by Paul L Maier
“Who can quarrel with that?” asked Benedict XVI. Then he smiled and said, “Joshua’s suggestions are simply inspired. In fact, I even find them another proof that he is indeed who he claims to be. We’ll observe them all.”
Jon looked at Kevin Sullivan with a glance that all but shouted, “How do you spell relief?”
“Well, my dear friends,” said the pontiff. “We must now ask a very important question, and that is this: ‘Where shall the Council be held?’ The answer, I think, should take all of ten or fifteen seconds . . .”
“The Basilica of Saint Peter, of course.” Jon beamed.
“Where else?” Kevin echoed.
“Agreed,” said the pope. “And what shall we call the Council? This may take as long as twenty seconds . . .”
“I don’t think so, Santìssimo Padre,” said Jon, twinkle in eye. “Wouldn’t you find the Third Vatican Council immensely appropriate?”
“What else?” Kevin laughed.
The Bishop of Rome smiled broadly and said, “Vatican III, Vatican III! It will actually happen, God willing, and in my pontificate after all!”
“Congratulations, Your Holiness!” said Jon.
“Jonathan, I fear that you have a physical handicap: you seem absolutely unable to pronounce the word Benedict!”
Chuckling, the three laid plans for the meeting with the Curia, which was set for one-thirty that afternoon.
Might all the thousands of members of the Curia—the working hierarchy of the Vatican—answer the hasty summons of the Vatican secretary of state, Augustin Cardinal Buchbinder, and be present that afternoon? Not a chance. Some were out of town; some were out of the country; some were not even alerted, since the summons was limited to those leaders of the Curia known as the Famìglia Pontifìcia— the “papal family.”
But quite a family it was, as they all filed into Paul VI Hall, the Vatican auditorium for papal audiences on that steamy afternoon in May: the cardinals and bishops present in Rome at the time for their mandated visits to the Holy See, the higher Curia officials, the secretaries of the sacred congregations, the generals and procurators of the religious orders, consistorial lawyers, palatine prelates, and others. In view of the momentous issue involved, hardly anyone complained about skewed schedules.
The Curia, of course, had taken action on the Joshua issue several days earlier when the pontiff had called it into extraordinary session to report Joshua’s gracious intention to come to Rome. Even though, according to canon law, the supreme pontiff did not require Curia approval for his conference with Joshua, the Curia had approved it anyway as a show of support for their bishop in his epochal encounter. Eighty-six percent of Curia members present had endorsed the meeting, 7 percent had abstained, and 7 percent had opposed it. The last explained to colleagues that they would never have opposed Benedict meeting with the true Jesus: they just could not bring themselves to believe that Joshua was Jesus. Whatever their opinions on the matter, this second meeting of the Curia was to learn of Joshua’s suggestions for his conference with the Bishop of Rome.
As Vatican secretary of state, Cardinal Buchbinder now opened the meeting with invocation and prayer. Then he called on the supreme pontiff. In words of classical clarity, Benedict reminded the Curia of the purpose for their gathering on such short notice, after which he introduced Professor Jonathan Weber. Fortunately for Jon—otherwise one exotic Lutheran fish in a huge Catholic aquar-iumful— he continued to enjoy high credibility with the Curia because of his record at Rama.
Jon’s presentation was simply a reprise of his morning discussion with the pope and his recitation of Joshua’s list-cum-explanations. A large majority in the Curia responded as Benedict had, but a quite vocal conservative minority voiced qualms, opinions, and suggestions of various sorts:
• Monsignor Sullivan was admonished to award one of every two seats at Vatican III to Roman Catholics, as befitted their statistical majority in world Christendom.
• Representatives of non-Christian religions should not be invited to attend.
• None of the limited seats at Vatican III need be “wasted” on representatives of para-Christian sects and cults.
• The invitations to Vatican III ought to come from both Joshua and Benedict XVI.
• The Roman Pontiff should be accorded, if not equal time on the program, then his should be the sole other programmatic voice at Vatican III.
• Roman Catholics should always celebrate the fact that the returned Joshua-Jesus had chosen Catholic Rome as the venue for his address to Christendom.
• Any publications deriving from the conference should be edited and published only by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith.
Jon winced as the list of restrictions grew, and he was particularly nettled at the last: what was now the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith was formerly the austere and legalistic Holy Office.
And Jon was not alone. Benedict XVI, too, grew restless as these proposals were offered. Finally he stood up at the dais and said, with trembling lips: “My beloved brothers in Christ, know this: I will not change one jot or tittle of the gracious suggestions we have received from our returned Master! Nor shall I add to them! Truly, Peter and the apostles said it well: ‘We ought to obey God, rather than men’!”
He paused, took a sip of water, then continued. “On the other hand, several of your suggestions that do not contradict the Master’s requests might be implemented, at least in part. Again, although I am not obliged to ask for this, I solicit your support for my acceding to Joshua Ben-Yosef’s suggestions for Vatican III to the letter, while taking some of your other suggestions into consideration.”
Buchbinder now called the question via voice vote. “All those endorsing the Holy Father’s procedure in this matter, say aye.”
A booming affirmative resonated in the chamber.
“Those opposed?”
Several rather anemic nays were heard.
“Carried. I will now call on Monsignor Sullivan to discuss the many practical matters that must be addressed in preparation for Vatican III.”
Ever since Kevin had first learned that the meeting between Joshua and Benedict would become far more complex than a get-together between two men, his brain had been in a whirl of strategizing. Between his and Jon’s meeting with the pope in the morning and the Curia session in the afternoon, he had gone to the Vatican library to look for a record of how the church had prepared, committeewise, for Vatican II in the 1950s. That conclave had also had a strong, ecumenical aspect, with many non-Catholics present.
He quickly found the record and made a copy. Using it as a template, he crossed out names of committee chairs at the time and replaced them with names of members from the twenty-first-century Curia. So when he appeared at the dais, his presentation on structure and preparation for Vatican III looked as if he had been preparing it the whole previous month.
At the close, he reminded the Curia: “One enormous difference between Vatican II and III is this: we have only a little more than two months to prepare. For Vatican II, they had many. Accordingly, I would beg all chairs to organize their committees immediately. If anyone dislikes any committee assignment, please see me at the dais after we adjourn today.”
“Your Holiness, will you be kind enough to close our meeting with prayer?” asked the secretary of state.
Benedict rose to the microphone on the dais and said, “Into Your hands we commend the Third Vatican Council, O sovereign Lord. You have stood with Your chosen people, Israel. You have sent Your own Son, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, into the flesh to suffer, die, and rise again on our behalf. In Your great mercy, You have undoubtedly sent Him again into our midst in order to refresh His body, the church. May we greet Him worthily! May we hear His gracious words at the Council and be blessed by them so that we can be united in the faith. It is in His holy name that we pray. Amen.”
“Amen!” resounded throughout the hall.
Members of the Curia, touched b
y the prayer, left the chamber silently.
Only one approached the dais, and he was not complaining about committee assignments. It was Pedro Cardinal Gonzales of the Holy Office. Looking intensely at Benedict, Kevin, and Jon, he said, in a wavering voice, “I pray to God that you are right about Joshua Ben-Yosef. If you are wrong, I will pray to God for your very souls!” Then he turned and walked off.
That evening, Jon’s last night in Rome, he and Kevin were enjoying an after-dinner drink at an outdoor restaurant overlooking the Forum. While the Romanized Sullivan had ordered Campari and soda, the Germanic Jon insisted on Peroni beer.
“I’ve just had a déjà-vu attack, Kevin,” said Jon. “We were at this very same restaurant ordering the very same drinks, no less, several years ago at the beginning of the Rama crisis.”
“Almost true, except that you ordered Nastro Azzurro beer rather than Peroni.”
“M’gosh, you’re right! You must be some sort of genius, Kevin. Take your performance on the dais this afternoon in front of the Curia. When did you bone up on all that structural stuff? You stayed up all night working after we returned from the Via Veneto, right?”
“No, I did not. I really didn’t.”
“When, then?”
“Between our meetings with Benedict today.”
“Impossible! We had lunch together.”
“Yes, but there was a little time before and after.”
“Not possible, Kev. You must have been preparing before I even got to Rome.”
“How could I? I didn’t know any of the strings that were attached to Joshua’s visit before then.”
“How in very blazes, then?”
“How shall I put it, Jon? Okay, I’ll admit it: I . . . I fell into a trance and was inspired by God.”
Jon paused several moments, then huffed, “You’re a looney, lying leprechaun, Kev. Do you know that?”
They exploded in laughter before Jon finally wormed the truth out of him. Their small talk turned serious when Kevin asked, “What did you think of Gonzales’s Parthian shot at the dais this afternoon?”
“Frankly, I’m a little surprised that there wasn’t more of that. For most of the time I’ve been negative in this entire Joshua phenomenon, Kev, and for the same reasons we discussed on the drive to Rome. I really think it takes less faith to believe those wonderful biblical accounts that happened two thousand years ago and more faith to believe them when you see them with your own bloody eyes! The ‘scandal of the immediate,’ I call it.”
“Yeah. I can see that.”
“Kevin . . . put the case that—in some sort of wild reversal— Gonzales is right after all, and we’re all wrong, despite the tremendous odds against it. Do we have any sort of fall-back plan? Our investigation panel is still sitting. Nearly all the wind was taken out of their sails by the raising of Shimon, of course.”
“I don’t even know how a fall-back plan would work at this point, Jon. Well . . . except, maybe, for this: in the next couple of weeks, I’ll have to work my rear end off in getting Vatican III to fly. If anything—and I mean anything—comes up over there that calls anything into question about Joshua Ben-Yosef, you’ve got to get through to me and the Holy Father pronto. If you can’t get through on the phone, use e-mail. If you can’t send a long e-mail, cut it down to, say, one lousy phrase. Or even a Bible passage, like . . . hmmm . . . like James 1:16.”
“Which is?”
“‘Don’t be deceived, my dear brothers’ . . .”
“Aha! Right on target! Better tell Benedict about that too. Once again, you can quote the Bible as if you wrote it, Kevin! You know, you’re a remarkable fellow . . . one day, quite probably, you’ll be the first American pope! If so, please ‘remember me when you come into your kingdom’.”
TWENTY
The announcement from Rome that there would be a Third Vatican Council ignited worldwide enthusiasm. Christians of all stripes were delighted at the broad ecumenical nature of the planned conclave, despite its Catholic-sounding name. The fact that Joshua-Jesus himself would be addressing the Council made for an additional frenzy of anticipation.
In Rome, Kevin Sullivan was flitting from committee to committee, his hot breath on the necks of all committee chairs. Nearby, the Sistine Chapel Choir started rehearsing the best in sacred music. Inside the vast reaches of St. Peter’s Basilica, workmen were erecting huge risers along the sides of the entire nave of the basilica, as they had for Vatican II, increasing its seating capacity to a total of ten thousand. But with more than two billion Christians in the world, only one out of every two hundred thousand would be able to attend. As Joshua had directed, these seats would go to world Christian leaders on a proportional basis related to the size of their church bodies.
But the rest of the public would not be denied. Vatican III and its preparation dominated most morning, midday, and evening radio and television news programs in the scant weeks prior to its opening. The national and international TV networks also planned complete coverage of the ecumenical council, all of them promising viewers that they would air Joshua’s opening address live.
Meanwhile, theologians everywhere were speculating as to what Joshua would say to Christendom, and just how he proposed to revive the cause of Christianity across the world. Might he conceivably summon his followers to arms? Would he meet the challenge of Islam by announcing a new crusade of some sort? Would he cut through the tangled knot of denominationalism and define, once and for all, what were “the true doctrines” of Christianity and condemn those that were in error? Would he spell out clearly whether or not infants should be baptized? And how much water is necessary in the rite? Or whether or not he was truly present in Holy Communion? Would he identify the best form of church government— episcopal or congregational? And, in particular, might he supply new hints as to when the end times would actually begin?
The religion coverage on NBC, CBS, ABC, Fox, CNN, and other networks increased exponentially in the short time available. On Sundays, as usual, there was good religious programming and there was bad. The Billy Graham/D. James Kennedy/David Mainse–style evangelicals supplied typically responsible fare, acclaiming what was doubtless the return of Jesus without trying to squeeze extra contributions from their followers “for this great celebration.”
The bigots, however, were having their usual field day, with pulpit-pounding, chancel-prancing, redneck-revivalist divines declaring that Joshua “will soon denounce the pope as the Antichrist within his own idolatrous temple.” Prophecy fanatics were announcing new interpretations of the book of Revelation by the day, among them, of course, Melvin Morris Merton. But he got so excited during one address that he passed out on the platform from hyperventilation and had to spend several days in the hospital.
Meanwhile, the authors of prophecy best-sellers were madly reediting their previous works in order to correct mistaken predictions from the past and make them focus instead on Joshua-Jesus and his return. Worse, their publishers encouraged them in this mendacity! Clearly, such trivial items as ethics, honesty, and integrity went by the board where the corporate bottom line was concerned.
Israel, of course, was the very eye of the religious hurricane sweeping the globe, and, like its stormy counterpart, it seemed less turbulent. Some of the hordes of frustrated pilgrims, in fact, were now switching their destinations to Italy in hopes of seeing Joshua there.
The day after his return to Israel, Jon delivered to Joshua the pope’s enthusiastic letter of response to his planned visit to Rome. Quickly they established a date for the opening of Vatican III. It would begin on Sunday, July 15, with no closing date specified. Joshua planned to attend only the first week, after which he would return to Israel while delegates would pursue his directives over the following months.
Almost daily, Jon was on the phone with Kevin Sullivan, coordinating the arrangements between Jerusalem and Rome. Yes, Kevin had been in touch with Alitalia, and—just as Joshua had predicted— the Italian national airline was over
flowing with joy at being privileged to supply all air transportation. Their corporate jets would not be large enough for Joshua and his entourage, so an entire Boeing 757 would be put at their disposal.
“Not bad, eh, Jon?” Kevin chortled on the phone.
“Nice work! Twenty centuries ago, the only free transportation Jesus got was a donkey, you’ll recall!”
“Right! But I forgot to tell you: Joshua goes by air; you have to come by donkey. So you’d better saddle your a—ah, donkey and start out a month earlier.”
“Now who spouts the bad humor?”
“Sorry, couldn’t resist! But, Jon, guess what my two biggest problems have turned out to be in setting this all up.”
“What?”
“The first is proper protocol, I mean, even in getting all the titles straight. Take the Patriarch of Constantinople, the Eastern Orthodox primate and spiritual leader of 350 million Orthodox across the world. You have to get his titles exactly right, of course: ‘His All Holiness Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew II, Archbishop of Constantinople and New Rome.’ And if you want more: ‘The 271st Successor to the Apostle Andrew.’”
“Good to know, Kev,” said Jon, with something less than conviction. “What’s the other problem?”
“The screaming from those who didn’t get invited! You can’t believe the number of requests—even from the top hierarchies of the major denominations, for ‘just three more reservations’ and the like.”
“Predictable. How are you handling it?”
“Wait: it gets worse—something we hadn’t even thought of . . .”
“Atheists demanding equal time?”
“No, political representation at Vatican III, the heads of state and their retinue who want to attend! We didn’t have that problem with Vatican II, but since the Lord himself will be there, everyone wants in! I learned that the hard way when the British ambassador to the Vatican stopped by my office and requested 120 tickets for Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II, and her party.”
