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

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

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.

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. 11-12

Chapter 11.

Gifts.

Fratelli awoke the next morning with a terrible itch on his back. Trying to reach it, he tossed and turned. Finally, in frustration, he threw off the linen bed-sheets. He craned his arm around, trying again and unexpectedly rolled off his bed. Jan emerged as he lay there, rubbing his back against the wood floor.

“Your Eminence- what on earth are you doing?” the utterly perplexed servant stammered.

 Fratelli scrambled afoot, dusted himself off and nonchalantly dismissed the whole affair.

“Do not bother asking,” he said.

Jan didn’t.

Come noon, Fratelli shared lunch with Gianni, Jan and Mario. When a cool breeze from the nearby, open window brushed his face, Fratelli longed to go outside. He checked the wood-framed clock perched beside him on a fireplace which read: 12:12. There was still much of the town he hadn’t seen.  He finished eating, walked upstairs and donned his casual attire. Gianni stopped him at the door, begging to come with.

“No, not today Gianni,” Fratelli answered.

“Please…”

“Now, I need some time for myself,” Fratelli insisted, pausing to grab a scarlet cloak and likewise-colored, broad hat.

However, he felt sorry for the boy and turned back. Handing some coins over to Jan, he asked him to take Gianni out and perhaps buy him some badly-needed new clothes.

Noonday brought crowds to the main piazza where Fratelli wandered, looking at the many market stalls and café’s that lined the street. Mario followed in the distance but was easily ignored. Touching his chin, he wondered what to buy… Seeing him pass, a large man shouted and held up a shiny vase. Fratelli became more interested however in a stall brimming with religious statues. He had wanted to get gifts for everyone at home. A bronze statuette of St. Michael the Archangel, fiercely gleaming in the sun, caught his eye.

A small-framed man with grey hair greeted him, “Hello, do you see anything you like?”

“Yes, I would like this St. Michael,” Fratelli answered.

He paid for the statue, put in in his cloth satchel and smiled. This would be perfect for Ernesto who needed heavenly protection when on his patrol duties. “Now, what shall I get for the others?” Fratelli asked himself.

A woman nearby was selling jewelry and Fratelli remembered how much Michele loved exotic hairclips. His hands quickly chose a nice barrette made of coral, inlaid with pearls. It reminded him of the sea. Michele would love it! Fratelli suddenly turned at hearing a loud voice:
            “Beautiful dinnerware and napkins, unlike any in town, sold here!”

Fratelli couldn’t help but investigate.

“Oh, greetings fine gentleman,” the vendor said, twirling his mustache, deep in thought, “Perhaps you would like these red napkins to match your coat?”

Fratelli shied away from the red bundle presented to him.

“Oh, no, I’m tired of red. My shoes are red, my socks are red, my hat is red, my gloves are red, my buttons are red, merciful goodness, I do not want red napkins!”

“Perhaps blue is your color?” the vendor asked.

“Yes, I like them much more,” Fratelli replied, accepting the blue bundle of soft, silky napkins.

These were perfect for Francine…

Afterwards, Fratelli found a nice teapot for Dina and a tin filled with glistening licorice candy for Gianni. With satisfaction, he smiled. Everyone now had a gift.

Nearing the edge of the palatial piazza, Fratelli wiped some sweat from his brow. He sat down on a bench beneath a shady tree, collecting together his things. Feeling thirsty, Fratelli stood and wandered to a café where he sipped fresh lemonade. Sitting, eyes closed, he sipped the cool, tart beverage.  It was nice being here in regular clothes, without the hordes of people who usually assailed him asking for blessings, advice and attention. Vacation…

His back began itching. Fratelli squirmed, trying to reach the itch with one hand. Oh, why now! Seeing him in such torment, a young man approached.

“You look like you may need one of these,” he said, lifting up an ivory backscratcher.

“Oh, yes, yes!” Fratelli said.

He stood up, eager to snatch the useful tool.

“Ah, ah, you must pay first…”

Grumbling, Fratelli handed over some coins then took the backscratcher and furiously drew it across his back. At last, the itching was relieved! He strolled from the marketplace and thanked God.

Chapter 12.

The Scuffle.

Arriving back to the hotel, Fratelli was abruptly greeted by Mario who held a crumpled letter in his hand. With patience, Fratelli set down the various gifts he had bought at the marketplace, took the letter from Mario’s waving hand and unraveled it. He read aloud:

To the Most-Reverend Cardinal Fratelli,

I deeply apologize that this news has come with such short notice and promise to make it up to you.  The last time we met together, I entirely forgot to mention that on this night, I’m attending the Primate’s ball and that I’m allowed to invite one guest. Please, if you can make time and energy, come as my guest. Needless to say, I hope to meet you at the grand foyer of the Primate’s estate, at 7’O’clock this evening.

Your friend,

Rodolfo Fierri, Archbishop of Pisa.

Fratelli paused, stricken by this sudden turn of events. All he said was:

“7’O’clock? Gianni won’t even be in bed yet…”

Hearing his name, Gianni strolled in.

“What is it?” he asked.

Ignoring him, Fratelli asked Mario:

“What shall I do?”

Mario answered, “I would go- it’s a rare opportunity.”

“What’s a rare opportunity?” Gianni continued.

“Who will watch after Gianni?” Fratelli then asked.

Waving his arms in frustration, Gianni cried out: “I’m right here!”

“Okay…okay…” Fratelli mumbled, sitting down and pondering, “Though I feel quite tired, I can’t risk offending the Archbishop of Pisa, despite his short notice, and I certainly can’t make it seem as if I’m avoiding the Primate of this fine city.”

“So, you’ll go?” Mario inquired.

Absolutely annoyed at being ignored, Gianni jumped between Fratelli and Mario. He put one hand on Fratelli’s knee, peered up boyishly and asserted:

“Please tell me what is going on!”

Hiding his irritation, Fratelli finally answered the boy:

“We are going to a dance.”

Gianni moaned and stuck out his tongue.

“I don’t know how to dance,” he grumbled.

“Well then, we’ll have to teach you,” Fratelli said.

~ ~ ~

It was a small affair, a very private party with a harpsichord playing softly and hors d'oeuvres. Cardinal Fratelli arrived along with the Gianni and Mario to meet Archbishop Rodolfo at the door. Wearing striking, purple finery, the archbishop greeted him with a big hug.

“I knew you would make it!”

“Yes, yes…” Fratelli mumbled, taken in by the quaint splendor of the party around them.

Women paraded past, clad in blue and magenta-pink dresses. Some waved oriental fans to keep cool. They bowed slightly in greeting Fratelli and Rodolfo then kept meandering by. Gianni’s eyes widened as he saw plates of food being carried by a couple servants. Before Gianni rushed off to grab a tasty morsel, he was introduced by Fratelli:

“Your Excellency, this is Gianni…”

Rodolfo caught Gianni’s small hand in his big hand and shook it. Fratelli raised an eyebrow but said nothing as Rodolfo laughed and let Gianni run towards the food. Fratelli dearly hoped that the boy wouldn’t spill anything on his new suit. He finally followed after and nibbled on some bruschetta squares with black olives. Though he personally favored green olives, he felt very glad that they served these. He wouldn’t dare say anything to disagree with his gracious hosts.

The Primate of Pisa sat at a nearby table, donned in a black suit, red cloak and glistening chains. He rose, seeing Fratelli and Rodolfo come forth.

“I am so glad you could make it, Excellency,” he said taking Rodolfo’s fat hand and kissing his ring. Then he saw Fratelli and did likewise, saying “I’m so glad you brought the esteemed Cardinal of Lucca! We’ve met before.”

Trapped in a conversation, Fratelli stood. He nodded and smiled as the Primate went on and on about how joyous this occasion was. Finally, the Primate sat next to his daughter Lydia. She looked in her twenties, wore a coral-colored dress and had her dark hair tied back. Rodolfo urged Fratelli to take his seat while more conversation began. Fratelli had barely enough time to eat more bruschetta and finish his glass of wine before the dancing started up. Gianni stared nervously at one of the young girls in a green dress, who stared back, giggled and covered her mouth.

“I’m afraid,” Gianni mumbled.

Fratelli understood that feeling all too well.

“Go ahead now,” he assured, gently moving Gianni forward with his hand, “Remember what I taught you and all will be fine.”

Hesitantly, Gianni grabbed the girl’s hand and lead her to the room’s center where other couples danced. The cardinal smiled, watching him grow bolder and begin to dance in step with the others. Gianni had once been a “no-good street urchin”. Now, he was a blossoming gentleman.

Turning back, Fratelli bumped into the Primate.

“Oh, my apologies!” he said, bowing.

“Nonsense,” replied the Primate, “I was just coming to ask you a favor.”

Leaning against the sturdy wall, Fratelli asked, “What is it?”

The Primate answered, “Well you see my daughter over there….She wants to dance with one of the eligible bachelors but I’m not so sure about it. They’re a bunch of rascals and she needs to be safe, but she also needs a partner- and that’s why I’d like you to dance with her.”

Fratelli’s jaw dropped. He hadn’t danced in years! Twenty years to be exact. And it just wasn’t proper for a clergyman... But could he risk offending his host, offending the people in this kind city? No, he had to make do somehow.

The Primate brought Lydia over to Fratelli, who stood, nervously removing his red zucchetto and then fidgeting with it. When the cardinal did nothing, the Primate gave a glare. So, Fratelli delicately took her hand and led her forth. They began to sway awkwardly, holding hands, distant from eachother.

“Your Eminence, what are you doing?”

“Well, I’m dancing with you…”

“This is not dancing.”

Lydia grabbed his arm and put it around her waist. They began stepping in

tune to the soft music.
         “Now, we’re dancing,” she said.
          Fratelli blushed horribly and looked away. Their dance lasted longer than he liked but at last, the music stopped and it was over! Blushing and sweating, he bowed politely to Lydia then left. Watching Fratelli resume his place at the table, Gianni and Rodolfo both laughed. Fratelli pouted, folding his arms.

                        The festivities ended early. Fratelli parted from Rodolfo and the boldly

grinning Primate of Pisa. He said a timid farewell also to Lydia. As they walked outside, embracing the cool, summer night, Gianni loosened the collar of his suit and sighed with relief. However, the boy’s energy was still plentiful. When they returned to the palace hotel, Gianni started skipping; his mind filled with happy memories of dancing with the nice, young girl. He took off towards the beach before Mario could grab him.

                        “Go after him,” Fratelli ordered, “I need to rest.”

Gianni stopped on the soft sand bank. He already outran Mario, wasn’t even tired and he laughed about it. Suddenly, he grew quiet when a lanky shadow fell over him: Bruno.

“I thought I told you to get out of here,” Bruno growled, grabbing Gianni’s collar.

            Furious, seeing they were alone, Gianni wrestled free and swung at him. His fist hit square in Bruno’s face.  His eyes squinting angrily, the other boy yelled, sprinted and tacked Gianni to the ground. Mario rushed forth, found them hitting eachother and rolling on the sand and he separated them. Seeing the adult and the glistening sword at his waist, Bruno thought he was a policeman. He instantly scrambled to his feet then ran off. Gianni stood and faced Mario as he scolded,
            “Fighting! Look at you…and you’ve ruined your new suit!”

                        “He started it,” Gianni protested.

                        “It doesn’t matter now. Let’s go inside.”

            Cardinal Fratelli stood up when they entered their room, Seeing Gianni’s torn suit and the small trickle of blood on his lips, he cried out and rushed to him.

                        “He was fighting with one of the neighborhood boys,” Mario explained.

            “Oh no, Gianni, why did you do this?” Fratelli asked, dabbing at Gianni’s face with his handkerchief. Then he added, “Oh… Dina is going to kill you for ruining this suit!”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Gianni asserted, “They started it by teasing me and telling me to get out of here.”

Fratelli straitened and said, “Well, you must be very careful- and stay inside from now on.”

He heard Gianni groan. Exasperated, the cardinal ignored him and sat down near the window. Looking out at black, night sky, he sighed. He silently wondered what Dina was doing back at home- and how Father Rodrigo was faring with the parish’s work. Things had grown quite stressful for Fratelli on this vacation and for a moment, just a moment, he felt homesick.

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 7-8

Chapter 7

The Silent Mass.

Early next morning, just as Jan woke Gianni for breakfast, one hotel maid alerted him that a very distinguished person wanted to see Cardinal Fratelli; The Primate of Pisa, who basically functioned as the city’s main governor. Jan darted back upstairs. Knocking on Fratelli’s door he shouted, “Your Eminence, it’s time to get up…and the Primate of Pisa wishes to see you.”

No response.

Anxiously, Jan knocked again.

“And hurry!”

No sound came from the door’s other side. Gently opening it, Jan gazed about an empty room. He immediately descended and told the maid that the cardinal had gone missing.

“Well, his appointment is at 9 this morning…” she said, walking off nonchalantly.

Jan grew nervous. He snatched Gianni prematurely from breakfast and as the boy gobbled down a last muffin, searched through the long hallway. Returning to Fratelli’s room, he finally let Gianni go. The boy rubbed his aching hand and asked,

“Where is His Eminence?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out!” Jan replied.

Suddenly, he noticed that Fratelli’s red skullcap along with his cross and ring were missing from the nearby nightstand. He was gone, perhaps on an early stroll. Pointing a finger at Gianni, Jan instructed,
            “You stay here.”

Then he dashed off to find the cardinal.

Outside, sun streamed down brightly, mist curled around the ocean front. It felt unusually hot and damp so Jan removed his small hat. Mario was standing by the door. Approaching, he quickly said,

“Have you seen Cardinal Fratelli?”

“No,” Jan said, “You neither?”

Shifting his weight nervously, Mario replied, “No I went to fetch him this morning, he was gone. I’ve been looking around the hotel yard for him then I came out here.”

“How could he just disappear?” Jan cried throwing up his hands.

“Now, now, don’t panic,” Mario said in assurance, “He is probably strolling. Let’s go look.”

At once, they took off down the walkway, combing the beach-area and the shady palm trees. No sign of the cardinal anywhere. Jan really began feeling nervous. He stopped briefly, raising his hand to his mouth, nibbling a bit on his nails. Mario paused beside him but Jan was not to be consoled.

“We lost a cardinal!” he muttered, “A Prince of the Holy Church! Gone right from under our noses…God forbid…”

“Stop it,” Mario said sternly, “If you keep worrying like this, you’ll never find him. Maybe he went to the cathedral.”

“But that’s such a long way from here!”

He didn’t continue his protest but rather followed right on Mario’s heels as he paced down the road. Several carriages passed by and people strolled en route to their daily work.  Jan craned his neck, trying to see between them yet did so in vain. He tried not to think of what may happen if they didn’t find Fratelli, tried to put the horrible consequences far from his mind.

~ ~ ~

Waiting in Fratelli’s deserted room, Gianni walked back and forth. He sat on the bed, discovered the cardinal’s rosary and began playing with it. Then, growing bored, he set it down and left. How could they tell him to just stay there all day when a whole new town surrounded him, waiting to be explored! Gianni slunk downstairs, past the great lobby and walked out the door.

Humid air brushed against his face and he shed his heavy coat. Perhaps, it was perfect weather for swimming. Gianni went swimming yesterday and loved it. He loved the feel of the waves slapping his back and the water’s coolness.

Walking towards the moist sandy beach, Gianni heard a voices coming from behind a nearby tree.

“This is good Bruno, where did you get it?”

Another voice:

“Stole it from my papa- It will put hair on your chest Donny.”

The boys gathered behind the tree spotted Gianni several feet away. Bruno, who was the tallest, with short, black hair and dark, beady eyes, advanced asking:

“What are you doing here?”

Glancing up, Gianni answered:

“Just exploring…”

“You’re not from here are you?”

“No, I’m from Lucca.”

Suddenly, Bruno aggressively clutched at Gianni’s shirt collar and growled, “We don’t like out-of-towners, so get out of here.”

With that he shoved Gianni away. The others laughed as Gianni almost stumbled from the force. He recovered footing, angrily dusted himself off, made a sour face and prepared a good response. However, seeing the glaring boys, who were all older than him, he decided it best to flee.

Back the hotel, he pursed his lips, flushed angrily and sat in a chair with his arms folded. He would think of a way to show them…

~ ~ ~

Finally after a half hour, they reached the towering cathedral. It stood grey in morning light. Quietly, Mario stepped ahead and pried the huge, wooden door open. It creaked, causing him to cringe. Gingerly, they stepped inside the smoky, cool air, Jan trailing behind. Sure enough, Mario heard a small voice coming from the left. It spoke Latin. Off to the side altar, they saw a lean figure, wearing green vestments, with dark, curly hair. Jan moved forward, parting his lips to shout “Your Eminence!”

Only the word “Your-” escaped as Mario yanked him back and covered his mouth. Jan realized why. The cardinal was celebrating Mass. Facing the wall, deeply reverent and gently, he quietly lifted a small, round, white object in his hand as he muttered something inaudible. Seeing the Body of Christ right before him, Jan knelt on the ground. Mario remained standing and crossed himself. They patiently waited until the entire Mass was ended. Just as Fratelli turned around and faced them, Jan scrambled to him, shouting, “Your Eminence!”

Startled out of his deep pondering, suddenly jolted back to earth, Fratelli finally saw Jan running and shouting at him. He stopped short, put one finger over his mouth and replied,

            “Shhh…”

Grabbing the cardinal’s arm, Jan continued in a softer tone, “How could you just run off without telling anyone?”

“I was going to be back by noon,” Fratelli replied.

Then assuming an indignant stance, he added, “Perhaps I would like to go where I wish without be escorted everywhere?”

“But Your Eminence, the Primate of Pisa wanted to see you this morning. He is going to be so upset that you never showed.”

Fratelli suddenly touched his hand to his face,

“Merciful goodness!” he said, “How could I have forgotten!”

With that, he dashed past them. Still wearing vestments which flapped behind him, he hurried down the cathedral aisle and out the door.

“Let’s go” Mario remarked, “Before we lose him again.”

Fratelli paused at the cathedral’s steps. Gently, though hurrying much as he could, he removed his vestments then folded them in his hands and continued to run. The heavy cloth slowed him down and gasping from exertion, his pace dwindled to a brisk plod. Some people saw the cardinal crossing the street, vestments awkwardly lumped in his arms, panting and sweating. Most of them didn’t raise an eye but one man leaped to catch Fratelli, holding a square-shaped, scarlet hat in his hands.

“Your Eminence, you dropped this” he said, giving it to Fratelli.

“Oh, my biretta,” Fratelli muttered, seeing how dusty it was.

With his free hand, Fratelli took it, thanked the man and folded it also beneath his arm. This small intervention had given Mario enough time to catch up. Seeing Fratelli, he took the vestments and biretta from him.

“Why thank you,” the cardinal said, his voice raspy.

“Stay here,” Mario replied, “I’ll summon a carriage.”

 Chapter 8

Around Town.

Fratelli arrived at the primate’s palace in a frazzle. Standing within a large foyer, he tried to pat down his messy hair and stuffed it beneath his red zucchetto. When the primate entered, wearing a tailored, black suit with golden buttons and pressed, black pants, Fratelli straitened and let him bend to kiss his ring. Showing some frustration, the primate asked:

“Why did you keep me waiting so long?”

“I apologize,” Fratelli said, “I was saying Mass at the cathedral and its beauty…just drew me in.”

The primate’s rough laughter broke the tension. He gestured for Fratelli to sit down then sat in a wide chair across from him. A servant came forth with wine but Fratelli kindly asked for water. His throat was still very dry from running.

Soon breakfast arrived and they moved into a spacious dining room with pristine, white walls and lovely paintings. It was twice the size of Fratelli’s dining room. Gladly, Jan and Mario joined for breakfast. There were eggs, oysters, lemons, apples and pastry tarts. A nice, gold-flecked teapot sat at the table’s center.

As Fratelli sipped tea, the Primate spoke of Pisa, its ancientness and beauty then elaborated on the palace, his duties and the wonderful life there. He went on in long, proud sentences while Fratelli listened. He really couldn’t do anything else.

At noon, they finally arrived back at the hotel. Gianni met them in the lobby, “scolding” them for keeping him alone and bored. He did not tell of his unpleasant encounter with the other boys.

After Fratelli changed into his trousers, red-buttoned coat and hat, he decided to spend the day outside. Gianni felt unsure at first but looking to that place between the palms where the boys once stood, he saw they had left.

“Come, Gianni,” Fratelli said glancing over his shoulder, “We are going to enjoy some gelato.”

They had gelato, an ice-cream treat, in Lucca but Fratelli heard that Pisa’s variety was especially smooth and flavorful. He wanted to find out for himself. Hot sun beamed down on the cobbled streets, furthering their desire for something cold and sweet. At the end of a small, narrow block, children and adults alike thronged around the local gelato cart. Two teenaged girls laughed, seeing Gianni walk beside Fratelli but they turned back to finish their chocolate gelato, which melted quickly.

Mario stood far off, where he could survey Fratelli, leaning against a close wall. I suppose after this morning, they will never let me from their sight, Fratelli silently mused. He waited patiently in the line while Gianni continuously shifted and snorted impatiently. At last, they were in the front. Behind a rickety, old counter, a young man greeted them:

“Good day, what would you like?”

“Chocolate!” Gianni shouted.

Fratelli grinned then calmly said,

“Cherry.”

He paid and soon they held the cold reward in their hands. Gianni nearly drank the gelato down while Fratelli dabbed his with a spoon, taking small, fastidious bites. Carefully, he began walking and as a drip fell from his spoon, held it away from his garb. Just when Fratelli continued moving, a small boy meandered from his mother and bumped right into him. His tiny hand held a cup of chocolate gelato which happened to smear all over Fratelli’s shirt.

“Oh!” he gasped, drawing away, frantically searching for something to clean this horrible mess with.

The mother saw him, scolded her little boy and she kept apologizing over and over.

“Here,” she then said, grabbing a hand-cloth, “let me clean that for you.”

Fratelli stood, awkwardly grimacing as she wiped at his shirt, spreading the stain.

“No, it’s fine, I’ll go back and change,” he finally stated.

Grumbling under his breath, he darted away with rapt speed through the crowded people and towards the hotel. Approaching the lobby, Fratelli spotted a figure out of the corner of his eye, clad in purple. The Archbishop... probably waiting to see him. No, he couldn’t let him see him like this! Panicking, Fratelli strode away from the hotel towards the beach. There he knelt at the beach and tried washing the sticky gelato from his shirt. After some scrubbing and wringing, he emerged wet- but at least clean. Gianni snickered yet fell silent seeing a stern glare. Mario threw his cloak down onto the sand and sighing, Fratelli figured he’d rest on the beach and let sunlight dry him. Closing his eyes, trying to forget the awful incident, he started drifting asleep.

He woke staring straight into a pair of beady, crustacean eyes. A crab had wandered onto the cloak. It held its pinkish claws perilously close to Fratelli’s nose. Startled, Fratelli shrieked, jerked up and rose, grabbing the coat and beating it against the ground.

Mario came running.

“Your Eminence, what is wrong?”

“It’s a crab!” Fratelli shouted.

The thing finally fell off the cloak and scuttled away. Fratelli gladly watched it retreat across the sandbank.

The archbishop was gone by the time Fratelli returned. He felt somewhat grateful. Once upstairs, he changed into his regular, scarlet cassock and hung his other clothes from the window. Quickly, he sat by the window, gazed at the crescent-shaped moon and recited evening prayer. Then, he headed down for supper. Ironically, plates of steamed vegetables and pink crab-legs were laid out. He refrained from scowling- or perhaps even laughing.