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

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!

Story-time with Cardinal Fratelli, part 5

The cardinal finished speaking. Six, wide-eyed boys peered up at him. Fresh in their minds were images of the grey, grinning gargoyle, the two brothers carrying home treasure, the donkey trotting amidst palm branches and of course, the white-fanged wolf who seemed less scary now. When the cardinal brushed dirt off his red robes, ready to depart, little Paolo begged: “Please tell us one more…please?”

The priest-attendant stopped to examine the sky, minding it was late and shook his head. Cardinal Fratelli strode towards him, inciting many groans of disappointment. Paolo’s small finger dug into the train of his garment and he couldn’t bear to turn away.

“Alright then, I shall tell only one more story,” the cardinal said.

The boys cheered and resumed their places at his feet, Antonio standing, behind Stefano who squatted down, Paolo fidgeting beside them. Wasting not a moment, Cardinal Fratelli began his next tale:

“Two large stones once sat on a tall hilltop. They longed to see what lie on the hill’s other side but could not move themselves. Seeing a mouse, they asked him, “Please go to the hill’s other side and tell us what is there.”

Returning, the mouse said, “Tall grass is on the other side; towering mushrooms and lofty mountains. The creatures there are gigantic.”

No doubt, the rocks were surprised. So, when an eagle perched nearby, they asked her “Please go to the hill’s other side and tell us what is there.”

Returning, the eagle said, “There’s short grass, tiny flowers and small pebbles. The creatures there are itsy-bitsy.”

Then, a man came along, dragging a huge log and the rocks asked him, “The hill’s other side is a wondrous world that we’ve never seen, please carry us there!”

The man obliged. He tied both stones together and lugged them to the other side of the hill. Once there, the stones peered about eagerly. However, they found that this side of the hill looked exactly like the other… So do not be ungrateful for what you have my children."

Story-time with Cardinal Fratelli, part 4

“I am not leaving until I hear the story about the wicked wolf,” Antonio pouted.

He stood man-like, hands clenched into fists, arms crossing his chest. Stefano glanced back at him, somewhat fearful that he would hiss or pinch again. Paolo glued his eyes on the scarlet-clad cardinal.

“It is growing late, near time for Vespers, but I shall tell one last tale,” Cardinal Fratelli decided aloud.

Ceasing his anger, Antonio sat down inches from the cardinal’s feet. Fratelli eyed him, this impetuous, mean-spirited youth and sighed. Slowly, he collected his thoughts and spoke in a voice that commanded attention:

“Oh, the wicked wolf, the wicked, wicked wolf… Everybody knows how scary he was- how wild and fierce! But do you know the way he was tamed? I will tell you then. You see, the wicked wolf prowled at night, growling and snatching away helpless people. Many people in the small village of Cocalo disappeared and they knew the wolf had gotten them. Now, outside this village lived a hermit monk. His name was Ferdo. His hair was dirty, full of clay from the river, his frame was thin from fasting and penance and his clothes hung in rags.

The wicked wolf raised such an outcry that parties began gathering to hunt and kill him. Surely this foul beast was no good, only fit to be slain! When the hunters marched out, Ferdo met them. In kindly voice, he implored, “Spare the wolf, he is just a beast and doesn’t understand. He doesn’t need to die. At least, let me talk to him before you go forth.”

Thinking Ferdo to be a madman, they laughed at him and said: “Sure, go talk to your wolf friend. But be warned, we will use our swords should we see him!”

Thus, Ferdo ventured out into the dark woods, went to meet the wicked wolf. As Ferdo sat in a glade praying, the sound of clawed feet came forth. It was the wolf, staring with bright yellow eyes, bearing his knife-like fangs.

Ferdo hid his fear and stood. Holding out his wooden staff, he spoke:

“Brother wolf, you have gotten yourself in some trouble. I know you are hungry and need flesh to live but why eat the villagers? Why take lives that do nothing to harm you? The man are angry and they come to slay you but listen brother wolf, we can help you-if you only promise never to kill again.”

Bewildered, for men always came at him with sword, axe and club, the wolf shook his head. Bowing down, he replied:
            “I am sorry, my brother. Truly I am hungry and need flesh to live. If you help me, feed me, and raise not swords against me, I shall promise never to kill again.”

Right before the huntsmen, Fredo appeared, leading the wicked wolf by his scruff as if he were a tame dog. He reiterated their words, the promise made between them and instead of slaying the wolf; the villagers laid out for him a whole chicken. He ate it timidly and went away. No more people were snatched away in the night. Peace came. From now, they remembered Fredo, remembered not to make the beasts into enemies. For with kind words and understanding, war will cease.”

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.

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. 9-10

Chapter 9.

Pointers.

The following morning, bright and early, Fratelli’s breakfast got interrupted by none other than Pisa’s archbishop. Lifting his dark purple garb off the carpeted floor, Rodolfo entered the large dining room, and stridently announced:

“Why, Cardinal Fratelli, you’re going to spend today with me!”

Fratelli couldn’t really refuse as Rodolfo laid a hefty arm on his shoulder and escorted him into the neighboring hallway. Seeing Fratelli’s plainly irritated expression, he closed the door behind them. Now ensured of privacy, he began,

“I’m deeply sorry if this is inconvenient for you… but I need your great wisdom.”

Stunned, feeling a lump in his throat and swallowing it, Fratelli answered:

“And what makes you believe I have great wisdom?”

“Oh, come on,” Rodolfo said, “Everyone knows you’re the best preacher in Italy!”

Cheeks flushing red, Fratelli glanced aside sheepishly.

“Well, I don’t know what you have heard, but I suppose I’ll try to help you,” he answered.

“Great!” cried Rodolfo.

With one hand excitedly grabbing Fratelli’s arm, he gladly led their way downstairs and outside.

Halfway to the cathedral, the two clergymen stopped into a small cafe for biscotti and coffee. Anticipation urged Rodolfo on and he suggested they finish this food while resuming their way. Not used to coffee’s strong taste, Fratelli drank slowly. Balancing a muffin in his other hand, he scrambled unsuccessfully and dropped the fine pastry.

“Merciful goodness…”

“What was that?” Rodolfo asked.

He didn’t yet discover the fallen muffin on the ground in front of them. Before taking another step, he finally looked down, saw it and frowned.

“Here, Your Eminence, take mine” he offered.

Fratelli waved his hands in a gesture of refusal then continued walking forlornly.

After about a half hour, they reached the huge cathedral. Fratelli hesitated, peering briefly at the leaning bell tower before he stepped indoors. The faint odor of incense greeted them. Wax clumped around cold candle-stands and faceless marble laid silently underfoot. It was altogether beautiful and struck oncemore by that beauty, Fratelli folded his hands and whispered thanksgiving to God.

“What did you say?” Rodolfo then asked.

Fratelli replied flatly, “I was simply praying.”

Several loudly advancing figures suddenly shattered the cathedral’s quiet grandeur. Four boys, ages between 12 and 14, wearing dusty red choir robes, came forth.

“Bon Giorno, Sua Eccellenza!” they chanted, their voices melting in a discordant tone.

 Rodolfo smiled and responded:

“Dio ti benedica. God bless you!”

 Fratelli paused, thinking. He then eyed the small choir. These boys struggled to remain still. The youngest wandered towards the central altar steps while the eldest crossed his arms and raptly ordered them back into formation. Pulling Fratelli aside, Rodolfo explained:

“As you can obviously see, my choir is badly disorganized and can’t hold a melody any better than a fish can breathe in a flowerpot…Please help me with them.”

“I’m not a musician,” Fratelli softly retorted.

“Please, Your Eminence?”

Rodolfo eyed him beggingly, like a puppy. His deep-set brown eyes seemed helpless.

Shifting his weight impatiently, the cardinal huffed, “Fine. I shall try.”

An hour was spent explaining psalm tones, perfect pitch and basic polyphony. At last, the inattentive boys mustered a chant which showed something of what they learned. Fratelli, though no choral expert himself, started teaching them an ancient introit. The song they repeated definitely sounded ancient- and definitely awful. Fratelli couldn’t make them stop. He eventually cringed, clasping both hands over his ears. Exasperated, Rodolfo blessed and dismissed them.  Feeling lifted from a great burden, Fratelli strode away, eager to depart. However, the archbishop called him back.

“What now?” he mumbled sharply, pausing in his tracks.

“Please, help me with one more thing? It’s extremely important,” Rodolfo pleaded.

Gazing at the side altar, where St. Joseph stood encased in white stone, Fratelli silently prayed, “Lord, grant me patience!”

Rodolfo’s next request surprised him:

“Please, good Cardinal Fratelli, teach me to preach.”

“How is it that you cannot preach?”

“Well, of course, I can say a sermon,” Rodolfo stammered, a bit shameful, “…but I don’t do very well. My flock, they get bored with my words. I know they aren’t really listening. And I also know you are famous for your preaching. So, while you’re here, I figured you can give me some pointers?”

“Pointers?”

“Yes, tell me what I can do better!”

Fratelli touched his chin, pondering. Then he asked:

“Well then, I’ll need an example of yours. Tell me a homily… perhaps preach upon Mark’s Gospel…let’s see- oh yes, chapter 6 verse 7?”

Rodolfo settled his thoughts for a few minutes. He at last, approached the altar, descended the steps, turned and spoke:

“Mark 6, verse 7… The calling of the Twelve Disciples: “And he called the twelve; and began to send them two and two, and gave them power over unclean spirits.”  Here Jesus calls his disciples…”

A long pause ensued. Fratelli gestured, as if saying: “go on.”

“And these disciples were important because it’s important for a teacher…um… a teacher needs to have students. Good students and not bad ones. Why? Because God loves good disciples…”

Frustrated, Fratelli waved for Rodolfo to stop. Silently, the cardinal wondered what thing he had done to deserve such insufferable annoyance.  Standing beside the profoundly embarrassed Rodolfo, Fratelli grabbed his hand, touched the ring, which adorned his thick knuckles and said:

 “I wasn’t going to suggest anything at first- but after hearing such words, I feel much obliged. By God’s grace, I simply cannot allow you to preach this badly!”

Releasing his hand, Fratelli then pointed back towards the high altar, at the golden tabernacle which housed the Body of Christ. Raptly, he fetched the book of Gospels that lay nearby, opened it to Mark, chapter 6 and read aloud their chosen verse. He bade the archbishop read it. When Rodolfo finished, Fratelli could barely contain his unrest as he lectured the poor man:

“Keep away from redundancy- unless you are posing a question and never answer a question that’s never been asked…and for goodness sake, never say “um…”!”

Rodolfo launched his sermon anew. It began nicely then faded into a sea of scattered “um’s” and aimless expressions. At this point, Fratelli paced below the pulpit, groaning and seriously considering if he should hit him with the Gospel book.

Chapter 10.

                        The Boat-Ride.          

Fratelli arrived back at the hotel, tiredly slumping. Mario faced him, widely smiling, holding his scarlet cloak and hat. Several servants flocked around.

                        “What now?” Fratelli asked.

            “Your Eminence, it’s going to be wonderful” Mario replied, “We’re having dinner on the ocean. The Primate lent us his sailboat!”

A man in a blue coat with shiny, golden buttons stepped forth. He had blue pants and a white hat, obviously a seaman of some sort. He bowed, kissing Fratelli’s ring.

                        “Your Eminence, let us take you for a boat ride,” he said.

            Before the word “okay” fell out of Fratelli’s mouth, they were leading him outside. He wrapped the cloak around his shoulders then stopped as Gianni caught up to him. The boy was grinning from ear to ear, absolutely delighted. He had never been on a boat before and Fratelli had only been in one once.

Soft wind blew over them, sending salty warmth as they reached the wide harbor. The whitewashed docks creaked underfoot and various boats bobbed up and down as waves slapped them. They stopped before a tall sailboat, its deep walnut wood sides gleamed in sunlight and white, canvas sails flapped idly in the wind. Fratelli paused and cautiously blessed the vessel before he’d dare step foot on it. The seaman graciously thanked him, bowed again then led them aboard. In an odd sort of procession, cooks and servers poured onto the boat. Gianni hungrily eyed their covered dishes. Mario and Jan came last. Sitting down, Fratelli could see the waves scattering sunlight into hues of green, pale blue and silvery-grey. He also felt them rocking the boat as it sailed from the harbor. He watched the land grow distant and shrink in his sight. However, he did not betray his stiffness, nor did he frown at the unnecessary attention he was receiving.

Jan got him a parasol and a pillow for his feet. Gianni himself enjoyed the attention. He smiled as Mario handed him a bright red ball.  The servers set stuffed clams, chicken and grapes before him. Fratelli stood and spoke:

“Thank you, O Lord, for this day and for these gifts of food and friendship. In your glorious name we pray for joy and length of life...”

 Swept up in his emotions, he began praying in Latin: “Gloria Patri, et Fillio et Spiritui Sancto…”

He suddenly grew frightened by the boat’s swaying, hurriedly waved in benediction then sat down. Clear skies eased his apprehension and chilled white wine. Resting his feet, he closed his eyes. Gianni watched the constantly shifting ocean. The humming sound of the waves crashing against the boat’s bow bored him. He stood up and bounced his ball. Finding it difficult to run on the moving vessel, he laughed. It was simply more entertainment. Coming to the back of the boat where Fratelli lounged, Gianni tossed the ball in his hand then threw it at the unwary cardinal.

“Catch!”

The ball whizzed past Fratelli’s head as his eyes fluttered open. It loudly smacked the back of his chair.

“Gianni, watch what you are doing!” he scolded.

The boy smirked and mischievously laughed. Upset, Cardinal Fratelli scowled, stood up and started chasing him. As Gianni rounded the deck of the boat, Fratelli pursued, hot on his heels. Then the boy swerved. Unable to slow down fast enough, Fratelli stumbled at the deck’s edge; wildly spread his arms and fell overboard! There was some shouting. Mario dashed out of the cabin at once and heroically dove after him.  Pulling himself back onto the boat, Fratelli shook Mario away.

“I will be alright…” he grumbled.

Gianni had stopped laughing. He eyed Fratelli with an ashamed expression. Jan laid a blanket around the soaked cardinal, removed his drenched cloak and tried to soothe him.

“I am fine already,” Fratelli said again, hugging the blanket tight.

There was silence.

“I’m so sorry…Your Eminence” Gianni finally stuttered, “I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay,” Fratelli said, looking away towards the setting sun, feeling somewhat ashamed that his own temper had gotten the best of him. They were heading back to land. He would be dry soon and all would be forgotten.

A Vacation for Cardinal Fratelli, ch. 5-6

Chapter 5.

Lovely Pisa

The train arrived in Pisa at about 2:00 noon. Fratelli was glad to set his feet on the ground as he stepped off the train and onto an ornate, platform. Gianni followed, stretching his legs awkwardly strutting like a rooster. Jan and Mario said nothing. They simply carried the cardinal’s bags, directing him into town.

This section of Pisa sat right next to the coast. Well within sight, the ocean’s crystal blue waters glittered and stretched endlessly towards the horizon. Gianni gaped.

“Ooohh…”

He then turned, yanking on Fratelli’s sleeve,

“Can I go swimming, please?” he begged.

“We’ll see. First we must be settled in,” Fratelli answered.

The cardinal strolled, ducking his head somewhat, trying look inconspicuous and failing because of his scarlet garb. Several people stopped, bowed and greeted him. One woman ran up to him, asking advice about her children. Gianni laughed, seeing Fratelli caught off guard, stumbling over his words. After the woman left, he quickly darted towards the palatial hotel, which was near the capitol hall and reserved for esteemed visitors. More people greeted him, some polite talk was exchanged and finally, Fratelli was lead to his room where immediately, he shooed Gianni away and shut the door behind him. Outside, Mario and Jan exchanged glances then shrugged. Gianni, seeing he couldn’t open the door, insisted on something to eat. It sounded just about right.

Sighing with profound relief, hearing no sound but faint birds’ chirping and tree limbs rusting in the wind, Fratelli sat down in a nice chair by the window. He felt all the weight of his ecclesiastical duties leaving him, slowly dripping away...Vacation… Sunshine flowed in, touching his face, bringing a smile.

“Thank you, O Lord,” he whispered.

Fratelli quietly unpacked and changed into a black suit accented with red buttons, black trousers, tall, red stockings and black shoes. When he emerged from his room, the others looked up from eating and Gianni gawked.

“You’re wearing pants!” he blurted out.

Fratelli laughed,

“Well, I am on vacation.”

He approached their dining table and sat for some time, eating some hearty soup, cheese, bread and rolled up prosciutto. Finishing with a small glass of sweet red wine, he glanced at the window, at bright sun beaming down and cheerful city buildings. Beneath the table, he shuffled his feet, anxious to get outside. Finally, Fratelli rose and set off down the hallway. Mario followed close behind. Gianni scampered after but Jan held him back.

“Want to go swimming?” he suggested, hoping to distract him

It worked, for the boy’s eyes lit up and a smile widened on his rosy lips.

“Yes, yes, let’s go!”

Grabbing Gianni’s bag, they left.

Hearing Mario’s soft footfalls behind him, Fratelli walked outside and squinted in bright sunlight. A fine Mediterranean breeze swept over him, cooling his head. Although Mario clutched a broad- rimmed, black hat with red cords, Fratelli didn’t feel any use for it. He enjoyed cool wind against his hair. Closing his eyes and smiling, Fratelli headed towards the coastline. People in large crowds gathered there, some children playing, lovers strolling hand-in-hand, families picnicking and groups of women swimming in long, white dresses. Best of all, they ignored Fratelli as he made his way through.

Deep green foam lapped the sandy shore ahead of him. Removing his shoes and carefully rolling down his socks, the cardinal carefully placed them on the sand well away from the water. He then walked forth, dipped one foot into the cold water as Mario distantly watched. He giggled boyishly then strolled bare foot on the wet sand. He dared not enter the water, making sure he remained dry from the ankles up. When this brief reverie had ended, Fratelli recovered his shoes and socks then put them back on. Appearing dignified as ever, he marched back between two palm trees where an iron-wrought bench waited and sat.

He watched the bustle around him. A small boy bumbled on the pathway, holding a red balloon in his hand. It bobbed upwards but did not escape that little, tightly clutched hand. His mother hurried behind him. Growing rather restless himself, Fratelli rose and began walking.

He covered about a mile before passing a second bench where several young ladies in summer dresses congregated. The one who stood closest to him idly twirled a pale, blue parasol. She called out to him as he passed.

            “Yes, do you need something?” Fratelli asked.

            She just laughed, smiling coquettishly, staring at him. He stared back, attentive to her dark eyelashes and vivid eyes…green like a ripe vine. Now, as he was staring, Fratelli didn’t realize he still walked. He swerved off the pathway and collided face-first into a palm tree! More laughing.

Utterly embarrassed at being distracted so badly- and easily, Fratelli darted away. Once far down the path, he took his hat from Mario and pulled it over his eyes, feeling somewhat ashamed. Certainly seeing Pisa’s grand cathedral would take his mind off of this…

A long walk from the beach, rested Pisa’s sprawling Piazza Dei Miracoli, called “The Square of Miracles”. It indeed looked miraculous, as something fashioned by the hand of God. Standing at the center, tall and casting a stout shadow, was the cathedral. Strangely, unlike every other cathedral, this one had its bell-tower standing separately off to the left. And unlike any other bell-tower, Fratelli had ever seen, this one leaned peculiarly, as if it were ready to come crashing down- yet stayed in place. This leaning tower reminded him almost of himself, stately, stern but a little off. Coming around to the cathedral’s front, he gazed up at its pearly, white façade. He realized then, he must go inside.

Chapter 6.

The Archbishop

Soft light bounced off the cathedral’s coffered ceiling as Fratelli strolled in, quietly, carefully, his footsteps making scarce a sound. Sheer beauty surrounded him. This cathedral appeared new while the one in Lucca seemed old and dusty. Fratelli had tried time and time again to remove that dustiness and by then, grew used to it. However, he couldn’t get used to these ornate and spotless surroundings. Approaching the high pulpit and the main altar, he held in his breath, afraid that should he breathe too hard, someone would rush upon him. But no one was even there.

Suddenly, Fratelli’s eyes fell to the left, on a small but elaborate side-altar hewn of pink marble and white porphyry. A thin ray of sun illuminated the face of St Joseph’s stone statue, beckoning Fratelli for a closer look. Such a kindly, paternal face…it was beautiful, the most beautiful altar he’d ever seen. He drew up to it and laid a hand on the cold, stone surface. Then immediately, he knelt.

“O Lord, I thank you for this silent time in your presence. Please strengthen me during this vacation…oh, and please forgive me for being distracted by that woman…I am sincerely sorry, having not guarding myself, for you created their eyes to be very beautiful. Why did you make them so beautiful? Well, Lord, I feel grateful that I am here in one piece. Thank you for this altar and if I may return the following morning, I would wish to say Mass here…”

Heavy footfalls interrupted his thoughts. Hastily, he concluded:
            “Holy Saint Joseph, custodian of the Most Holy Christ-child, please pray for me.”

Standing and tracing a cross over his chest, Fratelli faced a heavyset, grey-haired man. He had a small beard and wore draping, purple robes with a matching skullcap. A golden cross glittered around his neck.

“Well, you must be His Eminence, Cardinal Fratelli. Hello!” he said boisterously, opening his arms as if to embrace Fratelli.

When Fratelli awkwardly remained, frozen in place, the man put down his arms. He wondered about Fratelli’s lack of openness then stated:

“I am Rodolfo Fierri, the Archbishop of Pisa!”

Smiling, Fratelli let the archbishop embrace him and heartily pat his back, like a big brother would. Coughing, Fratelli withdrew, nervously folding his hands.

“I heard you were coming here to Pisa,” Rodolfo continued, “I knew it was you…I just knew it!”

Fratelli scratched his chin. Did the entire world know that he was on vacation?

“It is very pleasant to meet you as well, Your Excellency,” he then replied.

“Come, come, enough talk, let me show you around,” the archbishop exclaimed, putting one hand congenially on Fratelli’s shoulder.

Leisurely, they dallied about the vast cathedral, exploring this or that nook and cranny, this statue, that painting and of course, the wonderful side altars. As noon light began to fade, withdrawing from the windows, Rodolfo invited Fratelli inside his home to dine.

“I apologize, I must be back with my own company,” the cardinal said.

Rodolfo understood, nodding and smiling. Fratelli gave a respectful farewell then turned to leave. He suddenly stopped halfway down the cathedral’s long aisle and asked:

“If I could acquire a breviary for temporary use, it would be splendid.”

His voice echoed through the vaulted interior. He covered his mouth, not realizing how loudly it had carried. However, Rodolfo remained unperturbed, friendly as ever, grinning ear-to-ear. His reply resounded back:

“Of course, anything for you Cardinal Fratelli!”

~ ~ ~  

It was evening, around 5 O’clock when Fratelli returned to the palace hotel. Coming into his room, setting his borrowed breviary on a nearby stand, the first thing he heard was Gianni’s shrill exclamation:

“Wow, look at all this food!”

Indeed, the dining table was strewn with stewed clams in tomato sauce, crab-legs swimming in garlic butter and a roasted hen on a bed of bright, green vegetables. Two elegantly-clad servers waited for Fratelli and seeing him emerge, they bowed reverently, took his hat, and seated him. Gianni’s hand quivered, reaching for one of the crabs when Jan stopped him.

“You know we give the blessing first…” he said.

“Oh hurry- please hurry!” Gianni moaned.

Fratelli laughed, seeing the boy’s anticipation. He stood, lifted his hands and pronounced God’s blessing over the food. Soon as the word “amen” was spoken, Gianni descended upon the food like a starving fox. Fratelli winced, reminding him about good manners.

The fare tasted delightful, Fratelli acknowledged, biting into a piece of tender chicken. It nearly melted in his mouth. He also sampled all of the seafood and savored it. They drank dry white wine, which perfectly complimented the hearty flavor of the clams. Fratelli smiled. His vacation was finally beginning to feel like a vacation.