Father Elijah

by Michael D. O'Brien

  None replied.

  “The Lord is close, my brothers. The time is not far off.”

  “You seem troubled, Father”, said Stato.

  “I am. In my heart is a confirmation of all that you have said. It is in a manner of speaking, the unfolding of a blossom that has been budding within me for most of my life. It has opened here in a few short minutes, and suddenly I see the events of my past in an entirely new light.”

  “Tell me of this new consciousness. What do you see?” said the Pope.

  “I am unsure of it, Holy Father.”

  “This light which has shone upon your life is not new to us. For many years we have known of you and loved you as a son, though you knew nothing of our attention. Your life has been full of suffering. You have been tried in the furnace of affliction in a way that few men endure. You have emerged a man of faith. That is rare.”

  “There are many like me.”

  “There are many watching trees blooming in the world. None with those qualifications which bring you to this place at this moment in history.”

  “Perhaps it is time to speak of that, Holy Father”, said Dottrina.

  “Father Elijah, many wolves are presently circling my flock. I repeatedly call my flock to vigilance, but few of them hear my voice. Many of the lambs are pulled from us and destroyed. Many. Many.”

  The Pope’s eyes filled with grief.

  “Certain figures on the world’s stage are now moving toward the flock for a definitive attack. They are approaching the moment when they will exert every effort at division and destruction. They are crying peace, peace, but there is no peace. Their hearts are full of murder. They hate the flock of God, and yet everywhere they are proclaimed as saviors. This too lies within the plan of divine Providence. This too He permits, for the final confrontation between the Church and the anti-Church must come. It can only be put off from generation to generation. In our time, I believe, it has come.”

  “How can I help you, Holy Father?”

  “A man is rising in global power. I have prayed for this man for many years. Early in my pontificate, his face arose before me while I was at prayer. To all the world he appears as a kind of secular saint. The press lauds him as a man of destiny. His face is on the covers of journals, on the television, in essays and editorials, and his books are selling in the millions. He has reinvigorated a lagging European Parliament. He is being courted by the United Nations as the one man who can moderate a peaceful transition from the era of nation-states to world federation.”

  Elijah knew the name of the man even before Stato spoke it.

  “You are familiar with this name?”

  “Yes, Eminence. I have heard of little else since leaving the monastery.”

  “In addition to the presidency of the European Parliament, he is the current director of the Council of Western Nations, consultant to the United Nations, and member of the Club of Rome. He is on the board of directors of several of the world’s most prosperous corporations. He has controlling interest in a publishing empire, a Swiss bank, and Globaltek, the firm which has revolutionized computer imaging technology. He is also the founder of Centro Mondiale Commercial, possibly the world’s most important trade center. There are other accomplishments too numerous to mention.”

  “There are many who are openly against Christ,” said the Pope, “and others who come falsely in the name of Christ. But this one who stands quietly among them is more powerful than them all. His moment in history is approaching.”

  “Does it disturb you?” asked Dottrina.

  “I am not so much disturbed as puzzled. What is my role in this?”

  “I ask you to be a messenger.”

  “A messenger, Holy Father?”

  “I desire to warn him of his personal spiritual danger. I must warn him that he could drag the world into the abyss.”

  “Would not a personal meeting between yourself and him be more effective?”

  “I have asked him to visit me, but he will not come. There is always some excuse. I understand now that this man is politically astute.”

  “Why won’t he come?”

  “He wishes it to be seen in the world’s press that he does not come to the Pope; the Pope comes to him. I would gladly go to him and wash his feet if it would move his soul to repentance. But he would see the gesture only as a ripe plum falling into his hands. It would do more evil than good.”

  “The media would be present”, Stato interjected. “A photograph of this would be worth to him, in propaganda value, a thousand newspaper articles.”

  “He wishes to use the Church for as long as he needs her”, said the Pope. “But he despises her, because he has never understood her divine nature. He does not understand her strength. He thinks she is only a human institution. The human aspect of the Church is flawed, wavering, internally divided, badly shaken by the events of this century. She is a weak thing in his eyes, a thing to be used and then destroyed when it suits him.”

  “You find this difficult to believe?” said Dottrina, holding Elijah in his gaze.

  “It is difficult to believe that any human being could be that callous.”

  “Is it so difficult? You say this, you who suffered during the Holocaust?”

  “A good point, Eminence.”

  “He is not openly against us, at least not yet”, said the Pope. “But he is preparing. There still may be time. There may be hope beyond hope. I do not call any man Antichrist while his soul hangs in the balance, while he is still free to choose the good. But with utmost certainty, I tell you that his ideas move in the realm of Antichrist. Even so, Christ would come for even one man. Christ died for this man.”

  “You wish to send me to him?”

  “Yes.”

  “I am afraid.”

  “I would be gravely concerned if you were not afraid.”

  “I do not have sufficient wits to battle a. . .”

  Stato interjected: “The President appears to the entire world to embody the very best in human nature. He counts heavily on that image. Although there is a hidden side to him, we are blessed with a short period during which he preserves the public appearance of goodness. This is the moment when you may speak the truth to him. In a year, two years from now, it may be too late. The loss in human souls would be catastrophic.”

  “The loss of even one soul is catastrophic”, said the Pope. “This is a terrible responsibility, Father. I do not exact obedience from you. I ask it of you. Will you be the bearer of my message to this man?”

  Elijah hesitated. He knew that he was free to decline. He could return on tomorrow’s flight to Israel, bury himself in Carmel, pray for the endangered souls, pray for the conversion of the false lord of the world, pray for the Pope—yes, and wonder for the rest of his life what might have been had he agreed.

  “I ask you to go and bear witness to him while there is still time.”

  “I will go.”

  A noticeable exhalation escaped from the three men who sat facing Elijah.

  “Thank you”, said the Pope. Stato supplied the details:

  “Father Elijah, you are to meet the President in order to present a report of the Pontifical Commission for Biblical Archeology on the new discoveries in caves near Ephesus and by the Dead Sea. The scrolls therein effectively date the writings of the Gospels to the time of the apostles and confirm the accuracy of orthodox translations, thus confounding modernist biblical criticism. The President is a devotee of archeology and classical studies. This report will be delivered as a gesture of personal welcome to the incoming President of the European Parliament and as a first gesture of dialogue between the Vatican City State and the new government. The ostensible purpose of the meeting is an exchange of courtesies. In private conversation with the President, however, you will attempt to discover his covert intentions and relay a message of spiritual exhortation from His Holiness the Pope. You must conduct your side of the exchange in the most cordial manner. You must use the utmost discret
ion. If the warning cannot be communicated to good effect, either through interference or lack of receptivity on his part, you must then attempt to establish a means of continuing the dialogue.”

  “Is this clear?” asked Dottrina.

  “I see that you have suggested the general parameters, yet it leaves room for creativity.”

  “Certainly. You are not a cipher, Father. We could send a fax or a diplomatic note. Instead, we send him a minister of God. The quality of the messenger is an essential aspect of the message.”

  “I am still perplexed regarding your choice of messengers.”

  “Your many outstanding qualities are not the deciding factor”, said Stato. “Nor is Monsignor Stangsby to be blamed for your predicament. It was not our William who, as it were, pushed you forward.”

  “Then how do I come to be sitting here?”

  “You can blame your prior”, said Stato. “He and I are old friends. He has observed you closely for many years. He believes that you have a unique insight into men of power.”

  “Is he aware of the nature of this mission?”

  “He knows only that it is urgent, and that you will carry a message from His Holiness to a politically sensitive recipient.”

  “You were once a man of power”, said Dottrina. “Why did you give it up?”

  “I received a message”, Elijah replied slowly.

  “A message? Like this one?”

  “Different. A world of difference. But it dislodged me from a path that might have led to errors similar to the President’s. I was heading toward a future that contained power, the power to do good for mankind. It was an extraordinarily magnetic thing. It took a total effort of the will to throw it off.”

  “If the objective was good, why did you?”

  “Because I saw that we were doing some of the things that had been done to us by the Hitlerites. There were violations of human rights committed by our own people. I had turned a blind eye to it. I had begun to excuse the inexcusable—in the name of a just cause.”

  The Pope and his two cardinals listened without speaking.

  “The foundation of my thinking was wrong”, said Elijah. “I hated. I hated those who had destroyed my family. I wanted as much power as possible because I thought if I had it, I could rehabilitate the entire universe. How strange that temptation seems to me now. But then it seemed to be the highest good imaginable, saving mankind.”

  “You thought yourself a savior?”

  “Yes. I dread to think what I might have become, if such worldpower had been put into my hands.”

  “But you chose a different path,” said the Pope, “and for that choice I will be eternally grateful. You will be able to discern the interior dynamics of this man in a way that none of us could. You must pray earnestly to the Holy Spirit. Ask Him to give you the words to unlock this man’s heart.”

  “You must pray for me, Holy Father.”

  “I will. Daily. Hourly. Continuously.”

  “When does my mission begin?”

  “In a week’s time, the President will again receive visitors at his estate on the island of Capri. He is presently overseeing the reconstruction of Tiberius’ palace. Preliminary agreement has been reached that an emissary from the Vatican will deliver a papal message to him there on Monday of next week. Today is Tuesday. I would like you to spend several days in preparation at the Franciscan convent at Assisi. A friar who lives there is a friend of mine. He will strengthen you.” The Pope stood.

  “Please give my apostolic blessing to Don Matteo, and tell him that the Pope asks for his prayers.”

  He embraced Elijah. The priest closed his eyes and drank from the strength in the old prelate’s arms. It was a timeless feeling, as if harmony and hope existed at this one quiet station on a whirling planet.

  The Pope traced the sign of the cross on Elijah’s forehead, bid each of them good night, and left.

  “Well,” said Stato, “let us go find William. We have many things to tell him.”

  “How much of this am I free to discuss with him?”

  “You can discuss the general nature of the mission. I have already outlined it to him. He is to accompany you to Capri.”

  Elijah looked at the cardinal thoughtfully.

  “I understand your hesitation”, said Stato. “William is a solid fellow, but his tongue. . . ah, that tongue can be a problem. I have pointed out to him the need for absolute confidentiality.”

  Elijah nodded.

  “He may need reminding”, said Stato.

  * * *

  “Onward to Mordor!” shouted Billy, brandishing an invisible sword.

  “Mordor? We’re going to Capri.”

  “A figure of speech, Davy. Literary reference, English schoolboy stuff.”

  “I see.”

  “You never quite understand my peculiar mental aberrations, do you?”

  “I take it on faith that you know what you’re talking about.”

  “I always know what I’m talking about. It’s the image that confuses the other team, you see?”

  “I’m not sure that I do see.”

  “The Billy the Kid routine. You’d be surprised at how useful it is. When people think one is an ambitious fool, they tend to say all sorts of things in front of you, revealing themselves, where they’re at, and where they’re bound.”

  “So, you are a kind of Vatican spy.”

  Billy snorted. “There ain’t no such critter. But it pays to know your adversary. And I’d say that some of our worst adversaries are pretty close to home.”

  “Is it as serious as some think?”

  Billy sat back on his couch and looked out his apartment window at the dome of light reflecting off the Roman night. He sighed.

  “It only takes one Judas. Only one Judas.” He tilted his glass and emptied it in a gulp.

  “Do you know if there is a Judas active within the Church presently?”

  “Lots of them.”

  “Close to the Holy Father?”

  “I think so. Certainly within the Curia, there are some who’ve never been happy about the papal election. The Pope put the brakes on their interpretation of Vatican II. You’ve got a lot of unhappy people there.”

  “What about the spirit of obedience. . . and humility?”

  “Good question.”

  “Don’t they see it? Can’t they recognize the temptation?”

  “It begins with little things, Davy. Things that look harmless at first. Irritation, grumbling, resentment. Then, gradually, like-minded individuals gravitate toward each other. They reinforce each other’s criticisms, grow bolder, gain confidence. They tell each other that they have interpreted the Council correctly, and the Pontiff’s a throwback, an unfortunate accident, stumbling into the Chair of Peter by a fluke of ecclesial politics. Heady stuff. After a while, they convince themselves that they’re saving the Church, dragging it against its will into the twentieth century, despite the Pope.”

  “Don’t they see the diabolical pride in such an approach?”

  “They are prelates imbued with romanità. They have gradually come to think that the politics of manipulation govern the Church.”

  “Where is the Holy Spirit in all of this?”

  “They think the Holy Spirit works through their politics.”

  “A potent drug.”

  “It makes them accountable to nothing other than their own opinions and agendas.”

  “Do you know who these men are?”

  Billy’s face went expressionless. He looked intensely at Elijah and pointed at the ceiling. He got up and tapped each of the four walls.

  “What are you telling me?”

  “I think I’d rather not continue this discussion at the moment.”

  “What is it? What’s the trouble?”

  “Let’s go for a walk.”

  In the precise center of the park, surrounded by sighing cypresses, Billy said, “There’s pretty good evidence that somebody’s been running electronic surveillanc
e on high-level Vatican staffers. The Prefect discovered a bugging device in his office last month, and a few other offices have been penetrated. I think we’d better assume that my apartment may be subject to listeners. A lot of sensitive information crosses my desk. And as you may have guessed, I haven’t always been discreet in my conversation. I’ve had to watch my tongue more carefully.”

  “Is there a possibility that the Holy Father’s offices have been penetrated?”

  “Security put every papal space through a sweep. We found a bug in his secretary’s desk. But the papal apartment’s clean.”

  “I’m glad of that. Our discussion last evening concerned a subject of highest sensitivity.”

  “He may have asked you to meet him there because it’s the safest place of all. Though, heaven knows, if they eavesdropped on the Holy Father they wouldn’t get much except edification. They’d be asking for baptism within the week.”

  “You spoke of a Judas?”

  “Judases would be more accurate.”

  “Do you know their names?”

  “I’m not sure. I believe the Holy Father knows who they are. But you have to understand him. He’s really a saint, Davy. He accuses no one, he’s charitable to everyone, even those he knows are his strongest opponents in the Curia.”

  “Are the Prefect for Doctrine and the Secretary of State loyal to him?”

  “Absolutely. He hand-picked them both. Stato and Dottrina are two very different personalities. Radically different. But both of them love the Church and both of them love the Holy Father.”

  “A courageous position. Dottrina especially is not a popular man.”

  “You’ve observed that already? It’s true. He’s probably the most unpopular man in the world. They call him the Grand Inquisitor behind his back. The press grossly characterizes him as the Éminence grise, the sinister force behind the throne. But it’s not true. He’s a humble man with nerves of steel. He does the job he’s supposed to do, calling people to task when they teach falsehood in the name of the Church. He’s got his hands full these days. I’ve never seen him blow his cool. He’s amazing. He’s a different kind of saint, maybe a tougher kind than the Pope. I think he accepted early on that he’d be despised by anyone who has an axe to grind against the Faith, and he knew he’d be especially reviled by the media.”