“I see.”
“I hope that you do, Holiness. I mean no offense.”
“Of course not”, said the Pope gently.
Elijah listened without moving. A loud silence filled the Pope’s office.
“My son,” said the Pope at last, “leave him.”
“Leave him? Leave whom?” said Vettore startled.
“Go no more to him. Return to your faith.”
“What are you saying? I haven’t left the Faith.”
“He is using you.”
“Who?”
“You do not know what you are doing. I pray to God that you do not know what you are doing.”
“It’s true what they say about you. Your mind is slipping. I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Disentangle yourself.”
“This is absurd! I’ve tried to help you. It’s no use. I’m going.”
“Sit down”, said the Pope. Vettore sat down.
“Break his hold on you. For the sake of your own soul, if nothing else.”
“No one owns me.”
“Not even Christ.”
“What!”
“You think that no one has authority over you, and thus you make yourself vulnerable to the darkest powers of all.”
“You’re raving. This is all in your mind.”
“I know the truth. I adjure you, leave that man.”
“To whom are you referring?”
“Leave the President.”
Vettore did not answer at first. Even at that distance Elijah could hear him breathing loudly.
“I told you last year that those accusations are false. Whoever planted them in your mind is an enemy of Christ.”
“He is a friend of Christ.”
“You believed him.”
“He is not a liar.”
“And I am?”
“At the very least you have been tricked.”
“You have been tricked! Schäfer is a murderer. He is a liar. Why do you take his word against mine?”
“How do you know the name Schäfer? I did not mention it.”
“You told me last year. I’m sure you did.”
“I know that I did not.”
“Of course you did.”
“You are a shepherd of the Church, Cardinal Vettore. The destiny of many people hangs upon your fidelity. Turn away from him. Return! Now, before it is too late.”
“What do you mean by too late?” the cardinal said slowly.
“You see that dossier on my desk. It contains evidence that will shortly be presented to the authorities. The President is responsible for the death of innocent people. He is not the good man you think he is. You must cease to align yourself with him. I do not know how or why you have been seduced into serving his cause, but I believe you can walk away from him without fear.”
“I am not afraid”, said the cardinal coolly.
“God is merciful. Come back to Him.”
“This conversation is becoming tedious. You are an obsessive-compulsive personality, and I will not stand this insult!”
“My son,” said the Pope in a pleading voice, “I am sorry if my words offend you. I do not mean to. But you are in spiritual danger. You are a soul. You are one of my flock. Do not let the wolf drag you from us without resistance.”
Vettore stood up and towered over the pontiff.
“He is not a wolf. He is the one who seeks to bring to the world a peace it has desperately needed.”
“You are saying peace where there is no peace.”
“Peace—real peace—now lies within the grasp of all mankind.”
“The peace of Christ is coming. Do not turn aside chasing after false peace.”
“The peace of Christ is coming? When, I ask you? When? The days drag on, the centuries drag on, and no vision ever comes to anything.”
“The days are at hand and also the fulfillment of every true vision.”
“Who is the wolf? You are the wolf, for you will not permit the flock to graze in the pastures of peace. If men such as you insist on standing in the way of reconciliation, then be forewarned, you will be swept aside.”
“And how will this man of peace sweep me aside?”
“It doesn’t matter how. The survival of the earth depends on his victory. You would dominate the world with your pessimism, your ritualism, your legalism, your refusal to bend before the dynamics of progress.”
“Oh, my son, my son, you are blinded by a beautiful ideal. You are naïve about human nature. Man cannot extricate himself from his own fallen nature. Do you think a President can do it?”
“He will do it.”
“And what will he destroy in the attempt?”
“He is a creator, not a destroyer.”
“And what will he ask of us—that we say the sky is red? A little compromise here, a little there.”
“Only what reasonable people should give to each other: listening to one another’s side, accommodation, negotiation, compromise—it’s not a dirty word, you know.”
“I would a thousand times rather have a persecuted Church than a compromised Church.”
“If you do not step aside, you will get your wish.”
“So you want to spare us that.”
“Of course I do! Do you think I want to see the world running with the blood of Christians? We must survive. We need time to regroup, time to present our case to the world. We can indulge ourselves no longer in pessimistic spiritualities. We can wait no longer for a deus ex machina to be lowered out of the skies. Man must build the City of God.”
“Man cannot build the City of God. The Scripture says that the New Jerusalem will come down from Heaven as a gift from God, after the devastation of the earth by man’s sin and error.”
“Prophecies!” snorted Vettore in disgust. “The world is crawling with rampant imaginings. In the President, destiny has given us an eminently sane human being, one who will build the City of God for us if we won’t build it ourselves He will lead us to worship in spirit and in truth, freed from our ancient mythologies.”
“Now I understand. Now I see the crack through which he has penetrated your mind.”
“It is you who stagger through a smoke-filled dungeon. You have abandoned the heart of religion for a shell, just like the Pharisees before you. You bind up men’s souls with your endless laws.”
“The law is a teacher and a test. If men cannot be faithful in little things, how will they ever be faithful in great things?”
“That is the shell of religion. Where is the heart?”
“What is your definition of the heart?”
“Definitions, definitions! More rationalism! Haven’t we had enough of that? When men are free they will naturally embrace the ways of peace.”
“Is not the heart of religion to love the living Jesus as Savior, as God, and to love one’s neighbor as oneself?”
“I believe in a religion that finds salvation in the world, not above it in a faraway castle in the sky.”
“He is in the world and above it. You continually posit an either / or situation. You say that souls must embrace either an immanent God or a transcendent one, either the heart of religion or the structure of religion. You would have us believe that structures inevitably kill the heart.”
“I rest my case.”
“Your case is superficial, and I am astounded that a man as intelligent as you fails to see it.”
“I am not astounded by you. You are pitifully transparent. You are Dostoevsky’s Grand Inquisitor. You want to rule over a feudal system where everyone bends the neck before your will. That is Phariseeism.”
“Who is the real Pharisee? Do not your rebellious prelates bind up men’s souls by helping them to make their peace with sin, thus rendering them incapable of entering the Kingdom?”
“Sin, sin! Can’t you ever talk about anything else? What about love?”
“Love does not lie. The truth sets us free to love.”
“Don’t you see what a
depression you make in the human psyche?”
“You would relieve man of his anxieties by saying there is no danger? You would relieve him of his feelings of guilt by saying he is not guilty?”
“What is he guilty of? All men are conditioned by their pasts. There aren’t many people on this earth who have committed real sin.”
“You think not?”
“I know it. At the worst, we are all victims of invincible ignorance. We are not culpable. No one really goes to Hell.”
“Who knows the numbers of ignorant who will go to Heaven? Perhaps many. But I tell you one thing for certain: there are many bishops and priests who are going to Hell for creating that invincible ignorance.”
Vettore’s voice rose: “I have called you Holy Father, but I see now that there is nothing holy about you. You are a little man who came to a big throne by accident, and by the naïveté of a consistory that could not read the signs of the times.”
“The times are full of signs. Have you read them aright?”
“You fool!” bellowed Vettore.
A sharp smack cracked like a shot.
“Your time is up, Holy Father”, said the cardinal, bending the last two words with sarcasm.
Another sharp crack sounded. Elijah was locked in immobility.
Under no circumstances reveal yourself or interfere in any way.
Elijah struggled with himself. Then he leapt to the door and looked through the gap, only to see the back of Vettore disappearing into the outer office.
The Pope was on his knees, holding his face in his hands. His reading glasses were askew across his forehead. Droplets of blood fell onto his chest. Elijah fell to his knees, held the old man, and steadied him. The Pope’s body was shaking. His eyes were full of tears, and his upper lip was bleeding.
“He struck you!” said Elijah astonished.
“Yes. It’s all right. It’s all right. Help me up, please.”
Elijah lifted the Pope into his chair and wiped the blood from his face. Two angry welts were rising across his cheeks.
“This is unbelievable. Has he lost his senses?”
“Pray for him, Father. His mind is captive; his soul is very ill. Don’t be angry.”
“Don’t be angry!” Elijah breathed. “He has struck the vicar of Christ!”
“He and many others have been striking me for a long time. Now the darkness becomes visible. Now is the hour for the servant of the servants of God to go with Christ to be glorified.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It had to be this way. He has revealed himself. Now we go to Calvary.”
Elijah stood back and looked down at the Pope, uncomprehending. He rushed to the outer office and met the secretary and the colonel.
“What has happened?” said the colonel. “Cardinal Vettore went out like a storm.”
“He has hit the Pope. Stop him.”
Both men stared at him unbelieving. They rushed into the inner office and surrounded the Pope. After reassuring themselves that he was not badly hurt, they ran out again in pursuit of the cardinal.
Elijah went back to the Pope and went down on his knees.
“I will call a doctor, Holy Father.”
“There is no need for a doctor. But I would like to lie down for a while. I need to pray. The Eucharist is such a consolation to me. The Lord is so beautiful, so beautiful. He deserves so much more from us. We are so poor! Our little hearts are so poor! Love is not loved, Father Elijah, Love is not loved.”
He helped the pontiff to his feet and led him into the bedchamber, lay him down, and pulled a blanket over him.
“Thank you. Thank you. Now let me rest for a while. I’m fine, I’m fine.”
Elijah went to the outer office and stood there not knowing what to do. He waited, pondering the things he had just witnessed, until the secretary returned.
“Well, he has disappeared. This is shocking! What possessed man?”
“Where is the colonel?”
“He went running off to organize security, and I expect to try to track down Vettore. I doubt he’ll catch him.”
“What will you do?” said Elijah.
“What can we do? I suppose the Pope will face the cardinal and demand an apology.”
“Do you really think so?”
“No, you’re right, he won’t. He’s too gentle. He forgives everything.” He sat down shaking his head. “This isn’t happening. This is unreal.”
At which point the colonel stomped back in, looking both furious and bewildered.
“I must see him.”
He went into the Pope’s private chamber and remained there for some minutes. When he came out again, he said to Elijah, “The Holy Father wants you.”
Elijah went in and stood by the bed. The Pope reached up and took his hand.
“I am giving you an obedience. You must do as I tell you and not ask why. It is within the plans of divine Providence, and you must trust in this, even if all should appear to be lost.”
“Whatever it is, Your Holiness. I will serve, however you wish me to serve.”
“Serviam!” the Pope said, smiling at him. He got up slowly from the bed and led Elijah over to the tabernacle.
“Kneel.”
Elijah knelt.
The Pope placed both hands on Elijah’s head and prayed. He removed a silver tube from the pocket of his soutane, opened the lid, and anointed Elijah’s forehead with oil. Then he resumed praying aloud in Latin. Elijah understood what was happening only as the Pope made the final sign of the cross over him.
“Please rise, Bishop Schäfer.”
The Pope embraced him.
“I appoint you titular bishop of Panaya Kapulu.”
Elijah held the Pope’s arms, looking at the floor. Then he raised his eyes and met those of the old man.
“It is too much. I do not know what it is to be a bishop.”
The Pope glanced toward the tabernacle.
“You may discuss your doubts with Him. But I know you will be an obedient servant and accept.”
“I accept, Holiness.”
“You are to be a bishop in pectore, unknown to any save the Lord and a few chosen servants.”
“Where is Panaya Kapulu?”
“It is an ancient See in Asia Minor. It is in the region of Ephesus, where the Church was once great and for centuries has dwindled to almost nothing. A few souls at the most. There may be no one left. It is a few square kilometers of ruins and barren hills—a deserted place.”
“Do you wish me to go there?”
“Yes. You cannot remain in Italy. You must go out into the desert to a safe place and remain there until the appointed time.”
“What will my duties be?”
“You must feed the flock of God amidst many tribulations, my son.”
“With permission, Holiness, I don’t understand. I am to be a shepherd who feeds a flock where there is no flock?”
“The Holy Spirit will reveal your flock to you. From this time forward, my people will be ravaged by wolves. Confusion will cover everything. Doors will be locked and others will open. The foundations will be shaken. Things now standing will fall. The great shall be cast down, and the lowly shall be raised up.”
The Pope sat on his cot and picked up a handbell from his bedside table. He rang it and the secretary promptly entered.
“Please ask the colonel of the Swiss Guard to come in.”
The colonel entered a moment later.
“Colonel, I want you to see that this man leaves Vatican City without being apprehended. Once you are outside Rome give him a staff car and sufficient money for his journey. He must reach Bari and board the ship the Cardinal Secretary has arranged.”
“But Your Holiness! I must ask you to reconsider. That ship stands in readiness for you.”
The Pope turned to Elijah and smiled. “My protectors have arranged several escape routes in the event that Rome becomes unsafe for the pontiff. The Prefect for Doctrine wishes me to go wi
th him to Switzerland. The Secretary of State has argued that I should fly to America if necessary. Others have urged me to take refuge with the Patriarch of Constantinople. The ship at Bari was made ready for the latter purpose.”
He turned back to the colonel. “Would you save me from this hour?”
The colonel looked nonplussed. “It is my duty, Holiness.”
“My friend, you and Saint Peter have much in common. He too wished to save the Lord from His final hour.”
The colonel stammered, at a loss for words.
“Many things must yet come to pass”, said the Pope. “The time is close, but not so close that the Pope must run away at the first sign of danger.”
“In any event,” said the colonel, “the documents Father Schäfer has brought will confound our enemies. I believe we have enough evidence to ensure the security of the Church.”
“With this material we may be able to delay a decisive confrontation. Yet even if the President is brought down, the enemy will raise another like him.”
“Your Holiness, Cardinal Vettore has probably gone to contact the Italian police. If we are to remove Father Schäfer from the Vatican we must make haste.”
“You are right. Go with God, my son”, said the Pope, giving Elijah a final blessing.
They left the bedroom and reentered the papal office. The colonel asked for permission to make duplicates of the dossier on the President, and the Pope urged him to have this done without delay. He named the institutions and officials to whom the copies should be sent, adding that the material should be transported secretly by Vatican couriers.
The colonel picked up the leather envelope and opened it.
“There is nothing here”, he said.
The three men stared at it.
“Cardinal Vettore”, said the Pope.
* * *
On the outskirts of Rome two cars slowed and parked on the shoulder of the highway. The colonel, who was driving the first, turned to his passenger, and handed him a packet.
“Here is a road map and directions to the port of Bari. The ship is called the Stella Maris. She’s a trawler of the Pescatti fishing company and is waiting at anchor. Go to their office at the docks and ask for the captain of the Stella. While you were changing clothes, I called him. He is expecting you.”
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