Quite striking is the similarity between the warm response to Pope John XXIII half a century ago and to Pope Francis today. Both aroused enormous interest and broke through the gilded cage of outdated conventions and stereotyped expectations. Both stepped over barriers of ideology or religion to evoke bonds of a common humanity committed to promoting the wellbeing of all people, especially the poor and marginalised.
The contexts were of course quite different. The avuncular John became pope following the slow decline of the war-time pope, Pius XII, when the Cold War was at its height. As Peter Hebblethwaite described in his wonderful 1984 biography, John XIII: Pope of the Council, John played a role in allowing Soviet Premier Khrushchev to back down during the Cuban Missile Crisis in October 1962.
Francis on the other hand comes from a developing country with acute problems of poverty and injustice. He lived through the 'dirty war' in Argentina, when 30,000 people were killed, including 150 priests, and even nuns. Because of his close involvement with slum dwellers, he was appalled at the workings of the international economy that tolerates such widespread social injustice and inequality. He is particularly critical of the GFC, and calls for thorough-going economic reforms to ensure outcomes are socially just and equitable.
Yet it was John XXIII who was the first pope to focus detailed attention on issues of world development, in his 1961 encyclical, Mater et Magistra. He was writing following the rebuilding of western Europe with the aid of the Marshall Plan, and when there was renewed optimism that such rapid development could transform poorer countries. The Alliance for Progress between the United States and Latin America was under way.
These promising hopes were greatly undermined by the Cold War struggles and political movements in many developing countries, and the world soon teetered on the brink of nuclear war.
John initiated the Second Vatican Council in 1962, and was guiding it to engage more strongly with these great social issues of the day. He was alert to the issues of war and peace and, when he realised he was dying, issued an encyclical on peace, Pacem in Terris, encapsulating his views and setting markers for the Council to follow.
He had been a stretcher bearer during the First World War, so knew the carnage and slaughter of war, with the immense toll of human suffering and the consequences for families and nations.