Gordie and Pope John Paul II
I realise that old folk like myself tend to repeat ourselves.
Younger family members often remind me that I have the habit of repeating stories and anecdotes (tales they have already heard not once but several times) as if these are new stories being told for the first time.
That said, I felt I MUST recount this story because (a) it is topical and (b) it is still (despite many reiterations) a good story. If you have heard it before, please indulge me. I hope it might still evoke a smile or chuckle – or even perhaps a guffaw of laughter.
It was the recent selection of a new Pope to head the Roman Catholic church that reminded me of this story.
Pope Leo XIV is the first Pope born in the United States, the first Pope to be a citizen of Peru, the first Pope who can trace his roots to African, Mulatto and Creole ancestors from Louisana and Spanish Hispaniola. The Catholic Church is slowly changing. For the last few hundred years it has had only Caucasian (mainly Italian) Popes. Although it is probably not yet ready to select a black cardinal to head the church, it has finally selected a man with black ancestors (perhaps better described as a man with a “touch of colour”) to be its head. Perhaps in time to come a future conclave might elect a non-white cardinal from the Philippines or West Africa or even Sri Lanka – but I am afraid that will not happen in my lifetime.
Anyway, the story I am about to recount happened during the visit to Sri Lanka of the much-loved Pope John Paul the Second.
It is said that when the Pope visited Sri Lanka, he was provided with an official car and driver — and the man selected for the task of driving the Pope during his stay here was a Sri Lankan by the name of Gordon de Silva. Having driven the Pope to all his official engagements on the first day, Gordon turned up as instructed early the following morning to drive the Pope to Anuradhapura.
Now Gordon, not being familiar with the protocol of the Catholic church, was not quite certain how he should address the Pope — whether he should say “Your Reverence” or “Your Eminence” or “Your Holiness”. The first time he had to address this honoured guest, he reverently addressed him as “Your Majesty”. The Pope, in his customary charming manner, smiled at Gordon and said “My Son, you don’t have to address me in such formal terms. Just call me John Paul” — to which Gordon politely responded, in his best English, “Thank you, sir. Please call me Gordie.”
While they were driving along the newly built road to Anuradhapura, the Pope was captivated by the beautiful scenery around him. After a while he spoke wistfully to his driver. “Gordie,” he said, “Back home in the Vatican City I have so many cars and chauffeurs — but I never get the chance to drive a car. I haven’t been behind the wheel of a car in years!”
“I was just wondering if it would be possible for me to exchange places with you, so that I can have a chance to drive for a little while along this lovely stretch of road, with the rice fields on either side. Do you think it could be done?”
Now Gordie did not want to disappoint the Pope — but at the same time he didn’t want to lose his job either. But then he thought, it would only be for a short while, and it would certainly make the pontiff happy. It would be a bit of a risk giving the Pope the wheel — but after all, this WAS the Pope, and surely if the Pope didn’t have Friends in high places to protect him, who did?
So Gordie drew the car to the side of the road, got out, opened the door for the Pope, helped him into the driver’s seat and showed him the basic controls. Satisfying himself that the Pope could handle the accelerator, brake and clutch, he got into the back seat and stretched out in comfort to enjoy the ride.
The Pope was thoroughly happy to be behind a wheel again, and soon they were speeding along the road. True, they were going a bit over the speed limit — but Gordie rationalised that they were in good hands.
Things were proceeding smoothly (if a trifle fast) when there loomed in front of them a road block. A police sergeant waved them down. The Pope brought the car screeching to a halt. The sergeant walked up to the car and motioned for the driver to lower the shutter. As he leaned down to look into the car, Gordie said loudly “Just ask the policeman what he wants, John Paul.”
“Leave it to me, Gordie,” replied the Pope. He turned politely to the policeman. “What can I do for you, sergeant?”
The policeman looked intently at the driver, swallowed hard, said “Wait a minute sir” and went back to his guard post. He quickly called his OIC on the radio.
“Sir” he said when his boss answered “podi problem ekak. I have stopped a vehicle for speeding and inside is a beeeg VIP.”
“Who is it?” asked the OIC “is it one of the local MPs? Those fellows are always speeding around as if they own the bloody road.”
“No sir,” replied the sergeant “this is someone bigger than an ordinary MP.”
“Then who have you gone and stopped, men – Mahinda or Ranil?”
“No sir, not them. This is someone more important than them.”
“Oh my god!” exclaimed the OIC, “Have you stopped Madam Chandrika herself?”
“Aiyo no sir, not Madam. She never goes fast – that is why she is always running late. This is someone even more powerful than Madam.”
The OIC was getting a bit worried at this stage. Who could be more powerful than the president?
“I say sergeant, don’t tell me you are trying to book some powerful casino owner or rice mudalali?”
“No sir,” came the reply. “This one is more powerful than even them. Actually as a matter of fact it is God Himself sitting in the back of the car.”
“Are you sure?” queried the incredulous OIC. “How do you know, men, that it is God in the car? Can you see Him?
“Can’t see Him clearly,” said the sergeant, “but I am definitely certain that God is sitting comfortably stretched out in the back seat. He has got the Pope himself as His driver – and the Pope is calling him Gord-ie.”
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