion. Mr. Wojtyla took on the role of both parents and he also became Karol’s brother, play mate, educator and advisor. People who knew Karol at that time have since reported that the two of them went to church every morning and that there they remained on their knees for a long time, one next to the other, absorbed in prayer.
Karol, as he grew up, continued his custom of going to church every morning. After school, he used to return there for a brief visit. He prayed after every meal and even before beginning his homework. He prayed before going to bed. All this was not out of habit. It was certainly a different style of behaviour to that of his companions and this attracted attention. But it wasn’t ‘sanctimonious’ behaviour. It was the expression of a deep, assimilated conviction and it is for this reason that he was admired and respected by others. After he became Pope, Wojtyla’s friends and acquaintances, all unanimously declared that he continued to be their most cheerful, brilliant and sporty companion, while behaving in this way. He was a poet, an actor, a mountain climber, a footballer and an enthusiastic dancer. But he did all of these things whilst trying to maintain a ‘complete vision’ of reality in his head; the reality which his senses perceived and which his faith suggested through prayer.
He grew up in this way. At 21, he also lost his father, who died of a heart attack, and he was left alone in the world. It was then that he thought of dedicating his life to God, becoming a priest. The custom of praying which he had assimilated as a child and as a boy, had continued to grow in him. It didn’t remain a ‘sweet’ childhood memory, a habit, it became a ‘forma mentis’, an intellectual necessity to understand the ‘secret’, to decode the reality of the world. Faced with the mysteries of life, Karol Wojtyla always turned to prayer to give him an answer or a sign.
On 1 September 1939, when the first German bombs fell on Poland, Karol Wojtyla was in Krakow, on Wawel Hill, where the ancient cathedral containing the tombs of Polish kings stands. It was a Friday, the first Friday of the month and he had gone to confession and then he had received Holy Communion, like he always did on the first Friday of the month. Hearing the bombing, he exited the cathedral and from the hill top was able to see the bombing of the city but instead of fleeing to take cover, he entered the church once more to continue praying. During the Nazi occupation of Poland he found work as a worker in a factory and his companions recall that he prayed often and that he always made the sign of the cross before eating.
Once he became a priest, he asked his bishop if he could enter the Carmelite Order so that he could dedicate himself to a contemplative life, a life filled with prayer. Because the Bishop of Krakow didn’t fulfil his wishes, he asked the Father Superior of the Carmelites to intervene, but the Bishop prophetically replied: Wojtyla is useful in my dioceses and as a consequence of this, will be useful to the Church.
After undertaking a postgraduate course in theology in Rome, the young Father Karol Wojtyla was sent to be a parish priest at Niegowic, a little village about 50 km from Krakow, which consisted of 200 inhabitants and a small wooden church. He had a lot of free time and he spent it in prayer. His parishioners used to see him walking through the orchards every day, reading his breviary before stopping under a tree to mediate for a while.
In July 1958, he was summoned to Warsaw by the primate of Poland, Cardinal Wyszynski, who communicated to him that Pope Pius XII had nominated him to be a bishop. Wojtyla left the Cardinal’s palace and immediately headed for the nearby Ursuline Convent. He asked the nun who had opened the door where the chapel was. He entered the chapel and knelt down at the first pew, in front of the tabernacle.
A hour went by, then two and this priest was still there. The nuns become a little curious. One of them recognised him: He’s the famous Professor Wojtyla, she said to the other nuns. In fact, at that time, Wojtyla was a professor of theology and philosophy at Lublin University, he had published several important books and was a famous poet. The nuns thought about inviting him to dinner, but when dinner time came, he was still in deep meditation with his head in his hands. He continued to pray for eight hours continuously.
Once he became Archbishop of Krakow, he ordered the construction of a chair with a kneeling-stool and a desk, on the left side of the chapel of the archbishop’s palace, not far from the tabernacle so that he could write and pray at the same time. He spent the greater part of his days there.

The Pope’ daily routine

As Pope, despite his numerous commitments, Karol Wojtyla has further increased the amount of time he dedicates to prayer. His days have always followed an intense pace. Even now that he is an elderly man, this pace has not slowed down. The Pope gets up at about 5 o’clock, he shaves, gets dressed and goes to the chapel where he prays for about an hour. He then prepares himself for Mass and after the Eucharist he continues to pray until about 8.30 a.m. Over the course of the day, when he has a free moment, he retreats to the chapel to pray. In the evening, after dinner, he remains there for a long time. Sometimes his praying is so intense that he can be heard lamenting and wailing. Sometimes, his collaborators, seeing that it is late, have entered the chapel and found the Pope lying on the cold marble floor, motionless as if dead, with his arms tensed in the form of a cross.
In the offices of the Russian Secret Service, the former K.G.B, there is a thick file on John Paul II. When Communism ruled in Russia, the Polish Pope was constantly under observation by spies who reported back to Moscow that Karol Wojtyla dedicated no less than six hours a day to prayer in that period. In his own private chapel, next to the kneeling-stool, John Paul has placed a little table onto which he puts the letters of the faithful who write to him about their personal problems and ask for prayers. As well as these letters he adds documents concerning delicate matters upon which he believes it is necessary to ask for divine intervention.
Prayer, therefore, has always been the foundation of Karol Wojtyla’s life. Deep prayer which he intensifies during great liturgical occasions such as Christmas, Easter, or during difficult, dramatic moments in the history of the world, such as the one we are experiencing now. Prayer which, for Karol Wojtyla, has become his life. Instead of six or seven hours’ prayer a day, he prays twenty-four hours a day, day in, day out. His body has suffered physical torments for years now. After the assassination attempt in 1981, his existence has been one of continual martyrdom: mysterious diseases, falls and fractures, surgical operations. He barely manages to stand up and he walks taking small steps, but he never stops. He has recently been called the walking cross. Suffering has become a continual prayer for him. After having broken his shoulder in 1993, he told his collaborators in confidence, For me, this is another opportunity to unite more closely with the mystery of Christ’s Cross, in communion with many suffering brothers and sisters.

Updated on October 06 2016