Soon, they arrived at the gate of Fort St. Angelo, at the end of the Birgu peninsula. Birgu was a small town on a peninsula jutting into the Grand Harbour. Because of its strategic placement, there have been fortifications at the end of the Birgu peninsula for centuries. In the fourteenth century, it was known as Castrum Maris. When they took control of the island in 1530, the Knights of Malta renamed it Fort St. Angelo. It became the seat of the Grand Master. They cut a dry ditch between the fort and the Birgu peninsula, and built a fortified gate to protect the installation from land borne attack. After Napoleon’s surprise attack in 1798, the British took over the island in 1800, and occupied it through World War II. Both the fort and the island suffered significant damage in the war, but they rebuilt. Malta gained independence from the United Kingdom in 1964, they formed as a republic in 1974.
In 1998, the Republic of Malta signed an agreement with the Sovereign Military Order of Malta, granting them exclusive use of Fort St. Angelo, with limited extraterritoriality, for 99 years. Since then, the order had been modernizing the facility, updating it from a military installation to one more suited to the knight’s modern mission.
As the gates opened, that mission became apparent to the Vatican delegation. Gone was any remnant of an ancient military order. This was a modern facility, more palatial than martial. The cars pulled into the courtyard, paved with the Maltese Cross.
Clark was there waiting for them. He stood with several attendants, and stepped up to open the rear passenger door of the lead car himself. “Your Eminence, welcome!” He helped the cardinal out of the car as the other delegates gathered in the courtyard. Clark ushered them into an ornate lobby. Gold marble columns held up a coffered ceiling done in Arabesque red and green painted wood. Wide custom rugs lay on the polished slate floor, with clusters of tables and chairs scattered among oversized potted date palms.
Molino felt the crisp air as he entered the lobby. It smelled of fresh flowers. It looked as if they were preparing for a reception. Clark reminded the delegation of the agreed program: There would be a casual dinner for all three delegations that evening, and in the morning, they would have their opening session. If an afternoon session was required, there would be one after a lunch break. At the end of the first day, the parties would confer and agree if a second day was required.
“As you can see,” said Clark, “we are also hosting a wedding. The daughter of one of our members is to be wed tomorrow. She is from Istanbul, he is from Salamanca. If need be, you can say you were here as wedding guests.”
The delegates’ dinner was lavish for what was billed as a casual affair. The guests were in suits and clerical attire, both Eastern and Western. It was held in a Moorish-themed dining room, with horseshoe arches on double columns, Berber rugs, and filigree lanterns over the tables. Seating was arranged, but the delegates mingled before the meal. As they were served, Clark addressed the men with a brief but warm speech about the history of the island, which included Jews, Christians, and Muslims, the historic opportunity that this council presented, and the order’s gratitude for all involved. He spoke kindly and sometimes humorously about each attendee, and closed the meal with a traditional prayer attributed to Jean Parisot de Valette, the Grand Master of the order who fought off the Ottoman onslaught in 1565. After, they retired to a club room for Ouzo and cigars.
By ten at night, the delegates had returned to their rooms. Tomorrow would be a long day. Phillips and Cullinane met Molino in his room to share what they learned during the day. The room was a suite, with a balcony overlooking Grand Harbour. They sat in the small living room.
“Fascinating,” said Cullinane. “Simply fascinating.”
“Indeed,” said Phillips, “I had no idea they have attempted this before.”
“I picked up something about that,” said Molino, “it was back in the fifties?”
“Yes,” said Cullinane. “It seems that after the Gospel of James was discovered, the Eastern Orthodox church contacted Pope Pius XII, who if you recall was the papal nuncio to Germany until 1929. After the war broke out, as the Cardinal Secretary of State, he concluded the Reichskonkordat, a treaty between the Holy See and Nazi Germany.”
“There you go again,” accused Phillips. “It was a treaty that actually protected the church.”
“It was a Faustian trade,” said Cullinane. “In return for protection, the Catholics backed the 1933 Enabling Act, which gave Hitler dictatorial power.”
“In either case,” Phillips continued, “Hearing about the Gospel of James, Pius and Athenagoras I, then the Patriarch of Constantiople, agreed to suppress the books. Word of the books leaked to the Knights of Malta, who after the war argued that, given the devastation in Europe, it was time to heal the East-West Schism. Like now, the order then used the Gospel of James as leverage to bring the two churches together.”
“It wasn’t clear to me exactly what happened last time,” said Molino.
“They met on Via Condotti in 1957,” said Cullinane. The Knights and emissaries for the pope and the patriarch. The churches rejected reunification, but in return, the order exacted a commitment that the church would implement reforms...”
“...Which later became Vatican II,” said Phillips.
“Which since,” said Cullinane, “conservatives in the church have been trying to undo.” Phillips scoffed. Cullinane continued, “One year after the meeting on Via Condotti, Pius was dead. The death certificate said he died at the papal summer residence of a sudden myocardial infarction, but his doctor insisted that his heart was healthy. They called it exhaustion. One of the delegates from Istanbul intimated that the order had him killed because he recanted on his agreement on Via Condotti. His embalming was so poorly done that they had to terminate his public viewing early. The Swiss Guards stationed around his body were becoming ill.”
“More conspiratorial nonsense,” said Phillips.
“Maybe,” said Cullinane, “but after Pius died, the cardinals elected Pope Saint John XXIII, a liberal, who actually called the Second Vatican Council. John died of cancer before the council ended, but the result was renewed ecumenicism, increased participation for the laity in church affairs, and celebration of the mass in the local vernacular. Father Ratzinger was present at the opening session as a theological consultant.”
“Whether or not Pope Pius’ death was a conspiracy,” said Molino, “the order was able to plant its man Paolo Gabriele in Benedict’s papal household. It is becoming clear to me that the order is not afraid to assert itself.” Both Cullinane and Phillips nodded in agreement.
Eleven
To call it a conference room would be like calling the Ferrari 599XX an automobile. The room was round, although the walls seemed mysteriously absent. At the center was a table, on a stone pedestal, of polished hardwood with ivory and gold inlay in the form of the iota chi symbol.
The table and the three lead chairs were lit from above. Lower lights illuminated the delegates’ chairs, which sat behind small desks. There was no visible source of lighting. The carpet was a deep red and the ceiling had an iridescent glow.
An attendant rang a bell in the wood-paneled corridor surrounding the room, where the delegations were waiting to enter. They entered from three separate doors, equally spaced in the room at 120 degrees from one another. As the Vatican delegation entered, Molino could hear Cardinal Herranz whisper to one of his aides, “It is done, we have Wittelsbach.”
Cardinal Herranz, Metropolitan Theodosius, and C. Bennett Clark took their seats at the table. They had high backed leather swivel chairs. The other delegates sat in rows behind the lead chair, one row of three, and the row behind of four. They had low backed chairs placed behind small desks.
As Molino sat, it felt as if his chair had never been used. Looking around, it occurred to him that the room was constructed for the sole purpose of this meeting. He looked at Phillips and asked, “What’s that three-arm cross on the table?”
“It’s the iota chi,” said Phillips. �
��It is a monogram for Jesus Christ. It is the superimposition of iota, the first Greek letter in the name Jesus, which looks to us like a capital I, and chi, the first letter of the word Christ, which looks like an X. The iota chi symbol was among the earliest symbols used by Christians in Palestine.”
Cullinane added, “It has a numerological significance, if you believe in that sort of thing. Ireneaus tells us that the early church fathers calculated the gematric values of the letters used to spell iota and chi to equal 888, a number supposedly known at the time to represent Jesus.”
“Which is nonsense,” said Phillips.
“Maybe, but here we have three delegations, eight men each,” said Cullinane. “It may be nonsense, but someone has put a lot of thought into this meeting.”
As everyone settled in and laptops lit up, Clark tapped a small stack of papers on the table in front of him. When the sound of papers shuffling and keys tapping reached its ebb, Clark cleared his throat, “Let us begin with a prayer.” With that, a member from the Vatican delegation and another from Istanbul rose, met in the aisle between the two delegations, raised their hands, and in turns, recited lines of an ancient ecumenical prayer, dating back to the Council of Chalcedon, recognized by many as the last ecumenical council. Once the prayer was finished, the priests returned to their seats.
“Your Eminence Herranz,” said Clark, “Your Eminence Theodosius, thank you both for joining us.” The cardinal and the metropolitan nodded politely.
Clark began. “This evening, two young people will join in marriage out on the D'Homedes bastion overlooking Grand Harbour. It is fitting cover for this secret council, and you have our sacred oath that it will remain secret. On our honor, each member of the order pledges to you that, whatever the outcome of this council, the outside world will not hear of it from anyone affiliated with the Knights of Malta.”
“We are here because, fifty years ago, for the good of the church, our predecessors committed to reforms. Some of those reforms were implemented, some were not. Some of the changes have actually been rolled back. I can report to you today that, in the last few months, the order has studied our progress over the last half century, and to be blunt, we find it lacking. We can do better.”
The metropolitan and the cardinal sat stiffly mute.
“We all know the current state of affairs for both of your congregations, but if you would indulge me for a minute, allow me to summarize the findings in our report. For Rome, the financial crisis has seriously undermined the value of your real estate portfolio. For the last half century, as revenue goes, the only net donor is the church in America, and even there, tithes are falling and tuition revenues are down as a result of demographics and increased competition with state schools. Each year, you are losing more clergy than you add. Mass attendance has dropped from fifty five percent to twenty five percent. You are closing parishes at the rate of one a week. And on top of all that are these child abuse settlements. You’ve been in a negative cash situation for ten years. The only good news is that, with population growth, you are holding steady at seventeen or eighteen percent of the world population, but the bad news is almost all the growth is in third world countries, all net donees. In short, your growth is killing you. Even with the planned real estate liquidation, it is our studied conclusion, Your Eminence, that in less than fifty years’ time you will be financially insolvent.”
Clark then looked at Metropolitan Theodosius. “If it was possible, the condition in Constantinople and associated bishoprics is worse. You have all of the financial problems that they are experiencing in Rome, and in addition to their demographic problems, your church is in a losing political and demographic battle with Islam. Since we last met, the Turkish government has usurped any political power you once had. You now are a client of the Turkish government, and every indication is they intend to do you in. They themselves are in a long term battle with radical Islam, and you will soon be a casualty of that struggle. Your Eminence, with all due respect, yours is an existential crisis. If nothing changes, we give the Patriarchy in Constantinople ten years.”
There were rising murmurs among all three delegations.
“The good news is that everyone in this room is approaching these problems with a fresh set of eyes. Fifty years ago, our predecessors applied their wisdom and their experience, and it netted some gains, albeit modest ones. We now have the opportunity to take up their standard, and renew the struggle for the good of the church. I, for one, have handled a dozen transactions much larger than this, and let us not be mistaken – this is a merger, just like any other two corporations. While the clergy are rightly more concerned with the ‘product’ – the theology, we in the order are concerned with the corporate health of the institution. Constantine was able to resolve the Arian controversy in Nicea, I am sure that we can find a solution to the filioque clause. The real question is: are you willing to embark on this enterprise with us?”
There was a pregnant silence. No one volunteered to answer his question. Deciding to leave the question a rhetorical one, Clark continued. “The plan that we have outlined would assure the health of the church for at least the next one hundred years, and has contingencies for future dealings with the other Abrahamic faiths. We could actually improve our cash position in five, maybe ten years, and experience net growth in the next century, but we have to work together.”
“Let’s start with the obvious: the church in Istanbul is on its last legs. In short, we propose that the eastern church merge into the western church. Pope Benedict and the Patriarch of Constantinople will announce an ecumenical council where the details of the following points will be worked out. But, and this is vital, the outcomes must be agreed in advance.”
“First, the filioque clause will be deleted from all creeds. If anyone in this room is even remotely familiar with James, there should be no discussion on that point.”
“Two, the Code of Canon Law will be revised to create the office of the Pontifex Maximus as the head of the college of bishops. The Bishop of Rome will lose all extraterritorial jurisdiction. The Patriarch of Constantinople will be elevated to Pontifex Maximus, will relocate to the Vatican, and with the Bishop of Rome, will oversee the administrative aspects of the ecumenical reunion such as diocesan mergers and ecclesiastical reassignments. Theodosius, you will be elevated to the Patriarch of Constantinople, the Eastern Orthodox Patriarchs will be the equivalent of bishops in the new church. It will be called the Catholic Church.”
“Third, the College of Cardinals will be disbanded, the existing cardinals will serve honorary positions as advisors emeritus to the bishops, religious orders, universities, and the like. The church will appoint no further cardinals. When the last cardinal dies the office will be scrapped. If Benedict survives Bartholomew, he will succeed Bartholomew as Pontifex Maximus. Thereafter, Pontifex Maximus, also known as the pope, will be elected by a majority vote of diocesan bishops.”
The room was still as the delegates took in the breadth of the changes. Sensing this, Clark sought to ameliorate the knight’s proposal. “These changes are merely structural. They will affect the ecclesiastical hierarchy, but the line Catholic’s daily experience with the faith will be very much the same. In fact, as congregations merge, they will find new energy and new ideas. It will be a beginning of a new flowering of the faith. Once this merger is accomplished, we will turn to the protestant churches and will bring back as many of those as we can, starting with the Church of England and the Episcopalians. Imagine the symbolism, after a thousand years, a human institution has healed its ancient wounds. If we can do this, why can’t the Israelis and the Palestinians heal their divisions? The possibilities are limitless. There can be no question, this is for the good of the church and for the good of mankind.”
The silence descended upon the room like a black cloth. Clark looked at Theodosius and Herranz for a reaction.
After a pregnant moment, Theodosius spoke: “The Eastern Church will support this effort with one very imp
ortant qualification. As you know, we lack the central authority that Rome enjoys. Each of our sees is self governing. In advance of this council, we conducted an informal poll of our sees, and received generally favorable reactions. The negative reactions came mostly from the sees in the former Soviet bloc. If we are to go forward with this merger, we would first need to convene a great council of all the churches, and submit it to them for their approval. That said, I can tell you now, at that great council, the Patriarch of Constantinople will support the merger, and recommend that his colleagues do the same.”
“And how many sees do you think will come along?” asked Clark.
“Probably seventy, seventy-five percent,” said Theodosius.
“That’s pretty good. We were thinking anything over fifty percent would be enough to give it a green light,” said Clark.
“That’s what we were thinking too,” said Theodosius.
With that, both Clark and Theodosius looked at Harranz. The cardinal’s face was grave. “We too did a study in preparation for this council. Here’s what we found. First, our congregation is aging. This means they are less disposed to change. Our data shows that the merger would tend to drive them to protestant churches. Second, we are aware of the long term financial problems faced by both the eastern and the western churches. If anything, the proposed merger would make the situation worse. Yes, we are consolidating real estate holdings and selling off excess, but that is a short term gain. Our mission is to bring the brand back. We have to appeal to the young. This merger would do nothing to promote that goal. Our numbers polled in the low twenties. If anything, we should be considering divestiture, not merger. Some among us have been considering splitting into continental churches, that way some of the net donee churches, like those in Africa and South America, would be forced to become self-sufficient.”
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