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

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totality of the yes that [priests] have spoken to the Lord" and made clear that his refusal to release priests from their vows would continue. "Priesthood is forever," he said.

Both homilies, however, illustrated John Paul's peculiar talent for winning personal enthusiasm from people who may disagree with his doctrinal stands by coupling them with positive thoughts. To the Ukrainian-rite Catholics he voiced enough praise of "diversity" within the church to win long applause. To the priests, nuns and seminarians he expressed— an exalted view of the religious life as one of devotion to God and service to humanity. At the end of his talk they stamped, clapped, whistled and sang. Many nuns who had sat stony-faced while John Paul said that women could not be priests joined enthusiastically in the rousing ovation.

John Paul showed the same touch with lay audiences. At his Mass on Logan Circle, he deplored sexual "laxity" but put his remarks in a context of freedom, which he said must not "be seen as a pretext for moral anarchy" but can be truly enjoyed only by those who have "respect for the truth." The Philadelphia crowds were as fervent as any in the U.S. and, as everywhere, included many non-Catholics, who found the Pontiff far more than a touring curiosity. Lois Kukcinovich, a pianist at the New Generation of Disciples of Christ Church in Philadelphia, slept Wednesday night with her clothes on so that she could get out early Thursday to see the Pope. Said she: "The vibrations from him are just wonderful."

Next came America's heartland: Iowa. It was a stop that was not on the Pope's original itinerary. But Joe Hays, 39, a farmer and mechanic in Truro, sent the Pope a handwritten letter inviting him to visit American farm country. John Paul, who grew up in a Poland that was then overwhelmingly agricultural, accepted only five weeks before his U.S. tour was to begin, throwing Des Moines residents into a frenzy of eleventh-hour preparation.

James Ross, a pottery teacher at the Catholic Bowling High School in West Des Moines, worked 110 hours in the last week making vessels for the papal Mass: a chalice, a plate for the Communion bread, a pitcher, a bowl for the washing of hands. Local carpenters crafted an altar and papal chair out of thick oaken beams salvaged from a 100-year-old barn.

Florist Lew Darnell and his wife Mary Kay placed bouquets of Enchantment lilies in vases, part of an enormous floral display. "We postponed our retirement," said Mary Kay. "We were supposed to move to San Diego the first of October, but when we heard the Pope was coming we stayed." To decorate the altar platform, 15 Wisconsin volunteers staged a two-week quilting bee to stitch together a 10-ft. square banner done in burnt orange, sky blue and leafy green.

Like the preparation, the papal visit had an earthy, homespun touch more gentle than the frenzy in the East. The Pope stopped first at the tiny (15 pews) St. Patrick's Church, nestled in rolling farm land near Gumming. "Feel grateful to God for the blessings he gives you," said the Pope, "not least the blessing of belonging to this rural parish community ... May the simplicity of your life-style and the closeness of your community be the fertile ground for a growing commitment to Jesus