Every person is shaped by the nation of their birth, but some are so deeply rooted in their homeland that they become inseparable from it. John Paul II was one such figure. His life, mission, and papacy cannot be understood apart from Poland — just as Socrates cannot be understood apart from Athens. To truly grasp John Paul II’s vision, one must engage with Polish history, literature, and culture. His identity as a son of the Church was inextricably tied to his identity as a son of Poland.
My journey with Poland began over a decade ago when I traveled there to marry my wife whom I met while studying at the Pontifical John Paul II Institute in Washington, D.C. Though I had studied John Paul II extensively in graduate school, it was only by immersing myself in Poland—its history, its people, its language, and its landscape—that I truly began to understand him. And this is more than merely eating lots of periogi, paczki, and kremowki or correctly pronouncing “dzien dobry” or “jak sie masz”.
After arriving in Warsaw airport, my first stop was to Podlasie, the northeast corner of Poland. My wife is from this rustic region of the country. Podlasie literally means “under the forest.” And you get a good sense of that when you enter the dense Scots Pine forests that shroud the land. For many Westerners, Polish history is shrouded in mystery. Our history books tend not to include Polish history, and if they do it is only at the bare minimum, which is regrettable because of Poland’s rich heritage.
Upon getting married, my wife and I journeyed across Poland. We stopped in Warsaw for a day or two before traveling to Czestochowa and pray before the famous Icon of Our Lady. This was quite meaningful for us because we were engaged a year earlier in the Our Lady of Czestochowa chapel in the U.S. National Shrine in Washington D.C, a chapel that in mosaics wall displays the rich history of Poland.
Our ultimate destination was Krakow, Poland’s cultural capital. Spending time in this great city acquainted me with John Paul II more than any book. Finally, I was walking the footsteps of my favorite saint, seeing the same things that he saw every day and likely shaped his vision of Polish and ecclesial renewal.
Ten years later, my wife and I now live near Krakow. Every morning on my way to work I walk by Wawel, Poland’s royal hill. Typically, I stop and think that John Paul II did the same each day—he lived at the foot of the hill for twenty years as auxiliary bishop and then archbishop of Krakow (1958-1978). John Paul II was ordained a priest on Wawel in 1946.
For Poles, this “Polish Pantheon” is a symbol of hope, a sign of the resurrection of national consciousness. It holds the crypt of Polish kings and national heroes. And it is a symbol of cultural renewal. This is artistically expressed by one of John Paul II’s favorite Polish modernist artists, Stanisalw Wyspianski (1869-1907).
Living at a time when Poland was still partitioned, Wyspianski foresaw the nation’s spiritual and cultural revival. He represented this in his art. One of his famous paintings shows Wawel emerging from the fog and illuminated by divine light, symbolizing the resurrection of Polish identity. This vision resonated deeply with John Paul II, who saw his papacy as part of a providential mission to restore faith, not just in Poland, but in the world. The same divine light that Wyspianski painted over Wawel was the light John Paul II carried to the church in the 20th century and into the Second Millenium. Prof. Andrzej Szczerski, director of the National Museum of Krakow, says that the divine light suggests that Wyspianski believed divine providence would bring about the “reawakening of the history hidden in the castle.” And within Wawel Cathedral is another Stanislaw who has played a central role in Polish history: St. Stanislaw of Szczepanow, Poland’s patron saint.
The Polish Romantic poet Juliusz Slowacki’s prophesied the coming of a Slavic pope in his 1848 poem The Slavic Pope. There is speculation that John Paul II, the first Slavic pope, considered taking the name “Stanislaus I” in honor of St. Stanislaw of Szczepanow, the 11th-century bishop of Krakow martyred for opposing royal tyranny. Whether or not he truly debated this choice, the symbolism is undeniable . St. Stanislaw, much life John Paul II, stood against oppression and called his people to moral renewal. The connection between the two figures reinforces John Paul II’s identity as a defender of faith and freedom.
To truly understand John Paul II, one must enter the heart of Poland—its history, its poetry, its national struggles and triumphs. Poland shaped him, just as he shaped the modern Church. As Wyspianski foresaw the reawakening of Wawel, John Paul II foresaw the renewal of the faith across the world. His life was not just a product of history, but a fulfillment of it. For those who seek to grasp the depth of his mission, there is no better place to begin than in Krakow, where his footsteps still guide the way.
