My Meetings with the Pope

suchandra · October 20, 2008

An ISKCON guru wants to meet the pope.

He says, not to follow Prabhupada's example to preach to the pope, but to ask him, "how does it feel to be God's representative?".

Guess what the pope says to this curious spiritual master, right,

"I'm not God's representative, only Lord Jesus is God's representative, I'm just an officiating priest."

My Meetings with the Pope

by His Divine Grace Sacinandan Swami

For a long time I wondered how a person would feel when placed in a role that grants him supreme authority over the minds and lives of others—especially when that person is expected to represent the supreme Lord. My meeting with Pope John Paul II answered my question.

In 1968 Srila Prabhupada asked Pope Paul VI if they could meet to discuss how to help people achieve love of God “as the prime perfection of life.” Srila Prabhupada had already accurately observed that consciousness of God was in decline among people, so he wrote to the Pope, “This tendency is very much deteriorating, and because Your Holiness is the head of a great religious sect I think we should meet together and chalk out a program for cooperation.”

Unfortunately, the two never met.

Srila Prabhupada made another attempt to meet Pope Paul VI, in 1976. Srila Prabhupada must have heard that the Pope was open to receiving religious leaders from all faiths. But Prabhupada was not interested in an official talk; he wanted a serious discussion. On July 14, 1976, he wrote to the devotees who were organizing the meeting, “If it is simply a courtesy visit, then what is the use? Religion is now being taken as a formality. People generally have no real conception of God. Ours is a tangible connection with God. We know who is God and how to serve Him.”

Again, Srila Prabhupada and the Pope did not meet.

A Chance to Answer My Question

Like Srila Prabhupada I was eager to meet the Pope, but for a different reason. I am an insignificant person who would never dare compare myself with Srila Prabhupada or his spiritual genius, so naturally my motive in wanting to meet the Pope was fairly modest: I wanted to hear how he felt about being a representative of God. Does he sometimes feel burdened by his position? An authentic representative stands for—and is, in a sense—identical to that which he represents. If I purchase an airline ticket from an agent authorized by an airline, the airline must honor the ticket. Similarly, the representative of God is identical to God because he is God’s authorized agent; his words carry God’s power.

But how does he feel playing this role? That was my question.

Somehow I managed to have two surprisingly intimate meetings with Pope John Paul II when I went to Hungary in the early 1990s. Please allow me to describe them as accurately as I can.

In the early 1990s I went to Budapest when about fifty enthusiastic devotees invited me to go on harinam with them. Without mentioning why, they informed me that the city would be full of people that particular afternoon. I remember that it was autumn and the leaves had already begun to turn color. They hung like so many artistic flags—especially the leaves on the huge chestnut trees so common in Budapest. As we danced happily down an alley flanked by chestnut trees, we suddenly came upon a large gathering. Our kirtan party became more exuberant, and it seemed that there were no limits to our bliss as we absorbed ourselves in relishing the divine names. It also seemed that there were no limits to where we could go in the city.

As I was dancing I noticed a large, well-dressed man, smiling in his black suit and priest’s collar, joyfully motioning us out of the alley and closer to a nearby building. We accepted his invitation, and the crowd dutifully parted for us. Before we knew it we were before the Pope, who was dressed in white. He had come out of the building to see our harinam. It seemed that he had asked his Hungarian hosts to arrange for us to meet him.

Have you ever participating in a blissful harinam? I mean, have you ever chanted with a group of enthusiastic devotees and felt you were riding a transcendental train and racing through the countryside until the tracks rose up into the sky? That was exactly how I felt that day. I couldn’t seem to step out of the kirtan and stop the train.

Still, there was the Pope and I still had my question for him. I formulated the question in the language of the heart—a language communicated through the eyes.

Glances exchanged between spiritual people can be as telling as glances exchanged between lovers. Yes, I still remember the Pope’s answer.

Sacinandana Swami: How does it feel to be the representative of God on earth?

The Pope (scrutinizing me to determine whether he could confide in me, then hesitatingly): I am only a servant—a worker in God’s mountain garden.

Sacinandana Swami (fully energized by the chanting): Yes, we are to see ourselves as humble instruments, but how do you carry such a burden? Is it sometimes too heavy? I mean, especially when you serve in such a huge religious organization as the Catholic Church with all its politics?

Pope (his expression tender): It is difficult. Our organization is huge. There are so many interests, and they often conflict with purity and spirituality. But this is not really your business. Just chant, chant, chant the names of the Lord. That will change the face of the world. Chant and pray. I also believe in that.

After this message the Pope gave me a friendly wave. It seemed to me that he had a tear in his eye. But I saw him brace himself, turn around, and enter yet another courtesy meeting with the authorities of his Church in Budapest.

I was touched by his human warmth and by the deep spirituality that came through his eyes. But since the meeting was over I directed the kirtan locomotive away from his building and back down the alley with the chestnut trees.

When I returned to the temple I asked the devotees to inquire whether there was any chance I could meet the Pope more privately. I wanted to humbly ask him the same question to be sure I had understood his answer properly. The devotees smiled at my naivete. Meetings with the Pope, they said, have to be arranged at least a year ahead of time. And even if we had arranged the meeting in advance, it seemed unlikely the Pope would have enough time for an actual discussion.

Still, I wanted to meet him again to have our exchange confirmed. My chance came the very next day when we were again out on harinam. This time we had to cross the road on which the Pope would drive to bless the people of Budapest. Our party stopped far down the large street where few people had gathered.

But he did not come. I had almost given up hope of seeing him when five Mercedes limousines in quick succession, each full of armed men, came into sight. These cars were followed by a van sporting several gunmen hanging off the sides like ripe grapes, all of them scanning the area for possible assassins. And then came the Popemobile—the Pope’s bullet-proof limousine—which allows the Pope to sit or stand and wave at the people. I thought the Pope looked like a doll in a glass box in that car. It was clear his duty was to simply be seen and to bless.

When we saw him coming, we intensified our kirtan. Amazingly, as the cavalcade approached, the Pope ordered his driver to slow down. There was no crowd where we were chanting, but the car drove extremely slowly and again the Pope looked into my eyes. He clearly recognized me from the previous day, probably because of my garland, and again he spoke to me through his warm eyes: “It is not easy to carry this burden.” Then he motioned to the gunmen riding on all the cars. They looked so out of place with their dark Matrix sunglasses and machine guns. The Pope seemed to say, “I feel extremely insignificant and unworthy, yet God’s work must go on. I have to make so many compromises with Church authorities and the world’s political leaders—toomany compromises. But you can simply chant, help others, preach, and pray. I am trying to do the same in my way.”

A Critical Investigation of My Meetings

A critic would probably doubt the reality of these meetings. Should I expect others to accept that my talks with the Pope were real? Perhaps I only imagined his answers.

I do not think it is possible to say whether these meetings were real or not. Personal impressions are subjective and rarely stand the test of laboratory objectivity. But is the laboratory the only way to verify truth?

For me these meetings were very real, and now when I think of Pope John Paul II, I remember him as I saw him in Budapest and take inspiration from the exchanges I had with him. Wherever he has now gone, I wish him well and thank him for his work and the inspiration he gave me.

I would like to end this article with a statement by Bhaktivinoda Thakura that I know the Pope would love:

O my mind, why are you envious of those who follow a different process of worship? There are different persons in different countries. Someone worships dressed in a loincloth, and someone worships while stooping. Someone worships Brahman with his eyes closed. Someone worships while sitting in a yogic posture while some are absorbed in sankirtan. But everyone worships Him, Krishna, the abode of wealth. Therefore in the mood of brotherhood, everyone should live in full cooperation. Always execute devotional service to Lord Hari in this life or in death. (Prema Pradipa, Fourth Ray)

Dealing with the Responsibility of Being a Guru

In his purport to Srimad-Bhagavatam 1.13.48, Srila Prabhupada writes that a representative of God should cooperate with the Lord:

"[One] should try to cooperate with the Lord in His outward activities for correcting the fallen souls. By His order only, one should become a spiritual master and cooperate with the Lord. One should not become a spiritual master for one’s personal benefit, for some material gain, or as an avenue of business or occupation for earning livelihood. Bona fide spiritual masters who look unto the Supreme Lord to cooperate with Him are actually qualitatively one with the Lord."

Some of us have been commissioned to act as gurus. While in this position, we receive honor and respect. Reflecting on my meeting with the Pope provided me a welcome opportunity to think about how I deal with the authority that has been conferred on me. If I am honest, I will understand that this respect provides only an opportunity. That is, I should not think I am a sannyasi, a guru, and that I have become great. Rather, I do not deserve the respect I have been offered because I am not qualified. Still, my spiritual master has given me this opportunity for service, so I must become qualified and fulfill the responsibilities of the position.

Isn’t spiritual life about being given opportunities to rise above our current state? The moment that we think we are very spiritual and qualified, we have become victims of false pride. False pride ruins everything. Better to consider ourselves recipients of service opportunities and to pray for constant protection and guidance. Only then will it be possible to serve properly. By the mercy of guru and Krishna a blind man can see the stars twinkling in the sky, a lame man can cross mountains, and a fool can become an eloquent speaker who lovingly helps others.

theist · October 20, 2008

O my mind, why are you envious of those who follow a different process of worship? There are different persons in different countries. Someone worships dressed in a loincloth, and someone worships while stooping. Someone worships Brahman with his eyes closed. Someone worships while sitting in a yogic posture while some are absorbed in sankirtan. But everyone worships Him, Krishna, the abode of wealth. Therefore in the mood of brotherhood, everyone should live in full cooperation. Always execute devotional service to Lord Hari in this life or in death. (Prema Pradipa, Fourth Ray)