The Pope In America: It Was Woo-hoo-woo

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could make seem charming. He addressed 60,000 at Shea Stadium in four of the seven languages he speaks with facility— English, Spanish, Italian and of course, Polish (French, Latin and German are the other three) and drew applause by simply pronouncing place names with theatrical timing, greeting the crowds "from Long Island— and New Jersey— and Connecticut [pronouncing all three c's]— and [long pause] Broke-leen."

At the U.N., where Arab and Jewish diplomats jostled with all the rest to see him, John Paul showed his intellectual side, his 61-minute speech ranged over a variety of topics tied together tightly by sequential reasoning. The headline-catching bits — an assertion that overall peace in the Middle East must include "a just settlement of the Palestinian question," a call for a "special statute" to assure the preservation of Jerusalem as a city holy to the Christian, Jewish and Muslim faiths — were really incidental notes.

John Paul's main theme was that peace is threatened by any violation of human rights anywhere, and that the U.N. can fulfill its peace-keeping mission only if it remembers and applies its own 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights. The Pope also denounced the arms race ("The continual preparations for war ... mean taking the risk that some time, somewhere, somehow, someone can set in motion the terrible mechanism of general destruction"). He prayed that "every kind of concentration camp any where on earth may once and for all be done away with" and condemned "the various kinds of torture and oppression, either physical or moral, carried out ... under the pretext of internal 'security' or the need to preserve an apparent peace."

The delegates listened in total silence. From many, no doubt, the silence reflected only respect and attention, but it may also have signified irritation from some — the delegates of countries that maintain concentration camps and practice torture in the name of security. This Pope does not shrink from telling people what they do not want to hear. Said New York Senator Daniel P. Moynihan, a former U.S. Ambassador to the U.N.: "I can attest from having watched that the Eastern European and Soviet delegates knew exactly what he was talking about, and for once in that chamber, looked fearful rather than bored."

The emotional high points of John Paul's New York stay were a Tuesday evening Mass in Yankee Stadium and the Wednesday morning youth rally at Madison Square Garden. A crowd of 75,000 waited impatiently at Yankee Stadium, occasionally cheering a white-mitered bishop whom they mistakenly thought to be the Pope. John Paul finally appeared, 45 minutes late, in his white "Popemobile" (a rebuilt Ford Bronco truck) that slowly circled the field as the standing Pope extended his arms, first to one side, then the other, in blessing. People far out of his range of vision in the upper stands felt impelled to wave back, as if the Pope were greeting them alone.

The rhythmic clapping and popping of thousands of camera flashbulbs like fireflies throughout the stadium made John Paul seem less a religious figure than a Hollywood celebrity. But his sermon was the exact opposite of rock-concert hedonism. It was a warning against "the frenzy of