Recollections on a Rainy Day

             It is raining outside, a dreadful pour that blocks the streets. I hear carriages trot past but cannot see them and can't help but wonder if the roses are being well-watered. Unfortunately, the cold weather and my plentiful duties have long kept me from the garden. How I should love to walk there!

Folding my hands, I pretend ever so successfully that the thunder doesn't frighten me. My mind recalls a storm this bad, many years ago, when I was only nineteen years old, an ambitious seminarian, completing my 2^nd year. I had been staring out a cloister window, fascinated by heavy rain that beat upon the bottled glass. Glass back then was made from cheap, green bottles. From behind came Renaldo, who quickly shoved past me to peer out. Catching sight of a couple fleeing the waterlogged road, he pointed and laughed:

“Look how that pitiful man must go back for his wife! I’d maybe go back for my breviary…”

Soon, some four young men gathered there, pushing and shoving. They longed to see the couple but grey clouded everything. Leonardo, the oldest, straightened up and rather predictably, intoned a sharp C in his deep, tenor voice. Catching on, the others joined their eager youthful voices.  Between old, stone cloisters, rang a new song, trying to sound ancient- but altogether silly: the chant of the seminarians. That year, it went like this:

           When I was a young man, I dreamt my wedding day...

            But there was no bride in white.

            and it would last forever!

                       

            Oh my beloved is Chastity!

She won’t nag or ask for things.

            nor drag me from place to place!

          

         I’m a seminarian- soon to be ordained…

            Thomas Aquin my best man,

Blest Mary bears the ring.

            Poor Clare supplieth roses,

            and good Joseph, the rod breaks.

            On the day I’ll say forever!

            Oh, sweet chastity, she is my bride.

            Oh, sweet chastity, so free! 

            Celibacy but a small price to pay.

            Yes, a woman’s tempting, very nice.

            Her eyes and lips all made up nice,

            But on that day, I’ll swear forever.

           

            Of Latin our tongues are burdened,
              all day long: Amo, amas, amat.
              In principio Verbum erat!

               The Matin bells we ring,
              over the mountains, Te Deum sing,
            early, early, to the choir scurry!

            In cassock and surplice, 
             shew yourselves clean, alert
            and ready, like angels on the wing.

                In deep philosophy, our minds swim,
             at morn we ponder, St Ambrose
               and Augustin.
     
                 And at eventide, theology runs a race,
                  like hounds of heaven,
                 corrected over and over.

              Joy makes no dull boy,

            our tongues shall let loose:

            O sweet chastity, shall be my bride!

             

            Say, I’ll be a priest.

            Death comes for wives and children

but the altar’s always there…

Introibo ad altare Dei,

Io, io! ~the rest you know!

Now that I think back on it, this was a very frivolous song, made up by frivolous youth and "perfected" over the years- but perhaps containing several grains of truth? I am not sure. I must watch the rain a little longer and decide... 

Recent Happenings

I have noticed my relative scarcity of updates on this blog and I apologize. Let me tell you what has been going on in my life...oh yes... and at the cathedral.
We recently acquired a new priest, Father Bertone. He is native to Florence and used to more hustle and bustle than what Lucca offers. Though musically-inclined, he butts heads with Deacon Gregorius, who has more traditional tastes. During his third Mass, poor Father Bertone only needed hasten the tempo of "Aquae Babylonis" to get Gregorius in a ruffle!
A woman, named Priscilla, held her husband's funeral at the cathedral. After the requiem, I sat with her and offered condolences. In turn, she asked me permission to upkeep and straiten the sacristy, which has been rather disorganized of late. Last Sunday, maniples of all colors were laying around- except green ones. I admit it, we have trouble finding things... so I gave permission. Priscilla is very good at organizing. She makes sure that the correct maniple can always be found...even ensures they match my chasuble. However, the altar boys are uneasy around her.  Giuseppe, our oldest server, has developed a liking to her and follows her around, causing a ruckus among the other boys.
On August 15, I met with various clergy and discussed many things. After two hours of serious discourse, Dina served us the most-delicious, pepperoni calzone and red Moscatto wine. I'm ashamed to admit, we drank too much... Monsignor Barolo ended up singing the full overture from "Don Giovanni" while Father Simone fell asleep on the couch. Of course, this was where I wished to sleep. It didn't go over well... Arguments about who got there first, who had the biggest shoes and who took vows of obedience ensued. I'm not proud of this...

Next summer, I will be ordaining seven priests and three deacons. Very exciting! We also will be accepting four new seminarians. Please pray for our young men who seek priesthood- it's very important. Joyfully, I write this... not only does Giuseppe promise to become a priest (that is, if Priscilla doesn't marry him) but Dina's own adopted son, Gianni, has expressed wishes to enter seminary. How splendid!!

My, my, it has grown rather late. I suppose I shall write more when the proper time comes. Please know that everything is good here. The cathedral is vibrant as ever. Our boys' choir will be preparing for the season of Advent and three, young women are soon entering St. Martha's convent. There is really nothing more to say. I conclude with thanksgiving for the Lord's goodness! May He be praised forever, who has set the stars into place. May He be exalted above all, who has divided the sea. May glory be forever unto Him who has sent His Only Son for man's salvation!!

A Note on Celibacy

            Yesterday at the local bakery, while waiting for a loaf of baguette, a woman approached me and asked where my wife was. She meant well and was rather flustered, perhaps overly concerned with my apparent loneliness. Very quietly, I told her “We clergymen don’t take wives. I am celibate.” My verbiage left this woman rather confused! Poor dear, scratching at her hair, she answered, “So then, what do you celebrate?”

              Since my baguette was taking longer than I expected, I figured to explain: “No madam, I said celibate, it means that someone does not marry and chooses to remain chaste for their lifetime.” At last, she understood. In horror, the poor dear cried out, “Oh, how unfortunate!”

          After I received my baguette, while walking home, I realized that this woman’s attitude resembled most everyone else’s. And when dinner was finished, I decided to write something on this matter so others may be taught:

           Do we not hear the Gospel and how Jesus passed the devious tests of the Pharisees? While the Jews concerned themselves with earthly things, who shall earn the wife of many deceased husbands, Our Lord drew towards heavenly matters: “For when they shall rise again from the dead, they shall neither marry, nor be married, but are as the angels in heaven (1)”.  He does speak here of earthly unions, saying death shall dissolve the marriage bond… yet this does not dissolve the sanctity of marriage but beholds a new reality. In eternity, our human souls become espoused to none but the Lord God who crafted them.  From His time in Eden, God had crafted holy matrimony for the blessing of humanity made in His image. He had sealed the marital bond with His charity and bestowed the gift of family, generations beyond, who will glorify His name.

                Yet despite this great good, and let us declare it such great good, not all need belong to a husband or wife in this earthly stay. Hear the apostle: “The married man is anxious with pleasing his wife while a virgin is anxious with pleasing the Lord.” Think ye of such holy examples who undertook this: Mary Magdala who fled from impurity, John the Beloved, virgin and celibate, Joseph, Father of Christ, who lived out of godly fear, in marital continence. John the Messiah’s Forerunner and the prophet Jeremiah also pledged their flesh to God. This, the burnt-offering of the Levites prefigures: all is consumed, the whole body turned to ashes. Thus, Lord Jesus hath said: “He who loses his life shall gain life.” Many deem it gravest misfortune to be made a eunuch or mutilated, yet the one who who injures self for sake of the Kingdom is instead blessed, called “As the angels in heaven.”

                May we say, “He that can take, let him take it (2).” True oblation is never forced. Duty cannot selflessly give, thus the error of the Pharisees who bound up sacrifice with law.  The cross of Christ was never duty, no, Calvary’s offering was always love. Likewise, the man who forgoes marriage and creation of young does so from love. With a burning passion, he lays himself on the altar of chastity, ever hoping to consummate that supernatural union in heaven. In heaven, no marriage is known beside that with the Lord. A consecrated soul alone becomes as the bride of Solomon, choice, whitened, a heady wine, a hidden chord of sublime music, clad in gold, sweet as the lily, fair like the dove. Know, every brother, who delights in psalms rather than children’s’ laughter, is full of God’s delight. Know, every sister who gives not suck, goes out weeping yet returneth rejoicing, singing songs of joy. Know, every father who belongs to none, raises up by word of the Gospel, numberless descendants!

Blessed are the barren trees of Our Lord’s garden! By bowing down, they shed good seed and tend the saplings. They go to the sheep, made food for life anew. By restraining the flesh, they show us the angels. They mirror eternity, forever beloved and wedded to God, melded like wax beneath a burning flame, to Love Itself.

(1)    Mark 12:25

(2)    Matthew 19:12

Contrition

Finally left to himself, Cardinal Fratelli falls silent. He kneels, turns eyes towards an old, wooden crucifix, and prays aloud: “Have mercy on me, Oh Lord, according to the greatness of your mercy. In your compassion, blot out my sins…”

Admitting wrong deeds done and right deeds undone is difficult- especially for a cardinal who is supposed to be holy. Knowing he had been proud, slothful, selfish… intemperate… concupiscent, Fratelli dared not stare too intently at that hallowed representation of Christ. Indeed, the cross seemingly loomed over him, its painful curves and rugged lines almost crying out for justice. Yet, the Savior’s death didn’t bring well-deserved justice but mercy. The blood of the cross pleaded for pardon rather than condemnation.   

“Sacrifices do not delight you, but a contrite heart you will not spurn,” the cardinal said, “Hear me, Oh Lord, and be pleased with my sorrow.”

Cardinal Fratelli's talk for Altar-Servers.

The Mass is a very special occasion- like a wedding. Now we are always on our best behavior at weddings aren't we? Don't we say: “please” “Thank you” “Yes sir” and “Yes ma'am” ?

            -Do we dress sloppy for weddings? No we don’t. We comb our hair, wash our faces and clean our hands. There shall be no gummy ears, runny noses or dirty fingernails. It is very important we are presentable.

            -Long, un-groomed hair isn't befitting of an altar server. Don’t even try to tell me its okay because Jesus had long hair. The only thing more insufferable than messy hair is a sassy mouth!

            - There is no excuse for ruffled surplices and cassocks. If your parents have not time to wash them, wash them yourselves. I will have no more mud-stains: stop playing in the dirt! Neither will any of you wear scruffy shoes. If your shoes are worn out or you can’t afford new ones, come and see me.

- Any one of you who smells like grass or cigar-smoke, shall be made to wait outside the sanctuary. “My poppa smokes” you say- but you are the one with stale breath! If you don’t have enough respect to keep from your vices on Sunday morning, you do not deserve the respect of the sanctuary.

-One of you brought a frog to Mass last Sunday. No one here is the next Francis of Assisi. This will not happen again!

-I know some of you are sleepy, having woken early and walked all the way to church. That is fine and I am pleased to allow you time to liven up. However, tiredness is no excuse for inattention and sloppy form. By now, you should be able to fold hands in your sleep and lift your head at the smell of incense.

- For those of you with too much energy; please run around outside before coming to Mass. Stretch your legs- but do not fidget or dare pinch the younger boys! Even worse should I ever catch you fighting… Servants of Christ are not rabble-rousers... Your mothers taught you better. We stand as equals before God and shame on you for claiming any kind of rank!

- Some of you are clumsy and cannot help it. It is best for you to kneel and ring the bells. Take nothing beyond your ability.

- Stop holding hands. This is a nuisance.

    -Yes, we have heard over and over again that Paolo has a girlfriend. Not every altar-server is called to be a priest. Stop picking on him.

- Slurred Latin is shameful. “Escum spirtu tu” is NOT an acceptable response! If you don’t have enough discipline to practice your responses at home, you should not have the privilege to stand up here and say them!

- If you have anything in your mouth, spit it out at home! I am tired of finding crumbs and discarded gum in the sacristy!

- This is the last time I tell you not to clang the sacred vessels and patens together. If you would not dare do this with your mother’s best china, you shouldn't dare do it here.

- Stop talking after Mass. The sanctuary is not a boys-club. When you have changed back into your regular clothes and left the church, you may resume conversation.

-I know it is fun swinging the thurible and watch smoke come out however this is no grounds to make loops and spill coals everywhere. You are to be offering prayers to God, not showing off!

- Anyone caught smoking on the church steps will not be allowed to serve that day. The same with swearing. Dirty mouths are for heathens!

We know at the Mass, Jesus and all the saints are present. Mother Mary is there; your guardian angels and all the angels are there. So it is best we show utmost respect!

Mass with Gianni

Mass with Gianni, my oldest altar-boy. He looks like an innocent angel but is not. How do I know this? Because I spent most of the morning peeling chewing gum off the bottom of my episcopal slippers...

A Frustrating Day for Cardinal Fratelli (part II)

Throughout dinner, Cardinal Fratelli managed to avoid Veronica’s flirtatious glances. He hoped her father would intervene but he was already too drunk with wine. Thank goodness, Fratelli thought, he hasn’t asked for more. In order to be rid of the temptation, the cardinal quickly poured a last glass and drank it.

Noticing, Sergio laughed.

“No more wine?” he asked.

“No.” Fratelli said.

Veronica giggled at him while her mother, Julia, yawned.

“My dear, I am tired,” she mumbled, “It is so late. Should we be off?”

Yes,” Fratelli interrupted before the sluggish Sergio could reply.

Getting the message, Sergio stood. He shook crumbs off his fine attire, straitened his hair and helped his wife from her chair. Veronica unseated last. She seemed reluctant to leave, almost disappointed. Perhaps upset she cannot ogle me anymore…Fratelli mused. Of course he didn’t say anything about it. With polite smiles, he gave Sergio and his family farewell, guided them out and blessed them on their way.


~ ~ ~

 When their carriage finally disappeared from sight, he closed the door and sighed in relief. “Now, I can have quiet,” Fratelli said, “…and peace.”

However, his stomach began churning, uneasy from that last, quick drink of wine. Not yet going upstairs, he strolled into the parlor where he blew out the only candlelight, signaling that all in this house were asleep- and thus unavailable. Cardinal Fratelli realized he was never quite unavailable. The rigors of his office called at all hours. Even in the late night, someone could need him. A widow could knock at his door, a prisoner flee to his cathedral or a random penitent appear. Indeed, he could be summoned to give some poor soul final anointing…He was constantly on guard against these things.

“Oh Lord, how can the servant expect rest when he was made for work?” he asked the darkness. No one answered. He spoke again.

“Your Eminence,” a voice suddenly said, “Who are you talking to?”

“Oh Rodrigo,” he exclaimed, seeing a white-robed figure perch on the staircase, “I was just conversing with my Lord.”

“Let me know if he ever talks back,” the priest sneered. He didn’t mean to be rude and was just tired. Cardinal Fratelli hid his irritation. He approached Father Rodrigo, put an arm around him and said, “Let us retire. The morning will not be long, my stomach hurts… and now my head hurts.”

Easter Sermon

What of Christ’s little flock here on earth? What of the people who profess the resurrection but act as if they are dying? Those who have lost faith, those who doubt God, who have given into corruption, wickedness and sin? Surely they are part of the Church much as you or I? Was not Judas one of the Twelve? It becomes easy to despair when pondering the faults, vices, jealousies and strivings that the Church has experienced in her membership of near two-thousand years. At times, the Church certainly appeared dead on the outside, sunken and sallow like a dry tree. Yet one would be greatly amiss and rather ignorant of heavenly things if he truly deemed the Church of God to be dead.

Do we not know, where sin abounded, grace did more abound. (1) Do we know that Christ, when we were weak, died for the ungodly??  Yes, He purchased the Church- and all souls in it, by his own blood. He lay down his life for it while ever-knowing betrayals, divisions, quarrels and scandals would wait! The saint and the Pharisee both He loves… both have their home within His Church. And during starkest times, when all hope seemed lost, did not the Lord cleanse his Church, pull her from the ashes and give life anew? Not by man’s prowess, has the Church endured alongside Christ, but by his Holy Spirit. Just as Christ Jesus was raised not of his own power but that of his Father whom He glorified, the Church is raised from Christ, whom she betrothed. From the cross, Our Lord declared: “It is consummated” This wedding, born of blood, had been destined to wear a crown of glorious resurrection. Whoever lives in the Lord and dies in the Lord shall be raised in the Lord.

The apostle Paul, no stranger to religious evils, speaks for the Church when he says: And I live, now not I; but Christ liveth in me. And that I live now in the flesh: I live in the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and delivered himself for me. (2) The force that steadies a reeling, sinful church also uplifts mortal, sinful men. Sin sets its ugly countenance before us all. The world- and the Church shall always confront this grim face of evil until everything sees final consummation, when Christ comes with glory to crush death beneath his heel once and for ever. What is this hallowed feast about? Why do we come forward to Easter after an arduous, long Lent?

Because He is risen! The once beaten and bruised Savior, bloodied beyond recognition, had died. In a moment, darkness celebrates- but the victory proves short. He that embraced death’s cold arms now marches triumphant from the grave. From His wounds pour a river of strength, from his death flows a fountain of life. If we expect not to undergo the same, our faith is in vain. Because of the resurrection, we can stand fearless before death and evil. Because of the resurrection, we can sing hymns in the darkest pit. Because of this, we march forth, staggering- yet whole, wounded- but not conquered, weeping- yet singing, “alleluia” that ancient, Paschal refrain.  Indeed, among many things, did Christ Jesus tell us: “Be you of good cheer for I have overcome the world.”

1)     Romans 5:20

2)     Galatians 2:20

Sermon for Palm Sunday

     “Tell ye the daughter of Sion: Behold thy king cometh to thee… Rejoice greatly, O Daughter of Zion! Shout, Daughter of Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation ” Long have we awaited the day, verily have the prophets yearned: when we would hear these words- Your King comes to you, righteous and having salvation. This King is different from the rest, coming on a humble ass but bringing salvation! Salvation!

      Who brings salvation but God? Jesus the Son Of  God- True God, comes himself to deliver his people, to fulfill the Scriptures. Yet, we know that also to fulfill the Word of God which the prophets spoke, he must suffer and die. Just as the Savior of mankind arrives humbly arrayed, he dies in abject humility. He rules from the throne of the cross, paying our ransom in his blood. His Kingdom is one in which glory is purchased by suffering. It is not easy…truly he said: If you do not take up your cross, you are not worthy to follow after me. He not only saves us but calls us to be more than passive spectators. Thus, we are invited to place ourselves into the great "passion play" of today's Gospel. We are invited to walk there with the Lord who endures mockery and abuse. His Kingdom is not of this world, it is above this world and yet He calls even those who mock and hate Him into it. We, His children, most of all, who love Him, should take heed.

       We who are unworthy, we who are small, we all have place in his coming into kingship as did the lowly ass. How he beckons each one of us! Jesus speaks upon this day saying: Come forth and bear Zion’s King!”

Tea with Cardinal Fratelli, # 17

From: Mary,

“Your Eminence, we just lost our family-dog, Buddy. This will be my children’s first experience of loss and I don’t know what to say. Should I tell them that Buddy is in heaven? Should I tell them that animals don’t have souls and they just go away? Help, I’m tongue-tied!”

Dear, Mary.

My, you have such a beautiful name…but yes, about the dog. I sympathize with your loss. Animals can be wonderful companions, even when they steal food from the table and sneeze on you… It’s best to inform your children about death in light of God. In this case, I wouldn’t declare it anathema to tell them dear Buddy is in heaven. The Good Lord created all animals and I’m sure he takes them all back somehow. Moreso, their crying, tantrums and begging for another dog will be eased by explaining that one day, they may see Buddy again.

In Christ,

Angelo Cardinal Fratelli.

Tea with Cardinal Fratelli, # 16

“I am 42, a single mother and am seriously thinking about becoming Christian. However, there are different churches in my town and I don’t know which one to attend. I am just starting out with this and need a place that is comforting and accepting, where they won’t look down on a silly convert like me.

Sincerely,

Joyce.”

Dear Joyce,

Firstly, praised be God that you are considering the Christian faith! This will be so good for you and for your children- even if they are grown. Your spiritual journey will be hard no doubt, and confusing since there are indeed many, various churches which teach different things. Now, I’m not one to push and pry but the church that will benefit you most is one steady and well-established… anything founded after 1300 AD is probably no good. Also, stay away from churches that sing 60’s rock songs made into hymns…

Why don’t you come to the cathedral for Mass? I’d be very pleased speaking with you and sorting things out. This world we live in can be immensely chaotic and painful but verily, as you have discovered, Christ is the answer!

Yours in Christ,

Angelo Cardinal Fratelli.

Oh no, not a Conclave! -Part II

This morning, I felt very much full of vigor as I got up. I spent some time making sure my choir dress was perfect and unwrinkled then attended Mass at St Peter's Basilica. I must admit, that the powerful beauty and austerity of it all drew me in- so that I was almost distracted from the gravity of the matter at hand.

I ate breakfast at the inn, by myself, kindly excusing Father Rodrigo and taking a seat by a sun-filled window. My coffee was too hot and my pastry was cold but I didn't mind as there were grapes and delicious cheese. I considered sneaking a jar of olives into the conclave...oh and a tin of Turkish delight! Rodrigo, knowing my love for these foods said it seemed a rather good idea- especially if I was going to be held long. So I sent my aunt Francine out to buy those things.

That afternoon, I traveled to my titular church: Santi Apostoli, or the church of the Holy Apostles. It was the last bit of free time I'd have. Walking around calmed my nerves a bit yet when I tried to pray, a feeling of dryness came over me. Why now?

Sometimes instead of talking, there needs to be listening. God is not heard in the thunder or the earthquake but He speaks with a quiet voice. How often do I dim that quiet voice with my own musings, worries and circular thoughts? No, this was not a time to talk but to listen. The voice didn't come to me until I returned to the Piazza of St Peter. My aunt Francine was there, handing over my "secret" food items. She started fretting about my cross and biretta. Merciful goodness, I had my biretta perfectly straitened until she touched it! It was when I fixed the biretta, walked away and stood by the nearest water fountain that God told me softly, not to worry so much. He said "What are you afraid of? For this you were called."

Certainly, from time to time, it is necessary to remember that when we are doing the will of God, answering His call, that He will make a way. Worrying is quite natural, especially when facing momentous decisions or adventures but we must trust and put our best foot forward. I am ashamed to admit that before, I considered it good to run away and hide from this the same way I wanted to run away from being a cardinal many years ago. However, when laboring for the Lord, there is no hiding or running away.

We must boldly say like the prophets of old: "I am here, send me!" Sometimes things are frightening. like the prospect of being locked in a room for days with cantankerous and pompous cardinals. However, sometimes we make ourselves more afraid than we really have to be. If the Lord is on your side, who can stop you? Not even the crankiest, most pompous cardinal that is for sure! Certainly, in carrying out the Lord's will, there is no need to fear. I suppose I ought to fearlessly approach this and do it right- with His help of course.

Disclaimer: Cardinal Fratelli is not an actual cardinal of the Roman Catholic Church but a fictional character.

Oh no, not a conclave! - Part I

When I arrived to Rome yesterday, I noticed my leg had fallen asleep. Stepping from the stagecoach, I almost fell! Luckily, my secretary, Father Rodrigo, caught me. He told me I must be careful. Rome is always a very exciting place for me. They have the best calzone and make the creamiest tomato soup, which was perfect on the cold day I arrived. There was some rain in the air and I prayed the Lord would keep me dry and warm. I don't tend to have good luck with rain as it usually finds some way to evade an umbrella and get my little zucchetto all wet.

Now it was getting dark when I arrived. Many people were scurrying about, their attention drawn to the lamps being lit, restaurants opening and the occasional cardinal who darted by hoping to be unseen. Must I say, I dread being fussed over!

As I approached the Piazza of St. Peter's I suddenly wondered what it was like for the chief apostle of Christ to walk these very same streets. Was he bold, standing on a monument to proclaim the love our Lord has for us? Did he baptize many in the Tiber River nearby? Was he afraid soldiers would come to arrest him? Rome was a place of wonder to Peter but in a way, it was his own garden of agony. He knew he was going to die there as Jesus foretold, he probably wrestled with this. However, the once weak, cowardly apostle now rose courageously to meet his suffering. He stood in this square, condemned to death and still lifted up prayers. He didn't care for the cruel world which hated him and hated his message, he knew he was going to be with the Lord. His sadness would be eternal joy!

That is somewhat how I feel. This is my first conclave and all I know is that being in a room full of cardinals is dreadful. There will be much bickering and posturing. We, being sinful men, assert ourselves at the most awkward moments...like when I tried to enjoy a bit of supper.

 I didn't want to be asked about my opinions on democracy, other religions and reforming the Roman Missal when I was tired, cold and hungry. I am going to suffer in these next days, I know it. Hopefully, I can lift my voice to God and think of the innumerable things He has stored up for those who love Him. I hope I can act according to His will...and not raise my voice at anyone. True courage and strength amidst danger comes from God. Power comes not from man but from God. I remind myself that it was only because of the Rock of Salvation that Peter could become a rock of the Church.

After I had eaten only one spoonful of that splendid tomato soup I mentioned earlier, I was approached. Two of my fellow-cardinals spoke in loud voices. One asked if I think he would make a good pope. Merciful goodness! They sat right next to me and fought over a pitcher of water, wetting the table right where my zucchetto had been laid. Frustration and suffering indeed! I put the zucchetto in my pocket. At least, I can keep it safe. Cannot say the same for myself.

(disclaimer, Cardinal Fratelli is not an actual cardinal of the Roman Catholic Church but a fictional character.)

Fell asleep in the office again

I had finally finished this long book on matters of theology and of the Holy Trinity, and was going to write down my insights but...I fell asleep.

Cardinal Fratelli's Sunday Sermon

“For as lightning cometh out of the east, so shall the coming of the Son of Man be.” 

I ask you, who are gathered here, if you have seen God’s might proudly displayed upon the earth or skies? Do you recall that on the first day, the Almighty declared: Let there be light!? What is the light to us? Verily, Christ spoke of those who see the light before them and deny it. John, the Beloved, wrote: The light shineth in darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it. Light drives away dark, dawn marks out a path, the hosts of blackness flee from light and the light exposes all deeds of men. We expect nothing less than for the doers of dark deeds to flee from and despise light. We know the children of dark despise the children of light.

Yet, who is so foolish as to say: The sun is naught, no one created it? Only a fool says in the heart there is no living God, only a person lost in darkness denies the Light Giver. Truly some walk amongst us, roaming about, declaring that God is an illusion, that men shall rule the earth, that faith is wickedness. Woe to them! Just as the sun, at high noon burns everything useless, so shall Our Lord God throw all that is dross into the fire. Be attentive! Know the wisdom of God! Walk in faith and not by deceitful sights! Consider yourselves why the Son of Man, when he cometh, asks shall he find faith on earth?

A Vacation for Cardinal Fratelli, ch. 13,14-15

Chapter 13.

                        A Restful Day.

Lazily, Cardinal Fratelli woke the next morning. He crawled out of bed, dressed and said morning-prayer out on the room’s small balcony. He was staring at bustling streets below when Gianni’s voice interrupted him.

                        “Let’s go swimming!”

                        “No,” Fratelli said quietly, “It is not proper for me.”

            Mario emerged into the room holding a plate of food as an anonymous servant carried in a teapot. He left, taking Gianni with him. After the boy’s scuffle, they wouldn’t leave him unattended. Fratelli sat down to breakfast and silently ate. He wished for a nice, quiet day. Suddenly, Gianni came back in.

                        “Can you come swimming with us, please?” he begged.

                        “No” was Fratelli’s final answer.

            After finishing his meal, Fratelli grabbed his broad saturno, walked downstairs and snuck outside. He knew Jan and Mario would be upset about this but he needed to get away. That, after all, was the point of having a vacation… He easily slipped between the crowds, happily unnoticed and crossed the street. The sun climbed higher, looming over him. Though Fratelli’s head stayed cool from the broad hat, his body felt warm and he loosened his buttons. Just when he decided to sit down in a shady area, Rodolfo, the archbishop, approached out of nowhere.

                        “Good morning, Your Eminence!” he cried.

                        “Good morning,” Fratelli replied, nodding respectfully.

            Fanning himself from the sun’s heat, Rodolfo fidgeted with his glittering cross and then spoke;

“It’s a hot one today! So glad to find you… Can you come with me to the cathedral?”

Fratelli nodded again. It wouldn’t be right to refuse; he concluded but followed very hesitantly. Rodolfo noticed, turned around and eagerly gestured with his hand for him to hurry. Fratelli groaned. Seeing Fratelli’s frown, Rodolfo figured to start up a conversation.

                        “Did you enjoy the dance last night?”

            Now smiling, Fratelli answered, “Yes I did. In fact, I dreamed that I was dancing…”

                        “With Lydia?” asked the archbishop, suppressing a grin.

                        “No, with Michele.”

                        “Who is Michele?”

                        “Oh, she is a friend of mine.”

                        “A pretty friend?”

            Fratelli nodded a third time then replied, “Yes, she is married now… thank the Lord.”

Both men smiled. The sunlight and sounds of the lively city were pleasant. Two large seagulls flew overhead squawking. Salty air wafted around them. When they reached the green bank around the cathedral, Fratelli looked towards the oddly leaning bell tower.

                        “Would you like to go up there?” Rodolfo asked.

                        “Why, yes I would,” said Fratelli.

            Rodolfo looked awkward, reaching beneath his purple robes to snatch a key-ring. It jingled as he searched for the right one and unlocked the tower’s door. He gestured for Fratelli to go in first. Inside, cool air relieved him and damp dark. He removed his hat as Rodolfo followed after. Fratelli glanced up with amazement at the wide, looming bells. Morning dew still dripped from the cold metal. One drop landed on his nose and he snorted. Slowly, Fratelli climbed the spiral staircase and stopped, looking out an arched window at the city square. Several carriages shuffled past, people milled about. Some, probably vacationers like himself, paused and pointed in their direction.

Resting his hands against the cold, stone wall, Fratelli sighed. He thanked God for this restful moment. It was perfect up here. Eventually, however, he stepped back down the stairs, slowly as he’d come, and emerged outside. Keeping thoughts inside, he simply smiled while they strolled to the cathedral.

When they reached the central aisle, a thin priest appeared with several white-robed choir boys in tow. Rodolfo wanted more help with them. Instead of frowning or groaning, Fratelli patiently sat down. Standing next to Rodolfo, the priest looked as his exact opposite, lean and gaunt while the archbishop was plump and rosy-faced. The boys squirmed and stared at Fratelli as he rose.

                        “Let us learn to properly chant today,” he began.

                        Their little eyes fixed on him.

            Delicately lifting one hand, Cardinal Fratelli opened his mouth and intoned a chant, “Kyrie Eleison…”

                        The boys haphazardly repeated it. The cardinal cringed then tried again:

                        “Kyriiie, Eleeison…”

            They responded better this time. Fratelli stood there and worked with them for about an hour. When the boys learned to properly chant the Kyrie, albeit rather roughly, he slumped down in a pew and sighed with relief. Rodolfo laughed, watching the weary boys leave then turned to the equally weary cardinal.

                        “A handful aren’t they?”

                        Fratelli wiped his forehead, expressing silent agreement.

In appreciation, Rodolfo took Fratelli for a lunch of baked bread, cheese risotto and roasted crab soup. Arriving back to the hotel alone, he saw Mario standing near the doorway, worried and frowning.

                        “I needed to be alone,” Fratelli explained.

            Though still upset, Mario decided not to speak. He escorted Fratelli back to his room where the cardinal laid down for a nap.

A nearby chime announced the hour of one ‘O’clock as Fratelli stirred and rose. He combed his messy hair then strolled downstairs. He spent most of the evening milling about the hotel’s small library. Most of the books there were fictional but either romantic or about war. He vaguely flipped through them then began straitening the shelves. Later, he joined the others at supper.

Gianni, who had just returned from swimming, continued bothering Fratelli to swim. At last, the cardinal walked away. Mario followed.

“No, please stay. I am just going to stroll by the seaside,” Fratelli said, “I will be back soon.”

                        They understood and let him go.

            Trekking over soft sand, Fratelli eyed the moon, which formed a perfect, white circle, almost floating atop the waves. Silver light hit his smiling face as he listened to murmuring waters. The beach was entirely deserted. Fratelli gazed around, looking for a sign of life. Nothing but the moon, sand and sea accompanied him. Sitting upon a smooth rock, he removed his socks and dipped one foot into the sea. Its coldness startled him yet soothed after such a warm day.

His mind turned to swimming. Could he? Maybe he would just wade a little? Once again, Fratelli gazed around and saw no one. Quickly, Fratelli removed his outer shirt and pants, folding them neatly and waded almost waist-deep into the water. An abrupt, swirling wave soon knocked him off balance. He fell completely in! Spitting and squinting, his head emerged, still looking very surprised. “Well, I suppose I’m swimming whether I like it or not,” he mused to himself. In playful fashion, Fratelli spread out his arms and paddled in a circle. Then he dove, touched the sandy sea floor and re-emerged. His laughter echoed into the night.

He came out of the water, sat on the rock to dry off and spoke a grateful prayer:

“O Precious Lord, thank you for this day, for this restful day. I suppose swimming isn’t as bad as I first thought…this night was perfect for me. Truly, the sea is full of wonder, your creation full of wonder.”

Suddenly something sticky and rather cold touched his leg. Seeing a tiny octopus wandering onto his foot, he jumped, shouting and shaking it off.  He snatched a stick and warily prodded the gooey creature back into the water.  When Fratelli returned to the hotel, still slightly wet with his hair dripping, Jan rushed forth with a dry towel.

                        “Oh, Your Eminence,” he gasped, “Did you fall into the ocean?”

                        “Sort of…”

Chapter 14.

                        The Rush.

On Sunday, Cardinal Fratelli rose early to celebrate Mass at the cathedral. He tried to give Rodolfo’s breviary back but the archbishop told him” Please, keep it.” Morning sunlight poured into the hotel bedroom as he began packing for the trip home. Gianni watched him carefully fold his clothes, including his red cassock along with an assortment of stockings. Gianni had previously shoved all his wrinkled clothes in a suitcase. He was ready to leave this place with its taunting locals and impatiently waited for the cardinal.

                        “I’m missing a stocking,” Fratelli suddenly said.

            Gianni snickered but one look silenced him. Fratelli began searching around and finally dug a scarlet stocking from beneath the bed. He sighed and packed it with the others.

                        “Can we get some gelato before we leave?” Gianni then asked.

            Mario glanced at his timepiece and gestured to indicate they had to leave soon. Fratelli began speaking but Gianni interrupted, “Please, we’ll be really fast.”

The cardinal shrugged. He too yearned for one last taste of the cold, savory treat. Mario took their bags while Fratelli departed with Gianni in tow. They promised to be back very soon.

Jan appeared, holding a large handbag. He peeked into the room and asked, “Where is his Eminence? We must be going soon.”

“He went for one last cup of gelato,” Mario answered.

Jan set the bag down and groaned.

Reaching the gelato-stand, Fratelli quickly ordered one chocolate cup and one cherry.

“I’m sorry sir, we are out of cherry,” the vendor said.

Fratelli shrugged.
            “I suppose I can try something different… I’d like chocolate then.”

Squinting in the sunlight, Fratelli leaned against a wall and ate the creamy dessert. Gianni suddenly tugged at his sleeve.

“Your Eminence,” he said, now pointing at the clock tower, “It is time to go.”

“Don’t you remind me what time it is,” Fratelli snapped then started towards the hotel. Gianni darted ahead of him and they increased their pace to a steady run. Gianni arrived first just as Jan and Mario were exiting the hotel. Fratelli lagged behind panting.

“Come on, Your Eminence, we will miss the noon train,” Jan cautioned.

They boarded a carriage and Jan urged the driver to go fast. Fratelli had barely sat down when the carriage bustled forth at full speed. He fell over onto Mario who steadied him. Gianni laughed, his body being tossed about. It was fun for him! Fratelli on the other hand, clenched an armrest and frowned. Within a half hour, they reached the train station. Fratelli was last to step down as Jan pointed and cried out, “Look, the train is preparing to leave!”

Indeed, curls of white steam rose into the air as heavy, metallic pistons began to churn.

“Oh no!” Fratelli shouted, making a headlong dash.

The train hadn’t started moving yet, so they still might make it! Gianni outran him and quickly jumped aboard the train, signaling the conductor to stop. His voice lost amidst an increasing clatter, the conductor mouthed the words: “Hurry!”

Mario reached the train next and handed over Fratelli’s bags. Suddenly, there was a jolt. A loud screech rang out and the huge wheels came alive. The train was leaving! Jan’s feet scrambled for a lower step, Mario helped him aboard and Fratelli lastly approached, running frantically. He shouted in frustration, knowing the pavement was scraping his fine shoes, gathered strength and leapt up. Mario’s strong hand caught him. While Jan patted his back reassuringly, Fratelli went inside the cabin. He breathed heavily from exertion, wiped his sweaty forehead and smiled faintly.

“Thank you O Lord!” he gasped “but I do not want that to ever happen again!”

The conductor took their tickets and led them to a private compartment. It looked very much like the place they sat before, probably was the same place. Saying nothing, Fratelli sat down in a plump seat and sighed with great relief. He lifted up his shoes and saw deep, scuff marks in the polished, black leather.

“Oh, my shoes…” he moaned.

“It is okay, Your Eminence,” Jan said, handing him a steaming cup of tea, “here.”

“Why, thank you,” Fratelli replied, taking small sips. The hot beverage calmed his nerves and he rested, staring out the window as trees and buildings blurred by. Now, he opened the crinkled pages of Rodolfo’s breviary and recited noonday prayer. Yes, he was rather late but remained content and at ease. Lateness seemed to be the tone of the day…

           

Chapter 15.

                        Home.

The train rhythmically clattered over the tracks. Fratelli leaned his head on one hand and stared out the window. Then gently, he reached for one of his bags and checked inside to make sure Dina’s teapot that he’d bought was still in one piece. Peeling away paper padding, he saw it looked fine. He checked the other gifts, careful not to reveal the licorice tin, and saw they were also safe. Sitting back in his seat, he sighed contently.

 Gianni, growing restless, asked to explore and Mario escorted him from the compartment. Now, it was just Jan and the cardinal. They eyed eachother but said nothing. This continued for several moments until Jan spoke,
            “Thank you, Your Eminence.”

                        “For what?”

                        Jan answered, “For being so gracious to me.”

            Fratelli suppressed a groan at the flattering words but knew that Jan truly meant it. Four months ago, when they’d met, Jan was serving the arrogant Lamberto II, son of the Duke of Tuscany. He practically begged Fratelli to hire him instead and the cardinal obliged. Since then, things were well. Feeling idle, Jan stood up and offered to fetch more tea.

                        “I would like that,” Fratelli said.

            Jan returned followed by Mario and Gianni. The boy began prattling about train wheels and steam, obviously amazed at this mode of travel.

                        “I want to be a train conductor when I grow up,” Gianni said.

                        “I thought you wanted to be a cardinal?” Mario replied.

            Fratelli straitened in his seat, smiling, secretly delighted at hearing this. Gianni gave him an apologetic look then concluded, “I’ll be both!”

They ate a light, satisfying lunch. Fratelli took the bowl of olives and mixed them into his bowl of cold ham salad. The hours dragged by into evening and then into night when at last; Lucca’s walls and flickering lamplights became visible from the window.

                        “Oh, we are home!” Fratelli shouted excitedly.

            The train began slowing and Fratelli prematurely jumped up, ready to leave. Suddenly the train stopped and jolted him. He tumbled back into his seat.

                        “Oh, Your Eminence!” Jan cried, rushing to help him.

            Fratelli nudged him away, stood and dusted himself off. Then, assuming a dignified air, pretending nothing happened; he opened the compartment door and led them out. Lucca’s ornate station greeted them. Tiredly, Fratelli stepped down onto the platform and yawned. Jan grabbed his arm to steady him.

                        “I’m fine,” the cardinal mumbled.

            They bid Mario a farewell and began walking to a stagecoach that waited. Wordlessly and wearily, they boarded, even Gianni making no sound. When they arrived to Fratelli’s dimly lit villa, the hour already drew past midnight. Dina came outside, carrying a bright lamp as Fratelli stepped onto the grass.

                        “Oh, Your Eminence, we’ve missed you!” she said.

                        “I missed being home as well,” Fratelli answered.

            He followed her inside and the smell of stewing vegetables hit his nose. His sides started aching…he didn’t realize how hungry he was. Gianni, of course, darted into the dining room and helped himself to the warm pot. Fratelli whispered a short blessing as the boy scooped food onto his plate. Then, he also ate. Rodrigo came from upstairs, himself looking very tired and met them.

                        “Oh, am I glad to see you!” Fratelli cried, “And you too Dina!”

            “I am very glad to see you, Your Eminence, it’s been hard work running this place without you. Now I may be in need of a vacation,” Rodrigo replied.

They laughed together. Dina took Gianni and went home for the night. Fratelli secretly wondered how she would react once learning of Gianni’s scuffle and the ruined suit. The hour was getting too late for thinking. Sitting at the table, he stifled a yawn.

“I must retire,” he said.

“Go on, go on,” Rodrigo said, “Your bed is waiting.”

Cardinal Fratelli readily went upstairs, washed his face and then lay down. He fell asleep fully-dressed, not bothering to put covers on. The next morning he awoke along with the rising sun. Yellow light warmed his skin as he sat up and stretched. He felt relaxed, vivified and very content, ready to face a new day. He washed, dressed in his usual red cassock and then went downstairs.

“Oh, a beautiful morning indeed!” Fratelli said to himself, “Thank you Lord for such a restful vacation! It has restored my strength and whatever this day holds I shall meet with anticipant vigor!”
             While excitedly rushing to breakfast, his feet slipped on the hall’s Oriental rug. Hearing a clatter and a thud in the hallway, Dina smiled. He was back.

       ~ The End.