I’m quite dubious, as an historian, about calling the late Pope John Paul II “the Great,” as some folks are already beginning to do. I’m very much opposed to fast-tracking sainthood for him, as is also being discussed.
There’s a reason why there’s traditionally been a long gap between a person’s death and canonization. Part of it is because history may reveal, over time, aspects of the person and his ministry that were, well, unsaintly. Part of it, related, is because greatness (and sanctity) is best judged by history and (in the case of a saint, by a lengthy period of miraculous intercessions), outside of the euphoria and political pressures of the moment.
That’s not meant to be a specific judgment on the question one way or the other. But if John Paul II really was “Great,” he’ll still be that way in a few decades. If he’s not, then the title will be an embarrassment (or, worse, a line of division in church politics, which, frankly, seems to be one of the reasons for the push now). And that’s even more true for sainthood.
Time will tell. And we should let it do so.
Very right. The study of history should bestow the virtue of conservatism in judgement. One thing that was never covered in history classes I took in school was how maligned were those who turned out to be “great” in the long run. Also, wouldn’t it be interesting to have a study of people who were short-term popular heroes but turned out to be a flash in the pan?
Not that I’m saying PJPII is either. We’ll know in fifty years or so.
Yeah. Ten to twenty-five years ago, George Lucas was great. Now look.
Well, plenty of people have been called “The Great” in their own lifetimes, but I tend to take it as an aggrandizement rather than an honorific. It would be nice, though, if they waited as long to cannonize the Pope as they did to absolve Galileo of Heresy.
One thing that was never covered in history classes I took in school was how maligned were those who turned out to be “great” in the long run.
A good point.
One thing I *did* learn, all the way back in high school, is that it’s difficult to write relatively objective history for at least 30-50 years after the event. People are too close to the story, still too emotionally and directly involved. There’s great value in primary accounts, but it takes a lot longer to combine the Rashomon elements into a cohesive consensual narrative.
Those of us who live in “America’s Finest City” a name we took on when the city lost a bid to host the 1972 Republican convention. No matter how good or bad your city may be, it can never live up to this phrase.
And now that we are heading toward being “America’s Poorest City,” it makes even less sense.