John Paul & Johnny

Johnny Cash and Pope John Paul II share a common cord in their spiritual gift to the world. It's a deep and powerful connection between the two of them (though to my knowledge they never met), and a message that was given through their very lives.

Johnny Cash lived a dangerous life, and he was saved by a powerful grace. His redemption came largely by the intercession of a powerful woman, June Carter. She stood by his side when no one else could stand to be around him, and told him the things no one else had the guts to tell him. His greatest success came when he found the means to let grace and forgiveness into his life.

He had a long and successful career throughout the 60's and 70's, and well into the 80's, but by the early 90's had become largely ignored by his record company and the public. When Rick Rubin, producer of such artists as Beastie Boys and Red Hot Chili Peppers, approached him about making a bare-bones recording of his favourite songs, Johnny was interested. The two set to recording dozens of songs in Rick Rubin's living room. The first of these recordings became a surprisingly successful album, and was followed up by several more.

Somehow, these simple and deeply honest songs connected in a meaningful way with a group of people for whom “Country music” was a joke. Young people began to love Johnny Cash. By doing something he had always wanted to do, making a collection of songs featuring only himself and his guitar, he had become a father figure to a fatherless generation. By casting aside what was 'cool,' he had become relevant.

During the recording sessions of his second American Recordings album in 1996, Johnny began to feel the effects of what would eventually be misdiagnosed as Shy Drager's syndrome, and later diagnosed as autonomic neuropathy. His illness left him feeling greatly fatigued, and he would have to take frequent breaks during his recording sessions. Often these sessions consisted of Johnny sitting alone in his studio in Tennessee, and recording something for Rick Rubin to listen to and build upon, or vice versa.

There were a total of six albums in the American Recordings series, two of which were released posthumously. There is a significant difference in the quality of his voice between the first and the last of these albums. Because of his illness, his voice faltered. But strangely enough, it also became stronger. In his weakness, the significance of the songs he sung took on a greater strength.

In his youth in Poland, Karol Wojtyla faced Nazi persecution, and fought in his own way to defend the people and culture of his homeland. Later, as a young priest and bishop, he fought again to defend the persecuted against the oppressive hand of communism.

When Karol Wojtyla became Pope John Paul II in 1978, he was considered young for a pope. He was a mere 58 years old. He eventually became the world's most traveled pope, visiting 129 countries throughout his pontificate. He had always been an active and sporting individual, often leading canoeing expeditions and hiking retreats for students when he was still a young priest. (He had been on a kayaking expedition when he found out that he'd been appointed to the office of bishop.)

In 1981, John Paul's life was also saved by the intercession of a powerful woman, when an assassin's gun placed four bullets in his body. Perhaps the greatest miracle, however, was not in the pontiff's life being spared, but in what happened when the pope and the assassin met again just over a year later.

John Paul held the hand that had fired a gun at his heart. The two men developed a friendship that remained. Forgiveness and Love trumped justice and revenge.

In 1984, he held the first 'World Youth Day' for Catholic young people, an event which has been held in various countries every 2 to 3 years ever since. Something in his personality and life's work connected meaningfully with young people. He did not condescend to them, but made them feel like a vital part of the Body of Christ.

He also became a key figure in the downfall of Communism in Europe. He fought relentlessly to uphold the dignity of the forgotten and the oppressed. He upheld a consistent ethic of human life, from the smallest life in the womb, to the sick, to the aged, and even to his enemies.

Soon, he would become the embodiment of his own teachings.

In the early 1990's, he was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. He pressed on through physical pain and slurred speech, to deliver some of the most important messages of his pontificate. He became a living parable on the dignity of human life.

While John Paul struggled to speak, Johnny struggled to sing. Both of their voices rang loud and true.

Each one became a cultural enigma. There was nothing “cool” about John Paul II, but young people loved him. His life spoke something even more powerful than his words, and gave those words gravity. Eventually, it became “cool” to like Johnny Cash. Before that, and beyond that, there was and is an honest man and his message, informed by a life that sang of grace.

Johnny and John Paul inhabited the messages they brought to the world. When Johnny told a tale of regret and redemption, we believed it because he had lived it as a young man who had become acquainted with his own darkness, and as an old man who had fallen in love with the Light. When John Paul spoke of the dignity of life, we believed it because he had lived it as a young priest defending life against a Nazi regime, and as an aged pope living with a debilitating illness.

Both of these men stand as a testament to the dignity of life, and each one of them has had a profound affect upon my own. Life is rare and glorious. Life is worth sacrifice. Suffering is not the enemy of life. It is its companion, and when it comes to each of us, as it most certainly will, we must not rage against it. We can accept what has come to us, lift our voice, and sing our song in spite of it. Or perhaps, because of it. It is working to draw us closer to the One who made us. Somehow, in the singing of our song, and in the acceptance of our suffering, we can be a witness to a love that is beyond the stuff of earth.

“The Master of Life’s been good to me. He has given me strength to face past illnesses, and victory in the face of defeat. He has given me life and joy where others saw oblivion.... Life and love go on. Let the music play.” ~Johnny Cash

"Do not abandon yourselves to despair.  We are the Easter people and hallelujah is our song." ~John Paul II

My Patron Saints, Part One

Everyone in heaven is a saint, and sometimes the Church draws particular attention to one of these saints by bestowing upon them the formal title of “Saint”. Usually this is because this person showed himself or herself to have been an extraordinary person in some way, even if that way was quite common. Whoever they were, they showed that they loved God, and that their lives were touched by him in some remarkable way. Granting a title of Saint to someone is meant to draw attention, not to the greatness of the person, but to the unique outpouring of God's grace and love upon their lives.

Often these Saints are made 'patrons' of people or situations with which they could personally relate. Personally, I can pray for anybody, but I have a special connection to someone who's lost a sibling. I can pray with the insight I've drawn from my own experiences, and my heart is connected to the person I'm praying for in a distinctive way. People in heaven, saints and Saints alike, have this same connection.

Over the years, I've collected my own batch of patron saints. This started years before I actually became Catholic, and I'll write more about that another time. There are certain people that my heart has been drawn to over the years, and sometimes I offer up a few words to them. I ask them, as I would ask any good friend, to say a prayer for me. I'd like to share a bit about what makes these people special to me, and why I esteem their prayers and fellowship in the sacred communion of saints.

Saint John R. Cash.

One day in 1996, my friend Dave Skene told me about a new Johnny Cash album, on which he covered songs by artists such as Beck, Soundgarden, and Tom Petty. I picked up a copy of Unchained from the library, expecting not much more than some interesting novelty songs. As I listened, however, I heard something much greater. I found truth in that voice. He seemed to inhabit these songs in such a way that made them his own, and it was hard to imagine anyone else singing them.

I spread the gospel of Johnny Cash wherever I went. I bought the book, Cash: An Autobiography and as I read I felt like I was sitting on Johnny's porch in Tennessee, listening to him tell stories about his life. These stories helped to inform the songs he sang, and as I listened to his music, it took on even more gravity. He was deeply aware of his failings, both in what he had done and in what he was capable of doing. He had embraced a life of deep and abiding grace, and seemed to exude a wisdom that has come from making a lot of mistakes.

Johnny's spirituality was deep and rugged. His holiness did not come from outward piety, but was displayed in who it was he chose to be with. This was most famously exemplified in his two most popular albums, which had been recorded at Folsom Prison and San Quentin respectively. The energy recorded on these two records is palpable. The inmates saw him as a man who was truly with them. Although he had never served time in prison, they could recognize an outlaw when they saw one.

The fact that he was comfortable following up 'A Boy Named Sue', with the famously bleeped line, “I'm the sonofabitch that named you Sue!” with 'Peace in the Valley' said a lot about his spirituality. He showed me that a saint and a badass could be one and the same. In fact, both of these qualities were most on display simply in his being himself. He was an outlaw that knew grace and beauty and tenderness.

In his book, he wrote openly about the loss of his older brother as a little boy. He wrote of the connection he continued to feel with his brother, despite the distance that comes from death. Although our circumstances were very different, I knew what he was talking about. And I could feel what he was singing about when he sang of death, of hope, and of heaven.

Today, I work in Modesto, California with broken men not unlike the people Johnny sang about, and sang to. As I become more intimately acquainted with their stories of loss and regret, I feel many of Johnny's songs all the more deeply. These songs of brokenness and brutal honesty become prayers of hope and healing for these men and for myself.

Despite his success, Johnny Cash seemed to embody honesty, devotion, and even simplicity. He wasn't perfect, and like any saint, he would set anyone straight who would see him that way. After all, what is a saint but a penitent sinner?  What he was, like every other saint, was himself. He didn't just stand up for the forgotten and the broken, but, like Jesus, he stood with them.

He life continues to inspire me, and his music continues to renew me. I'm not saying I'm the badass that Johnny Cash was, but if I have my moments, a great part of me has Johnny to thank.

Saint John, pray for us.

I have been ungrateful,

I've been unwise.

Restless from the cradle,

Now I realize,

It's so hard to see the rainbow,

Through glasses dark as these.

Maybe I'll be able,

From now on, on my knees.

Oh, I am weak.

Oh, I know I am vain.

Take this weight from me,

Let my spirit be unchained.