Statement by His Eminence John Cardinal O'Connor
Archbishop of New York
One of the most remarkable aspects of Pope John Paul II's October 1995 address to the General Assembly of the United Nations, from my perspective, was the intensification of attention as the address neared its peroration. Attention had been maintained from the opening words onward, but became almost palpable as the Pope neared the 18th and final paragraph, which led to a veritable explosion of acclaim in a standing ovation.
The key to all that preceded it was, indeed, that final paragraph. It is my privilege to have been tasked to address both it and its immediate forerunners, paragraphs 14 through 17, however briefly.
In paragraph 18 the Pope says:
"The answer to the fear which darkens human existence at the end of the twentieth century is the common effort to build the civilization of love. . ."
In these five words, "build the civilization of love," the Pope seems to be offering nothing less than a revolutionary new formula for international relations. It is a formula found nowhere else in more than two thousand years of political theory, from Plato's Republic and Aristotle's Politics, to the Logical Positivism and Balance of Power of our own day. The civilization of love, says our Holy Father, is to be "founded on the universal values of peace, solidarity, justice and liberty." But a civilization must have a "soul". The "soul" of the civilization of love is "the culture of freedom: the freedom of individuals and the freedom of nations, lived in self-giving solidarity and responsibility."
This goes far beyond Aristotle's koinonia. Further, it proposes the ultimate rejection of the cancerous theory that has for centuries eaten at the heart of all civilization, that of Thomas Hobbes' Leviathan, in accordance with which each man is by nature a ravenous wolf to every other man. Indeed, the Pope asserts quite explicitly: "We must not be afraid of man."
Why not? Why not be afraid of man or of the future? Because, the Holy Father says, contrary to Hobbes, "Each and every human person has been created in the 'image and likeness' of the One who is the origin of all that is." Hence, we have within us "the capacities for wisdom and virtue." So much, also for the Hegelian-Marxist insistence that we have within us only the "seeds of our own destruction". Karol Wotyla did not divest himself of his philosopher's mantle when he put on the robes of John Paul II the Pope.
All political philosophy, however, has its limitations. For the Pope, while the purely natural order deserves profound respect, it can never serve as a foundation for hope. In paragraph 17, he tells us:
"As a Christian, my hope and trust are centered on Jesus Christ.... Jesus Christ is for us God made man, and made a part of the history of humanity. Precisely for this reason, Christian hope for the world and its future extends to every human person. Because of the radiant humanity of Christ, nothing genuinely human fails to touch the hearts of Christians."
And yet while forthright always in his declaration of his own deep faith, His Holiness rejects all intolerance and speaks, rather, of the obligation we have "to engage others in respectful dialogue." But dialogue, by definition, is a two-way street. Hence, there seems to be a special firmness suggestive of a degree of frustration in the Pope's assertion that "the Church asks only to be able to propose respectfully" its "message of salvation", particularly as we approach the two thousandth anniversary of Christ's birth. The Church asks "to be able to promote, in charity and service, the solidarity of the entire human family". . . particularly since the love of Christ invites us to have a special concern for all, but most particularly for "the weakest and the suffering."
In other words, it seems to me that while the Pope speaks here with humble modesty, and "not as a religious leader seeking special privileges" for the world community of Catholics, he yet insists firmly on his right and the Church's to witness anywhere and everywhere -- to human dignity, to hope, to the conviction "that the destiny of all nations lies in the hands of a merciful Providence." Clearly, I can not speak for His Holiness, but, however gentle his words, he certainly seems to me to be calling for a moratorium on the severe restrictions imposed on the Church in certain regions of the world. The Pope is a charitable diplomat, but a thoroughly honest one, as well.
It is his own integrity, indeed, that makes so credible the Pope's call in paragraph 16 for hope and trust, which he believes to be not only within the purview of the United Nations, but indispensable to that body. The transcendent and spiritual dimension of the human person can never be ignored without damage to the human person and to the cause of human freedom.
It is because of his revolutionary concept of a civilization of love, I believe, that His Holiness says what he says about the role of the United Nations in paragraph 14 of his address. Given continued world carping about the U.N., the Pope's assertion is refreshing, that "the need for such an Organization is even more obvious" than at the time of its founding. Yet he points to a crucial flaw in the U.N. Organization, when he calls for it "to rise more and more above the cold status of an administrative institution." The United Nations must be far more than a bureaucracy. It must be a living organism, with a soul. That soul must serve as a "moral centre" where all the nations of the world feel at home and develop a shared awareness of being, as it were, a "family of nations."
In my personal assessment, the two interrelated concepts of a civilization of love and a family of nations are the two "blockbusters" of the Holy Father's entire address and the two most innovative contributions to international relations offered since the establishment of the United Nations.
Indeed, the Pope calls the promotion by the U.N. of a family of nations a "qualitative leap in international life," raising the "organizational" level of relations to an "organic" level, from merely existing with to existing for others. If this demands "appropriate modifications in the operating model of the United Nations," particularly in view of radical changes in the world since the inception of the U.N., then these modifications must be made. Many new peoples are experiencing freedom; many legitimately long "to 'be' and to 'count for' more", and the U.N. must be flexible enough as an organization to meet these legitimate aspirations. Or, rather, only an organic, rather than a mere organizational, entity can be flexible enough to meet these aspirations.
As a United Nations watcher and public supporter for many years, I see this October 1995 address of Pope John Paul II as a significantly different intervention, different from those of Pope Paul VI, different from his own previous interventions. As I see it, the Pope is addressing not simply such worldwide changes as the multiplication of nations and the diversification of cultures in the United Nations. He is addressing radical attitudinal changes, especially in respect to traditional moral values, and most particularly in regard to marriage, the family and human life itself. One need but look very cursorily at the Cairo and Beijing Conferences sponsored by the United Nations for examples of such changes.
At both Cairo and Beijing, the Holy See's Delegation had to protest in the strongest possible terms -- as the Holy See's representatives had already done during preparatory conferences -- against blatant efforts to broaden in a massive way the practice of contraception, sterilization and abortion as means of population control. The Cairo Conference, ostensibly devoted to Population and Development, in fact spent minimal time on critically needed development in the Third World, and maximum time on population control.
The Beijing Conference, ostensibly concerned with legitimate rights of women, witnessed repeated attempts to undermine the very meaning of family, and under the rubric of the "nontraditional" family, again pushed contraception and abortion as "reproductive rights". Even the definition of gender, itself, was twisted and distorted in preparatory drafts prior to the Conference. How ironic, if not appalling, that following Beijing some western delegates boasted proudly to whoever would listen of how harmoniously they had worked with delegates of the Holy See, when in fact the Holy See had to uphold the true dignity of womanhood and of humanity itself against pressure to the contrary on the part of the western world.
The kinds of pressures exerted at Cairo and Beijing and, I respectfully suggest, the kind of contempt demonstrated by the industrially developed western world for the Third World are totally alien to the concepts of a civilization of love and a family of nations posited by our Holy Father. In a functional family, the strong protect the weak, brothers respect sisters, sisters respect brothers, children are welcomed as precious gifts from God, parents and elders are cared for with tenderness until death.
In the "culture of death" that has come to pervade the world, only a sense of the sacredness and dignity of the human person made in the image of God can assure survival. Only such a sense makes a civilization of love and a family of nations possible. Humanity itself was demeaned at Beijing, and ironically -- and tragically -- at this conference on the rights of women, womanhood was demeaned with a vengeance.
Is there any wonder that the Pope would remind the United Nations: "In an authentic family the strong do not dominate; instead, the weaker members, because of their weakness, are all the more welcomed and served." Or that he would call not only for "respect for individual cultural identities", but "full esteem for them as a common treasure belonging to the cultural patrimony of mankind."
Permit me to conclude by observing that prior to our Holy Father's October address, a number of United Nation's delegates flattered me by asking me what the Pope would say, as though I were his personal advisor. Particularly, the questioners wanted to know if he would scold the United Nations for failing to prevent wars, failing to check hunger and homelessness, in general, failing to solve the world's most horrendous problems.
Professing ignorance of what the Pope would say -- which was quite easy, because I didn't know -- I suggested that, while offering a sober and realistic appraisal of world problems and suffering, our Holy Father is above all a man of hope, and that I felt certain he would not leave the assembly without inspiring hope. Nor did he disappoint us. What brought the General Assembly to its feet in a tumultuous ovation?
"With these gifts (of wisdom and virtue), and with the help of God's grace, we can build in the next century a civilization worthy of the human person, a true culture of freedom. We can and must do so! And in doing so, we shall see that the tears of this century have prepared the ground of a new springtime of the human spirit."
Perhaps some have already forgotten those words. I will never be able to do so, or to forget the thrill that went with hearing them.
