TRILOGY: Bk I, Ch 39 (Jackass for the Hour)

Nurtured by the fire

“Oh dear Lord…” prayed Father Alexámenos, taken aback as they entered the convent.

“Your Holiness, Libero has been here before us,” said padre Emet.

“He must be dead,” the Pontiff replied, referring to don Hash.

“But we do not know that,” padre Emet replied.

They were staring at the tapestry of Christ, preaching the Beatitudes, hanging on the wall next to them. It bore stains of the body of don Hash, and had been charred itself by the flames it had smothered on Good Friday. The Ring of the Fisherman given to don Hash by way of padre Emet was attached to the corner of the tapestry. It had been damaged by the flames which had engulfed don Hash, though not enough to destroy the relic of the Cross, which don Hash had grasped and effectively protected when he fell, burning. The Pontiff took it and gave it to Father Alexámenos.

“Obviously, Libero did not think he was alive,” said the Pope.

Cardinal Fidèle, seeing this, mumbled to no one in particular that he was worried about Carpe Diem and his mother, not having seen them earlier that day.

Father Alexámenos could still hear the death chant when don Hash had been burning: “The blasphemy will not be forgotten! Burn the jackass! The hour has come!” He repeated a favourite prayer of don Hash, “Fidelium animæ, per misericordiam Dei, requiescant in pace.”

Mother Bernadette joined them just then, saying, “Resurrexit, sicut dixit! Alleluia! Alleluia! He has risen as He said!”

“Surrexit Christus vere! Alleluia! Alleluia! He has truly risen” most of them answered.

“Your Holiness, come this way, please,” requested Mother Bernadette.

As they started to follow her, Father Alexámenos grabbed the arm of the Pontiff and shushed them all, asking, “Don’t you hear the Muslims chanting their death chant?”

Cardinal Fidèle, not hearing anything but the helicopters, asked, “What death chants?”

“Not all Muslims are terrorists,” said the Pope, eliciting the answer he knew would come.

“But Islam, Muhammad and his Allah, the Qur’an, countless Imams and Islamic political leaders do push terrorism with their horrific bribe-the-deity child-sacrifices,” replied Father Alexámenos. “Of course, few Muslims know about what Muhammad really had to say in the Qur’an.”

“Yes,” said the Pontiff, turning to Father Alexámenos. “We need to instruct them – and reconfirm Catholics – about true Revelation.”

Mother Bernadette led Pope Tsur-Ēzer to a table with a fews sheets of vellum and a pen.

“But how did you know?” the Pontiff asked her rhetorically, sitting down and taking up the pen.

The risen Christ was all but visibly present, as if they could reach out and touch Him like the once doubting Thomas had done, putting their fingers into the nail wounds in His hands, and then their hands into the wound that the spear made in His side… feeling His still pierced Heart beating… alive… learning to take His lead.

Pope Tsur-Ēzer started writing, purposely reciting out loud, now and again, what he wrote. He began by saying, “Sublatis erroribus…” indicating the title of the bulla and what to expect.

“Errors having been removed…” Mother Bernadette translated, adding, “I’ll bring my sealing lead and some scarlet cord.” The Pope did not respond. He hardly seemed to be aware of the others around him, so intense was he in his writing.

When Mother Bernadette left, the others began speaking about the risen Christ, except Cardinal Fidèle, who, ignoring them, made a statement which expressed a lifetime of misunderstanding. Just as he made his comment, Mother Bernadette appeared at the door with the sealing lead and cord. “The nuns were shielded from these days,” he said. “Doing nothing pays off. They have so much time…”

“Yes, we must speak of the relative relativity of time,” said Mother Bernadette, making the Cardinal straighten up in his wheelchair, speechless at his own rudeness, and sorely tempted to remove the bandages over his eyes. She quietly left the room so as to bring in the nuns who would help her carry the tea and biscuits. When they entered, Father Alexámenos gasped, and the Holy Father, without lifting his head or stopping to write, asked on his behalf, “Where is Jacinta?”

“We buried her on Good Friday,” replied Mother Bernadette. “She was given the Last Rites. She made her profession of vows, taking the name Fātimah of the Most Holy Trinity.”

“Nurtured by the Fire of the Most Holy Trinity,” said Father Alexámenos, choked up. “She raced the good race. She will pray for us from heaven…” Finding a chair to sit in off to the side, Father Alexámenos sat down, buried his face in his hands, and quietly wept.

“Her holy death,” continued Mother Bernadette, “her longing to go home to heaven was…”

“The triumph of the risen Lord,” concluded the Holy Father, continuing his writing, “Who brings us out of this exile into our heavenly homeland. We will pray for the repose of her soul.”

Cardinal Fidèle quietly said, “O Lord, how stupid I am…” He then said with full voice, “Mother Bernadette, please, forgive my insensitive remarks. I did not realise you heard me. I did not know that Jacinta… Sister Fātimah… has… Alexámenos… I am sorry.” The Prelate was only beginning to realise that he had been pushing people all his life so as to test their fidelity in order to edify himself, and so find a way out of his hell. This time it wouldn’t be too easy to destroy Faith.

“Sister Fātimah professed her vows on Holy Thursday evening, In Cena Domini,” she replied. “She died that very hour. Her highest ‘quality of life’ was during that hour of intercession. It was her time to be busy with the one thing necessary.”

“Thank you, Mother,” said the Cardinal, “for your reference to the story of Martha and Mary.”

The flatness of his comment wasn’t enough. For his sake, and in honour of Sister Fātimah, Mother Bernadette pressed on: “A Dutchman once said that we nuns are shielded, have nothing to do, and have much time on our hands. He congratulated us on taking Einstein’s theories of energy, relativity and time, combining them and turning them upside-down and back to front: Doing nothing creates much time!” This set Cardinal Fidèle at ease, though he did not understand what she said. “Conversely,” she continued, “the one who does much has no time; the present, for him, exists only as a reaction to the past in fear of the future.”

“Like a rat race,” Eliyahu, now Yehezqēl, interjected, proud of his command of American sayings he had picked up from Father Alexámenos while at San Lorenzo in Fonte.

“Yes. When a rat attempts to race from one place to another, it sticks its nose in everything, never getting where it is going,” replied Mother Bernadette. “It has too much to do and no time to do what it wants. It is a problem of doing everything except the one thing necessary.”

“It’s a good thing we’re not rats,” said Ben David.

“Jackasses, maybe,” added Father Alexámenos, lightening the conversation.

“But Mother…” said Cardinal Fidèle. “Surely, you do not mean nothing when you say nothing. Save me from my misperceptions! How could doing nothing create much time? How does one escape the relativism time presents? Your nothing must amount to more than nothing.”

“Nothing, and proud of it,” she said. “We boast of our weaknesses, as Saint Paul says.”

Despite his bandages, she could see that this answer adversely affected him, not knowing the similarity of the first part of her answer to that of Cardinal Froben so many weeks before. She continued: “You are right, of course, your Eminence. Although the spiritual life is full of life – the adoration, the praise, the thanksgiving, the intercession, the union in Charity with God and man – nevertheless, the more one lives life, reality, in abundance, the more one knows that this is brought about by God’s presence alone, by sanctifying grace…”

“Misericordiae Domini manent in aeternum,” said padre Emet.

“Yes, the mercies of the Lord remain forever,” repeated Mother Bernadette for the sake of those who did not know Latin. “And, because of that,” she continued, “the only thing truly our own, our sin, does not remain forever, at least for some of us. Either we cooperate with God’s will to save us, or we don’t. There is no middle ground. In that sense, the more we do nothing of our own, the more we create time, for it is then that we know ourselves to be formed into the timeless, necessarily omni-present Charity that God is… and this in the midst of the very circumstances which constitute the staging of time. Relativity, the circumstantial dissipation you had once thought was brought about by the very passage of time, does not control the person who is united to the Creator of time. Instead, ad maiorem Dei gloriam, we are, in the would-be relativity and death of time, brought to life, into an eternal, unbreakable union with God and man, through, with and in the one God-man, Christ Jesus. He came from eternity into time, incarnate, to be torn to shreds in time, but not dissipated. Having been lifted up on the Cross, He does draw all – of whatever time – to Himself. Mercy gives us God’s perspective. Mercy answers all would-be relativity. Instead of shielding one from reality, mercy immerses one into time and into God. Sister Fātimah knew mercy and knows mercy still.”

“So then,” concluded Cardinal Fidèle, “doing everything necessitates that one be in eternity, ‘when’ there is, in fact, no time at all, ‘when’ there is only ‘forever’, and ‘when’ all activity flourishes with this one thing necessary, union with God and man.”

“As was said in a homily I once heard,” said Mother Bernadette, eternity is not lived so much with progression of time as depth of being. It is fear of free will that is the source of destructive relativity. But love of God and neighbour conquers this fear. Either one sees everything through a hermeneutic of discontinuity, rupture, suspicion, creating for oneself the appearance of the relativity of time, or one sees things from a perspective which redefines time as a tool used by our Lord for our sanctification and unity with Him and each other. In this communion, relativity is thwarted, transformed even, for our good and God’s glory.”

Cardinal Fidèle humbly replied, “Mother, I cannot see…”

“In libris scriptis et sine scripto traditionibus…” continued the Pontiff for him, still writing.

“In written books and unwritten traditions,” repeated Mother Bernadette. She then replied to Cardinal Fidèle, saying, “Like every member of Christ’s faithful, the thing about nuns is that we live in time even while beginning to do everything, the one thing necessary, beginning to step into eternity by way of sanctifying grace, embracing all people of all places and, your Eminence, of all times, even if it seems we live hardly longer than an hour.”

“I am at a loss, Mother,” he said. “What is this hour of intercession, of mercy, of the one thing necessary? Why is mercy like doing nothing and everything at the same time?”

“Spiritu Sancto dictante quasi per manus traditæ…” said the Pontiff, absorbed in writing.

“Dictated by the Holy Spirit, are handed on almost as if by hand,” repeated Mother Bernadette.

“Mother?” Cardinal Fidèle insisted, not thinking the words of the Pope were meant for him.

“But your Eminence,” she replied, “Christ sees the Father in heaven for us, His Body, and the Father sees us in His Son; it is when Christ was lifted up on the Cross that…”

Father Alexámenos interrupted, repeating, “Don’t you hear the death chants of the Muslims?”

•••—•••—•••

Order was breaking down in front of the Basilica. Ever since don Hash had been burnt, the death chant – “The blasphemy will not be forgotten! Burn the jackass! The hour has come!” – was still ringing in the ears of many, even literally, for the words could be heard on the street from that time onward, and could be heard again now, from a large group in front of the Basilica. Ignoring them was the best crowd-control measure. The result was that the crowds inside the Basilica were told that they would have to be patient, that they could not leave immediately. The plan was unfolding like clockwork. Little by little, however, more severe violence started to erupt outside, firstly against the pataccari, as they were pejoratively called, and the Sanpaolini, who, as volunteers at the Basilica, looked harmless and official. The Sanpietrini and even the Swiss Guards and Vatican Police were also sporadically attacked.

Inside, near Bernini’s sculpture of Pope Alexander VII – where an exit opened into the Vatican Gardens – there was still a large crowd of diplomats. This was ‘their’ exit. Each had a car waiting outside, but the diplomats were intensely discussing what was to be done in a post-pandemic era regarding the chaos that now held sway with utilities, the military, medical facilities, banking… So involved was this discussion that it gained the attention of those providing security in that part of the Basilica. No one was paying attention to the fact that there was a shift in the crowd inside the Basilica as the Muslims moved closer to that exit.

•••—•••—•••

Cardinal Fidèle said, “Mother, tell me about the vocation of Sister Fātimah.”

But Mother Bernadette insisted, saying, “It is when Christ was lifted up on the Cross that…”

But the Cardinal objected: “Sister Fātimah was only with you for an hour… so when you speak of Christ being lifted up on the Cross… what is this to me and to you?”

“Ti emoi kai soi,” repeated Mother Bernadette, seconded, then, by Pope Tsur-Ēzer in first century Palestinian Aramaic as a hint to Cardinal Fidèle.

“I didn’t intend to pose the question of Satan to Jesus through the legion of demons possessing the man who lived among the tombs,” replied Cardinal Fidèle.

“Your question is not that of Satan to Jesus,” said Mother Bernadette, “but of Jesus to His mother at the wedding they attended in Cana of Galilee.”

“The same question is, in fact, used by Satan to Jesus and, then, by Jesus to His mother,” observed Cardinal Fidèle, wondering where this was going.

“In answering the question, you will understand the vocation of Sister Fātimah… and your own. It is this story she read in the Gospels to strengthen her assent to the Faith by God’s grace. It said much to her about The Marriage that is the Sacrifice of the Mass. In this way, you will find a way out of your perception of the relativity of time. It will be an occasion for you to begin to understand what it is that grace is working within you, even while we live upon this earth.”

“But when Jesus asked this question of His mother – What is this to Me and to you?” – objected Cardinal Fidèle, “it referred merely to the fact that the wine for the wedding which they were attending had run out. What is so important about that wedding? Was it not like any other?”

“I see you come to the point handily,” she replied. “Therefore, your Eminence, I am sure that you will be able tell me the answer yourself.”

A wave of déjà vu again swept over Cardinal Fidèle, not knowing the knack Mother Bernadette had of sizing up people and dealing with them by utilising the language she thought they would understand.

“I suppose you mean,” said the Cardinal, “that celebrating a wedding in the presence of the Lord is worth the worry, or that any wedding is important to the mission of Jesus upon this earth.”

“As you point out, your Eminence, matrimony is the state of life in which, or in view of which, people will find themselves being lost or saved unto eternity, whether or not they are actually married. But your Eminence, our Lord guided the answer of His mother, saying, of all things, My hour has not yet come. Why would He do that?”

“Perhaps He was saying that He had something even more important to do,” said the Cardinal.

“So, do you contradict yourself about the importance of matrimony?” she asked.

“I suppose, then, Mother…” he began, hesitating, trying to think clearly. After a full half minute, he started again: “I suppose that Jesus’ mission upon this earth was to restore to us the image of God in which we were made, revealing just how it is that this image is a man, a woman and children, the family. In restoring this to us, He lifted us far beyond this, making us the children of God, the family of God. But, Mother, what does this have to do with any hour?”

“For someone who has written so much on time, your Eminence, I must say that you have not given much time to the usage of the word ‘hour’ in the Gospels.”

“I avoided this,” said the Cardinal, “telling myself that the philosophical problems of Augustine, which I wrote about – as you seem to know – were not to be read back into the Gospels.”

“But it is not just a philosophical problem!” exclaimed Mother Bernadette. “No one is reading anything back into the Gospels. Augustine is writing about time from God’s point of view…”

“But how can he do that?” interrupted Cardinal Fidèle. “He is a man, not God… This hour in the Gospels is nothing more than the passage of sixty…”

“You haven’t been listening, Fidèle,” interjected Pope Tsur-Ēzer, distracting himself from his writing. “It is an hour when Christ draws all to Himself, when He is wed to His Bride, the Church, with His wedding vows of complete self-giving, ‘This is My Body, being given for you… This is My Blood, being shed for you…’ This is the hour of Mary’s intercession. She was right to intercede for the celebration of that wedding at Cana in view of the hour when the Son of God wed His Bride, the Church. It is an hour when we drink of the New Wine, His Precious Blood. It is an hour to keep watch and pray, an hour in which the Son of Man prays for the Chalice of vicarious suffering to pass from Him, but drinks from it, an hour in which He is betrayed into sinner’s hands, an hour in which James and John… and Peter… myself, have fallen asleep…”

“An hour…” continued Mother Bernadette, “when Jesus is glorified and glorifies the Father, the hour for which He came, the hour of His purpose, the hour from which the Father does not want to ‘save’ Him, the hour when He loves those who are His own in the world right to the end, the hour when the flock is scattered, leaving Him quite alone, except for the Father, the hour when He is crucified and cries out, in intimate union with His Father, ‘My God! My God! Why have you abandoned Me?’ It is an hour when the Apostles abandoned Him, an hour when He speaks plainly of the Father, when the dead hear His voice and live, the hour when those who worship, do so in Spirit and in Truth, an hour in which the Paraclete teaches us all things, an hour of persecution and judgment of persecutors, an hour when the children of God are martyred by those who think that what they do in killing the beloved of God is the very worship of God…”

“It is the hour of the Eucharistic Wedding Banquet,” said Ben David, “prepared by the continuous analogies in the Jewish Scriptures of the marriage between God and His Chosen People. It is the hour when the Old Covenant is fulfilled in the New, when Mary, the Woman of Genesis 3,15, is pitted against the Serpent, the great Dragon, the ancient Serpent, the Devil, Satan, the Deceiver of the whole world, whose head is crushed by the “Seed” of the Woman, she, who is the daughter of the Father, the spouse of the Holy Spirit, the Immaculate, Virgin Mother of the Word Incarnate, the Mother of Mercy, of the Church, the Mother of the Family of Faith…”

“It is the hour when hearts of stone are made hearts of flesh,” added Father Alexámenos. “In heaven, the attitude will be, ‘Look what the Lamb of God, Who takes away the sins of the world, did for me; read my life in His wounds which He received in the one and only time of mercy, the hour of mercy, during which He draws all, of all times, to Himself. To the One sitting upon the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honour and glory and might unto eternity.”

“It is the timeless hour of mercy,” interjected Mother Bernadette once again, “a mercy which lifts us out of time while we remain in time. There is no turning the clock back or forward. Mercy places us directly before the Living Truth, the Creator of time, Who cannot be manipulated, relativised, placed into the past – as if He were now surpassed – or into the future, as if He were some abstract, impersonal, cosmic event that will never arrive. In the reception of mercy we realise that time, all time, is for mercy, the mercy of one hour… We see the blessed vision of the Father through Christ by sanctifying grace – darkly, as through a mirror – in this world, for when we see others who are in the Body of Christ by sanctifying grace, it is as if we see our Heavenly Father in a dark mirror. We do not see them as relativised to ourselves, but through the Living Truth dwelling within us.”

“It is an hour,” added Cardinal Fidèle, “in which He says for me, ‘Father, forgive them…’ I ask the Lord that just as He gives me now the ability to speak of these things, that He will also grant me the gift to understand them.” As he spoke these things, he was citing Saint Augustine’s Confessions almost verbatim. “I pray that I may know that my finding favour with Him is due to His mercy, and that, in this mercy, He opens to me the secret things of His Word when I knock. Both the ignorant and the one who understands these truths confide and confess to God, for whoever is grateful for the truths of mercy knows and blesses God with me.”

“Indeed, within me, deep inside my deepest thoughts, Truth Himself says, ‘Moses speaks the truth.’ This is what assures me,” said Father Alexámenos, who continued to paraphrase Saint Augustine. “However, ‘si comprehendis, non est Deus.’ God is always the infinite Mystery Who cannot be understood completely by our finite minds, even when we will see Him as He is…”

“When we know Him knowing us, seeing Him seeing us, so to speak,” said padre Emet.

Cardinal Fidèle then prayed with the words of Saint Augustine: “Dear Lord, circumcise my lips, inwardly and outwardly, from all precipitation and lying. Let Your Scriptures be my chaste delight. Let me not be deceived by them, nor deceive others because of any misunderstanding of them.”

“It’s like the Easter candle,” said Yehezqēl. “A Cross, the current year, and the all inclusive symbols of Αlpha and Omega are scratched into its beeswax. Christ is the Beginning and End in Whom we live as time is consumed as a holocaust in the flames of God’s eternal Charity, a flame undivided, purifying, uniting, giving the light of Truth in Charity throughout time to all.”

“It is the hour of Pentecost when, with the disciples and the Blessed Virgin, we are inflamed with the Paraclete’s gift of Faith in Charity, the Revelation in mercy,” said Mother Bernadette. “This hour of mercy is the Key of Knowledge placing us before God, who is Truth.”

It was understandable that al-Hasan, now Paul, and al-Husayn, now Timothy, did not add to this mêlée, overwhelmed as they were, though they were taking in every word. It suddenly became quiet. They all found themselves looking at Father Lia-Fail.

“It’s an hour,” Father Lia-Fail said, “when the prophets of old realised why they were being purified by pestilence, sword, famine and exile. They knew that God’s punishments were something much more than justice. They looked upon this suffering as a purification from sin, but not only this. They were being prepared to be sifted as wheat…”

Father Lia-Fail hesitated, but the Holy Father, without ceasing to write, said, “Speak freely.”

“Christ told Peter that he would be sifted as wheat by Satan,’ continued Father Lia-Fail. “In being sifted as wheat by Satan, Peter did not yet understand that the Messiah, in laying down His own Life to take it up again, was drawing all to Himself, one Bread, one Body, uniting us with Himself in His death and resurrection, thus laying down not only His own life, but ours in Him. This was all too much for Peter, who denied the Lord three times. In his denial, Peter was identical to Caiaphas, when that High Priest said, ‘It is better that one man die for the people rather than that a whole nation should perish’; had Caiaphas taken the example of the prophets, he would have said, ‘It is better that the bodies of many in a nation perish than that the souls of all perish in hell forever; so, let us die with Christ, and go to the heavenly Jerusalem.’ The verification that one is dying to oneself is the willingness to lay down one’s life for others, even if this should mean that others, because of this, will also be laying down their lives for the Gospel, for the Father, as did Christ. It demands the Faith of Abraham, our Father in Faith, when he was about to sacrifice Isaac…”

“But the self-deception is so subtle for so many,” interrupted padre Emet. “It is said that one can turn the cheek personally, but not collectively. It is the illogic of Caiaphas. People must learn that self-defence is just, but not at the price of turning one’s back on the Living Truth.”

“In other words,” added Father Alexámenos, “one congratulates oneself for thinking that one would be steadfast in the face of persecution, standing one’s ground, just turning the other cheek, willing to be cut down, witnessing unto death about the Lord’s Charity in Truth; but then, after promoting one’s own generosity, one escapes any consequences by saying that one cannot risk the collective punishment of others because of one’s own refusal to deny the Lord before men, and so will give no witness at all. But the hypocrisy cannot remain hidden. That person vaunts himself as some sort of saviour, but will only protect himself, doing away with anyone actually giving witness to Charity in Truth. Instead, one is to defend another at one’s own risk, just as Christ saved the adulterous woman, a symbol of the fallen Israel, a symbol of who we were when Christ redeemed us, whatever the sin happened to be by which we committed our adultery.”

“Libros ipsos integros cum omnibus suis partibus, prout in Ecclesia catholica legi consueverunt et in veteri vulgata latina editione habentur…” said the Pontiff, who did not stop writing.

“The integral books themselves with all of their parts, just as the Catholic Church has been accustomed to read and as are contained in the old Latin Vulgate edition…” mumbled Mother Bernadette under her breath, amazed at what must be written in the bulla.

Father Lia-Fail wanted to make sure the point was driven home, and so added, “We must be purged of the fear that our Lord will not provide the grace for us to give witness to Him before men, for He so desires to present us to our Father in heaven, through, with and in Himself. When Christ laid down His life freely, He was also laying down the lives of the members of His Body, including us. Like the Master, so the disciple, as He said, casting the fire of His Charity on the earth, in those whom He offers to His Father in Himself. He foresaw the so-called holy wars which would be waged against this Charity, this fire. Placed into that fire, we are to…”

“…do God’s will… so we hope and pray,” concluded Pope Tsur-Ēzer for him. “Orthodoxorum Patrum exempla secuta…” he said, as he continued writing.

“The example of the orthodox Fathers being followed…” Mother Bernadette again repeated out loud.

Both Pope Tsur-Ēzer and Father Alexámenos called to mind the now ironic words spoken by Cardinal Fidèle and Simon while they were still possessed: sift… burn… burning…”

“Sister Fātimah died, as did so many,” Father Lia-Fail went on, “to prepare others for the purification yet to come… at this hour… this very hour, which the saints of old also knew.”

“Yes, she knew what the primary and secondary ends of marriage are,” observed padre Emet, knowing that he would not be immediately understood. He added, “When David took his census, he was proud of how many children of Israel he could claim for himself, but this was not the purpose of the command of the Lord to be fruitful and multiply. The Lord wanted children of Adam for His own glory, not for the glory of any mere son of Adam. As a punishment, the people died with three days of pestilence, such as we have also seen. There is, even today, too much worry about numbers. The more one is politically correct, a builder of consensus, of compromise, of the lowest common denominator of nothing that is so low that it includes hell itself, the more one claims numbers of people for oneself, but certainly not for God. Ironically, it is precisely such people who reverse the ends of marriage, saying that unity is more important than following the commands of God to bear fruit and multiply. It is those religious, priests, bishops and cardinals who are actually preaching disunity and death, making contraception, sterilisation and abortion into the policy of their Catholic hospitals, and in their active encouragement of homosexual ‘unions’. They think they will bring many to the flock of the Lord in this way, but they are wrong on both physical and spiritual levels. That sin is to be purified not only by pestilence or famine…”

“But by the sword, not of mere war, but the sword which sends martyrs to heaven,” interrupted the Holy Father, demonstrating that he knew what he had said to Father Lia-Fail just before the Easter Vigil, ‘Arise! Let us be going!’ willing to lay down not only his own life, but that of others for sake of the Living Truth.

“But Emet,” said Cardinal Fidèle, “why did you say that Sister Fātimah knew the primary and secondary ends of marriage, and that she knew the pestilence was preparing us for a purification?”

Mother Bernadette intervened, seeing that Cardinal Fidèle did not understand either the Pope or padre Emet. “Your Eminence, when Sister Fātimah spoke of her vocation, she told us of her appreciation of the physical virginity of Mary, the Mother of God, precisely as it is mentioned in the story of the wedding of Cana. It has everything to do with the hour of intercession, and with the primary and secondary ends of marriage, of procreation and unity.

“Please, Mother, continue,” said the Cardinal, knowing that that he was but a novice in the Faith.

•••—•••—•••

It was just now becoming apparent that a large number of the crowd inside the Basilica – upwards, it seemed, of a thousand people – were pressing toward the exit into the Vatican Gardens that wound its way underneath Bernini’s sculpture of Pope Alexander VII. The Swiss Guards became suspicious, but wasted the few seconds they had in trying to be polite with the diplomats whom they were moving away from the multiple sets of doors of the passageway, attempting to seal the exit to the Vatican Gardens. But then the Muslims acted as one man with one voice, stampeding under the image of the skeleton holding the hourglass of the passage of time and down into the short tunnel, fatally trampling a thousand times over diplomats and guards alike. Their death chant was thunderous: “The blasphemy will not be forgotten! Burn the jackass! The hour has come!”

An old Papal Knight, watching the horror off to the side, said, “Tempus fugit; memento mori… Time flies; remember death!”

He noted how one of the Muslims betrayed his provenance by screaming, “La France a l’Algérie! La France a l’Algérie!” He shouted, “Takbīr!”; the others yelled: “Allāhu akbar!”

The Papal Knight wondered how it was that violence in the Vatican was an answer to the half-century old cry of French imperialism: “Algérie Française!” “It is the illogic of al-Qaeda,” he thought. “Anything for a scapegoat. They choose the weakest target which has no part in such stupidity. Muslim fundamentalists are cowards, all of them.”

•••—•••—•••

“Si quis traditiones prædictas sciens et prudens contempserit: anathema sit,” said the Holy Father, writing the last words of the Apostolic Constitution.

“If anyone knowingly and upon reflection will despise the aforesaid Traditions: let him be anathema,” Mother Bernadette concluded with ethusiasm, looking over to Cardinal Fidèle, knowing that his questions had not yet been answered, but that they soon would be answered.

“The Easter Candle,” said Pope Tsur-Ēzer, “would be appropriate for the needed flame… Alexámenos…” Father Alexámenos went to get the Easter Candle which the Sisters had lit when they returned from the Easter Vigil. While he was away, the Pontiff signed the bulla, writing, “Ego Tsur-Ēzer, Catholicae Ecclesiae Episcopus, ita definiendo subscripsi.” He then punched some holes in the velum with the pen and laced the scarlet cord through it. “Hopefully, this scarlet cord will be respected as was the scarlet cord of the prostitute Rahab back in the book of Joshua, chapter two. May the truth it enwraps endure in the minds of men.” Father Alexámenos returned as he finished saying this. The Pope took the candle from him and gave him the pen. “You too Emet… Fidèle…”, he said.

When they read it, amazed at its content, they all signed it. Padre Emet commented on the wisdom of adding that the bulla did not have to be published in the Acta Apostolicæ Sedis, the official register, “The Acts of the Apostolic See”, in order to be authentic, and that it was promulgated by the very act of its being signed and sealed with the Ring of the Fisherman. It was an ex-cathedra statement. The Pope held the sealing lead over the flame of the Easter Candle, letting it pool over the cord. He then impressed the image of the Ring of the Fisherman into the congealed lead.

•••—•••—•••

The stampede of the Muslims had moved from the Basilica, around and over the cars waiting for the diplomats just outside in Piazza Santa Marta. The Muslims ran the short distance to the petrol pumps, which were still switched on so as to provide fuel for the generators providing the little electricity that was being used in Vatican City. The few guards that were there – for most had moved to the front of the Basilica – could do nothing to control such a stampede, which was not one of panic, but of determined purpose. Each of the Muslims had two large water bottles which they had brought into the Basilica with them. As they filled these at the pumps, they began to throw them, in flames, into the windows of the upper floors of the buildings surrounding them, the Sacristy, Santa Marta, the renovated buildings of the Tribunal, San Carlo – which was directly in front of them – and that of the Archpriest, where, among others, Cardinal de Colines had also resided.

The Muslims had only wanted media attention, but some of them had been able to receive on their internet phones the reports provided by the helicopters overhead: the Pope was in the Gardens along with some of the key players in the trial. Their mock violence would now turn into real violence. They had worthy targets, those who would witness to the Living Truth.

•••—•••—•••

The fires the Muslims were setting now had the purpose of creating a further diversion as they looked for the Pope and his companions. The scene in front of the Basilica had become violent, and was the best distraction. Behind the Basilica, the few guards were kept busy with aggressive taunting. The Muslims were provoking them to shoot. The guards had no training whatsoever as to how to deal with those who, for all they cared, were on a suicide mission. The guards soon had their guns taken away, and would have been shot had the guns been loaded with bullets.

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Chapter 40 coming soon…

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© 2007-2008 Renzo di Lorenzo — All rights reserved

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