of addressing the human condition and the role of the laity were recurring themes in his learned speeches (known in the Council’s terminology as “interventions”).
His best-known contributions had to do with formulating and expressing the role of the Church in the modern world. He helped write the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, Gaudium et Spes (“Joy and Hope”), which was one of four Apostolic Constitutions resulting from Vatican II and promulgated by Pope Paul VI in December 1965.
By the end of Vatican II, Archbishop Wojtila’s reputation would no longer be confined to Poland. He was now well-known to his fellow clergy throughout the world.
Back in Poland
Archbishop Wojtila’s second book came about as a result of his participation in the Council. Person and Act was an attempt to express the philosophical underpinnings of the teachings that emerged from Vatican II. The book is notoriously difficult reading. An English edition exists, but critics argue that it has been modified from the original so that it does not always represent the author’s thinking.
One of the vital documents from Vatican II was Dignitatis Humanae , which among its other teachings declared that people have a right to religious freedom, both freedom from coercion to worship and freedom to worship according to their conscience. The document encouraged the structuring of society to ensure that right. This pronouncement created an obvious problem for the Communist government in Poland, whose goal was to control and suppress the Church in Poland. Then, too, both the Church in Poland and the Communist government in Poland lived under the cloud of potential Soviet intervention, which neither group wanted. Consequently, both were engaged in a delicate balancing act.
The Communist government in Poland asserted a great deal of control over Church activities, including the right to veto appointments. When that government pressed for the nomination of Karol Wojtila to become Archbishop of Krakow, they no doubt saw him as an inexperienced young man who was unschooled in politics and would be easy to manipulate. What they got was more than they bargained for. Throughout his clerical career in Poland, he confounded the regime.
Were Catholic charities banned? He created less formal charitable networks at the parish level. Was there a moratorium on creating new parishes? He found ways to evangelize the population of the neighborhood to create the reality of a parish. Did the communist bureaucrats refuse to process permits for building new churches? He created a groundswell of support that caused problems for the government and got the church built.
The regime had its victories, too, as when Father Jozef Kurzeja, who had been agitating for the building of a church in a particular location, was so hounded by the security police that he died of heart failure at the youthful age of thirty-nine. Archbishop Wojtila saw to it that the church was built. He was able to dedicate it as pope, seven years after Father Kurzeja’s death, in 1983.
In a Communist country, the dominant relationship was between the state and the individual, and the individual was clearly the subordinate. The individual’s loyalty had to be to the state. All other counter-loyalties were in the way, including the bonds of family and community. Archbishop Wojtila’s strength was in building community, and he created ties among all its facets: young marrieds, youth, elderly, infirm and disabled, laity, clergy, and uncommitted. He also extended an ecumenical hand in friendship to the tiny Protestant minority in Krakow. The archbishop’s success in forging ties flew in the face of Communist goals. As a result, his movements were increasingly monitored, and his residence was bugged. Occasionally, there was even cloak-and-dagger intrigue: the secret police following Wojtila’s car were eluded through fancy driving maneuvers and a