I knew he’d be there, of course, between the covers of Pontiff by Thomas and Morgan-Watts, and In God’s Name by David Yallop. I just didn’t know there would be that much to him – all that genuine Christianity in the open for the world to see. Among the purple and gold, the Michaelangelos and Raphaels, the politicians and financial wizards. Right on the throne of Peter.

Somehow, he didn’t seem to belong. The man with the ready smile, the heart of steel for hard decisions, the heart of compassion for little people, this stranger to intrigue. Yet, the more I studied, the more convinced I became that Albino Luciani’s entire life was a preparation for those brief 33 days as Pope John Paul I.

He had been nurtured in poverty, and never forgot what that was like. As he moved from being an unknown cleric to becoming bishop of Vittorio Veneto, he gently refused all gifts with these words: “I came without five lire. I want to leave without five lire.”

Later, as Pope, when he looked over the file on Cardinal Cody of Chicago and balanced his record of fiscal mismanagement, the unrest among his clergy and laity, his closing the doors of hope in inner-city schools against his lavish contributions to the Vatican, the decision came quickly: Cody must go!

An incident in Vittorio Veneto, shows his attitude toward clerics and civil law. Two priests had become involved in a financial scandal, resulting in the loss of money to small savers.

Luciani called his four-hundred priests together, told them the entire story and promised the two billion lire would be returned. He said:

It is true that two of us have done wrong. I believe the diocese must pay. I also believe that the law must run its due course. We must not hide behind any immunity. In this scandal there is a lesson for us all. It is that we must be a poor church. I further intend to sell one of our buildings. The money will be used to repay every single lira that these priests owe. I ask for your agreement.

Albino Luciani obtained their agreement. Some who were present admired the man and his morality. Others felt he was too moral about the matter. The property speculator who had involved the two priests committed suicide before his trial. One of the priests served a one-year prison term, and the other was acquitted. ( In God’s Name by David A. Yallop)

If Luciani was this sensitive about financial matters, one cannot help but wonder what he would have done if faced with the sexual abuses in our American church. There wouldn’t have been any cover-ups, for sure. How many thousands of children he would have saved, and in the process, no doubt his direct, immediate actions would have avoided the vengeful lawsuits we are coping with today.

While a spirit of poverty revealed Luciani’s attitude toward money, it was compassion that made him one with his people. He visited the sick, the poor; he stopped in to talk with his priests, to listen to their problems, their dreams. His door was always open – sheep didn’t need appointments to receive the care of the shepherd.

In February, 1970, again “without five lire,” he became archbishop of Venice and continued his simple way of life.

On behalf of the retarded and handicapped, he sought a low-interest loan from the Banca Catolica del Vento to build special work centers, only to be told that the bank had been sold to Robert Calvi, the power-hungry head of the Banco Ambrosiano, by the president of the Vatican Bank, Bishop Paul Marcinkus.

Although the Vatican Bank owned 51 percent of the shares, various dioceses in the region owned five percent and considered Banca Catolica del Vento morally their bank. It had been sold without their knowledge, and the entire profit had gone to the Vatican Bank.

Later, as Pope, fully aware of Archbishop Marcinkus’ Machiavellian ways, Luciani decided: Marcinkus must go!

If anyone had any doubt about Luciano’s determination to follow his path of poverty and humility straight to the halls of the Vatican, his coronation as Pope John Paul I set the record straight.

No time for a papal coronation; he would become pope during a simple Mass. No need for a chair to be carried on; he would walk. There would be no tiara covered with precious jewels; a woolen stole over his shoulders would tell all who cared to know that he was still the shepherd; his flock has simply grown to eight-hundred million Roman Catholic Christians.

At this hour, he is still shepherding, for his brief period as pope cast a beam bright enough to light our path out of the present darkness.

This is a prayer Pope John Paul I’s mother taught him when he was a child.

Lord, take me as I am, with my faults and with my sins,
but make me become what You want me to be.
Amen.

Home

Archives