THE TELEGRAPH: Benedict XVI's historic visit to Britain has been a resounding success – and may have changed attitudes towards the role of religion in modern life, says Peter Stanford.
In a damp Birmingham park before a crowd of 55,000 worshippers, Pope Benedict XVI rounded off his visit to Britain yesterday by beatifying the Victorian convert and theologian John Henry Newman. Like Newman (best remembered, said Benedict, for his "keen intellect and prolific pen"), this Pontiff has long enjoyed a reputation for being a complex, clever but rather dry academic, favouring language that is difficult to understand and moral positions that are uncompromising. Hence his nickname, "God's rottweiler". Or at least that was how Benedict was seen until he arrived in Britain. What a difference four days can make.
When the Pope argued in his homily that, contrary to popular prejudice, Newman was in fact a "warm and human" character, a parish priest and "pastor of souls" as well as a great thinker, he might well have been referring to himself. If this state visit has achieved anything, it has been to show a decidedly sceptical public that the parish priest of the world's 1.2 billion Catholics does indeed have a heart. Since the theme that the organisers chose for the trip was Newman's motto "Heart speaks unto heart", they must be congratulating themselves on a mission accomplished.
From the moment the television cameras picked up Benedict and the Queen chatting amiably in the Palace of Holyroodhouse in Edinburgh on Thursday, during the traditional exchange of gifts, it was clear that the Pope was determined to reveal himself more as a kindly German shepherd than a rottweiler. Every time the Popemobile pulled to a halt to allow Benedict to reach out and kiss a baby, that pastoral image was reinforced. And it was not a cynical, mechanical ploy. Benedict's voice may have been devoid of intonation, and his face curiously immobile, but his eyes conveyed that same pastorly warmth and humanity that he praised in Newman. Here was an essentially modest man; if not charismatic in the mould of his crowd-pleasing predecessor, John Paul II, then certainly possessing a quiet charm, and emphatically not the woman-hater, gay-basher or ivory-tower bigot of stereotype.
In advance of the visit, siren voices had warned that it would all be a disaster. Few would turn up, we were told. Yet 125,000 lined the streets of Edinburgh, according to the police, and 75,000 came to Glasgow's Bellahouston Park. Everywhere the Popemobile went, the crowds were 10 or 12 deep. As reporters moved among them, it was clear that these were not simply the faithful, coming out of a tribal loyalty to their embattled leader, but people of faith and none, simply curious to witness a moment of history – the first state visit by a pope since the Reformation – and to hear a distinctly counter-cultural message, questioning the remorseless march of the me society, with its twin obsessions of consumerism and celebrity. Read on and comment >>> Peter Stanford * | Monday, September 20, 2010
* Peter Stanford is a former editor of the 'Catholic Herald' and author of 'The Extra Mile: A 21st Century Pilgrimage' (Continuum)
