A simple, humble worker in the vineyard of the Lord.

“It was like a retreat.” That is how I described the six days, off and on, that I spent with Pope Benedict XVI as he reached out and touched in faith tens of thousands of faithful who came to the Eucharistic Celebrations and other prayer gatherings, as well as the millions who viewed him on TV.

Often one hears that watching on TV is not the same as being at the event. While I believe this is true, I was amazed at the way in which TV viewers of our Holy Father spoke of being moved, even to tears, on occasions. I joined the ranks of TV viewers as I watched his quiet and powerful presence at ground zero. Our Holy Father paused — not for a perfunctory moment of silence — but for a deeply engaged time of silent prayer.

I was reminded of the times I have spent at a silent retreat when, though not a word is spoken at adoration or at a silent meal, there is a bond with those around you. I felt that bond with our Holy Father and sensed that many other viewers in our nation felt that same bond at that precious moment.

On April 25 three years ago, I wrote a column for the Catholic newspaper in Knoxville and focused on the words of our Holy Father as he began his ministry as the vicar of Christ and successor of St. Peter, calling himself “a simple, humble worker in the vineyard of the Lord.” This phrase found an echo in his journey to visit us and came through very explicitly on two occasions.

At the end of the Mass for priests and religious at St. Patrick’s Cathedral on Saturday morning, he movingly spoke off-script in thanks for the many acts of kindness shown him and called himself “this poor shepherd of Christ.” This same humble and self-effacing pope showed it again later on Saturday in a more playful way when, on finishing his homily to the 25,000-plus youth gathered on the grounds of St. Joseph Seminary in Dunwoodie (or at least thinking he was finished), he stood to hand his notes to his secretary, only to be reminded that he still had a brief homily in Spanish prepared. When reminded, he simply sat back down, smiled and announced, “I forgot to say my words in Spanish!” The magic of that unscripted moment was not lost on the crowd.

This humble demeanor (he seemed, like Blessed Teresa of Calcutta in her visits, almost oblivious to the crowd) might account for his ability to courageously speak about and even proclaim truth, at times difficult truths, in a forthright way. He addressed these truths as a litany: a call to remain faithful to our beliefs and to resist making our religion a private matter. He named the past incidences of sexual misconduct “a great shame;” he constantly beckoned us to defend all human life, from conception to natural death; and he called all nations at the U.N. to seek a lasting and just peace that does not exclude the involvement of the poor and less powerful nations in the world.

Many ask about the effect of his journey. We Americans are good at the practical and usually demand it immediately. In the coming months we will have opportunities to return to this question.

For now I invite us, like Mary, the Mother of Jesus, to reflect on sacred Scripture and ponder these things in our hearts.

I, for one, already feel both the calm and the spiritual energy in the three-fold call for unity, renewal and hope as we reach out to the world. In the month of May, devoted to our Blessed Lady, we savor this spiritual experience and ask the Lord to guide us. That is usually what happens when we go on a retreat.