Evolution

by Jim Reilly

  “Good morning,” Monsignor Grazzani said to Isaiah, who was sitting behind the counter.

  He was just finishing with a customer, who grabbed her new earrings and headed out the door. Isaiah acknowledged the monsignor. When the customer left, Isaiah used a towel behind the counter to clean his hands and then made his way over to hug his old friend.

  “Anthony, how are you? I mean, Monsignor. I forget sometimes.”

  With a halfhearted response, he said, “I am OK, Isaiah. I was wondering if we could talk. Do you have time?”

  Knowing that his friend came unannounced and looked like he had something heavy on his mind, he said, “Oh sure, we can walk over to the park. It is a nice day, and we can find a bench to relax on.”

  So the two friends headed out of the store and to the park. During the walk, they asked about each other’s families and talked work just like always. Then they reminisced about playing together on these very same streets as boys. But as they got closer to the park, Isaiah could see that something was troubling his friend.

  Sitting on a bench, Isaiah said bluntly, as he always did, “You look like crap, Anthony. What the heck is wrong with you? Do you have some bad news to tell me? Like you are sick or something?”

  Shaking his head, he said, “No, physically I’m fine. I appreciate the worry. No, I feel that my soul has been injured, and I don’t know what I should do.”

  Isaiah then offered, “Maybe if you get it off your chest, we can talk about it. That is what you always tell me when I am troubled. So, why don’t you take your own advice?”

  After taking a deep breath and looking up to the sky, Monsignor Grazzani explained, “I am having doubts. Not about God. I have doubts about the doings of man. To be exact, I’m having my doubts about the Followers of Divinity movement. I was, like many, very happy the movement brought God back into the forefront. Prior to that, the world began for the first time in history to lean towards the unthinkable, toward a world without God. I thought that that should not happen and joined the movement. Even though the movement had a violent element to it, I thought the ends justified the means because there were episodes in the Bible where God sent His people into battle against the unbelievers. I thought we were fighting for God. Now I am not so sure, and I don’t know what I should do.”

  With that, Monsignor Grazzani pulled out his handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped his forehead.

  Confused, Isaiah asked, “Why the change? I remember how you were a big supporter of the movement. As a matter of fact, you talked me into supporting it. You said that the movement turned the tide in the war against religion and the increase in nonbelievers. The fear was that science would usher in a world without God. They would come up with some formula that would prove God never existed, and the world would go on without Him. The discovery of the spacecraft, you said, clouded people’s minds, and the conjecture of the existence of God by scientists was morally reprehensible. You viewed the scientists as minions of Satan out to do his work to deceive mankind. As a result, you joined the Followers of Divinity movement. As it gained strength, the movement took action so that God would not be irrelevant. The movement had an unprecedented cooperation between the different faiths of the world. Jews, Christians, Muslims, Hindus, and anyone else you can think of formed an alliance to combat the forces of evil. In this case, science is the evil monster they have come to battle. So, what has changed? You don’t feel the same anymore?”

  Monsignor Grazzani, eager to get it off his chest, answered without hesitation, “At first, I was all for it. The speeches and the blogs got my blood boiling. The way they communicated it to me was totally believable and hit the foundation of my soul. It seemed that they had an answer to everything that had been bothering me for so long. It seemed so clear as to the course of action we should take, that we should fight to save man’s soul. They were so believable that I thought the UN exaggerated the acts the Followers of Divinity had done, but now I am not so sure. Over time, I guess, the charismatic speeches by Bishop Terapion and his close followers have started to be less convincing as to their true goal. I get the feeling it’s more about power and control and not about the salvation of man’s soul.”

  Now as Monsignor Grazzani got nearer to what was bothering him, he inched closer to Isaiah so that no one else could hear. “As you know, I can’t divulge what is said in confidence in private or in the confessional booth, but I will tell you the gist of what they are saying.”

  Isaiah asked, “Who are saying?”

  Monsignor Grazzani inched closer, “As you know, the Followers of Divinity have a paramilitary training center north of Naples, and I travel there to administer communion and confessions to the trainees. At first, I thought that it was normal training any country would have their military do to defend their country, but it seemed different. Some of the people came forward to me in private and mentioned to me that they are asked to do unspeakable acts in the name of God. They had a problem with their comfort level with what needed to be done. Things like sanctioned kidnappings, torture, murders, and suicide bombing, all in the name of God. They are told that true believers need to battle these foes with any means possible, or the scientists would turn our people into nonbelievers and our souls would be condemned to hell. They tell them about hideous acts the scientists have done on people and that the spacecraft was made by them to fool man in believing there is no God.

  “They are told that in this army of God that if you do these acts upon the scientists, you will be rewarded in heaven, and if you die during the battle, you would be rewarded above all people and the riches of heaven will be yours. To infuriate the soldiers, they are told that throughout history, scientists have been the demons Satan has sent to destroy man. Everything from plagues, earthquake, and floods has been scientist’s fault. They blame them for the Inquisition, the Holocaust, diseases, and oppression by leaders like Joseph Stalin, Napoleon, and even the Shah of Iran. They are told that all of the world’s pain is because of the scientists and the nonbelievers, so they must be eliminated, all of them. But as unholy as that is, I am hearing even more disturbing information. It seems that the soldiers are not only fighting the enemy from outside, they are fighting the enemy from within as well.”

  Now very intrigued, Isaiah asked, “What do you mean within?”

  Monsignor Grazzani inched closer. “I mean that people are disappearing. At first, I heard it here and there from people in my parish that doubters were brought in by the authorities to be schooled in the faith. From what I’m hearing now, many of those people don’t return. It is not well known, but the Followers of Divinity have a police force that is made up of hard-line religious clergy and lay people who enforce religious doctrine. Rumor has it that they have been picking people up. I know it happens in some hard-line religious countries, but now here? I don’t know, Isaiah. I am getting the feeling that this is not what I signed up for.”

  Isaiah asked, “Are you sure about this? I mean, what you are telling me is something that has happened throughout history. One group gains power and tries to expand that power. It is like a drug addiction that can’t ever be satisfied. They gain power at any cost, and once they have it, they hold it at any cost. Average people are their pawns to be molded into what the power mongers want and need. They don’t settle for battling for more conquests outside. They battle just as fiercely inside to control their people. Dissenters are eliminated and history is changed to make it easier to promote their doctrine.

  “It has been said that those who control the past can control the future. I have to tell you, this sounds much too familiar. In the 1930s, a small group of people led by a charismatic leader fooled the population into thinking they had an answer to their ills. They blamed one group of people for all their problems and began to eliminate them. They believed that the whole world needed their leadership and started to force their ideals on the world. If there were dissenters, then they were brutally put down. Remember Hitler and the Nazis? They built a
massive conquering army and employed a secret police to watch the people. They promised great things, but their sadistic ways became their ends, and in their wake they left destruction and misery.

  “As you know, I was not as taken in as you were by the Followers of Divinity, but I was taken in at any rate. I have to admit they are a charismatic group with all sorts of remedies for our problems, but I always wondered, what is their real motivation for doing this? Sure, the saving of our religions is important, but what do they really want? Power is a funny thing that can change people with even the best motivations. I’m starting to wonder what their intentions are. Maybe we should dig deeper into it to find out.”

  Monsignor Grazzani quickly said, “No, we shouldn’t. I should. It was my concern, and I just came here to air my frustrations. I will ask some questions, and you should not get involved in case there is merit in my doubts. I would feel awful if you were tangled up in this.”

  Isaiah tried to relieve his concerns about him and offer his help. “Listen, I’ll just make some inquiries with some of my friends and let you know what I find. Don’t worry, I will be fine.”

  Then the two friends hugged, and Isaiah went back to his jewelry store, and Monsignor Grazzani walked all the way back to his parish, reflecting on what he needed to do.

  When Monsignor Grazzani got back to the rectory, his virtual message board was flashing on his desk. It was Bishop Sarno with news. “Greetings, Monsignor. I hope you are well. The reason for my reaching out to you is that the leadership of the Followers of Divinity is making its rounds in southern Italy next week. Bishop Terapion will grace your church next Saturday night. Please make the arrangements with his subordinates. I have texted their contact information to you. Please give him your best welcome and…”

  Monsignor Grazzani then turned off the message and prayed. “Oh Lord, when you test me, you really go all out. Then again, maybe this is what I need to trust the movement. Maybe Bishop Terapion will enlighten me so that I return to the path and stop this nonsense of my doubt. Or maybe my fears will be confirmed? Either way, Lord, like they say, you work in mysterious ways.”

  So then Monsignor Grazzani listened to the rest of his messages and contacted Bishop Terapion’s handlers to make the arrangements for the visit. He would do it the way he did everything, thoughtfully.

  Two mornings later, Monsignor Grazzani headed out to the base to administer to the military personnel as usual. Most of the day, he heard confessions that were much the same as he had throughout the time he had been coming here. As he was finishing up the long day, Monsignor Grazzani started to pack his things and just happened to look up. Standing there was a young soldier. She looked like she was fifteen. When he noticed she was nervous and anxious, he quickly called her over.

  Since this was not a church and much of the training was outdoors, Monsignor Grazzani heard confessions near an olive tree alongside a makeshift barracks. He found that inside the buildings on the compound there was not sufficient space for the privacy he needed. So each day, rain or shine, he stood next to this tree and waited for people to come over to see him.

  As the girl walked toward him, he gazed at her and got a feeling that this was not going to be an ordinary confession. He hoped that he could help her because she looked as though she would reveal something that pained her deeply.

  “Hello, child,” he said.

  The girl didn’t speak and just kept looking at the ground. A few moments went by and he tried to get her to talk. “Child, I can see you have something to say, and I am here for you. I will stay here as long as you need me to.”

  After hesitating, she said, “Is it true that what I say here to you cannot be repeated? I mean, that you can’t tell anyone?”

  Without hesitating, the monsignor replied, “That is absolutely true. I’m bound by a vow I took to not divulge what we talk about. What you tell me will not be repeated, I promise.”

  Now with tears coming down her face, she continued. “I joined the fight because I believed that God and everything He stood for was under attack. I swore that I would give my life for the Lord, and I would freely do so. I knew coming here that I might have to do some hard things, or maybe horrific things in battle, to help this world become a world of God’s rule. But now I don’t know. I am confused, and I don’t know what to do. I need guidance.”

  Very concerned, Monsignor Grazzani asked, “Are you being asked to do something that is bothering your conscience? Not to justify it, but in times of war, you are sometimes forced to do what otherwise you might think is against your judgment to do.”

  Cutting him off, she answered, “I understand the things that need to be done in war, and I accepted what I needed to do, but this is different. My unit has not been used in battle, exactly. It has been used as a hit squad. But not against the enemy: it is used against members of our movement. I’m confused. Why would they do that? Most of the people we hit are ordinary folks. What we are told is that they have been spreading lies about God’s movement and are now enemies. One such target, when captured, swore that all he did was doubt our message. He was brought back to be executed without a trial.”

  Monsignor Grazzani asked, “Are you sure? Could you be mistaken? Many things in times of war are done in a confusing manner, and maybe you misread the situation.”

  She answered quickly, “I know what I heard and saw, Father. It happened like I said. But what bothers me the most is our next target. It’s Cardinal Pesta of Turin. He is our next target. Plans have been made to extract him and bring him in.”

  Quickly he responded, “Child, you must be gravely mistaken. Cardinal Pesta is a respected man of the cloth and a member of the movement. This has got to be wrong.”

  Crying even harder she said, “I am not wrong, and what bothers me the most is that he is my uncle on my mother’s side. I know this man. He is gentle and loving. He would give the shirt off his back and wouldn’t mind giving a needy person the last coin he had left. But an order came down saying he is a threat to the movement, and his elimination is vital in our success over the forces of evil. I don’t understand why, and I don’t know what to do. I can’t let this happen, and I want to warn him so he does not get hurt. Can you help me, Father? Can you help him?”

  Gripped by his own doubts, Monsignor Grazzani was apprehensive and hesitant for a moment, but he then remembered that he took an oath to help others, and she needed him. This confession only helped confirm his suspicions, and he knew he must act.

  “I will help you. What is your name?”

  “Claudia. Thank you for helping me,” she said.

  He replied, “Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t helped you yet. First, we need to get you out of here. What we will do is take these two chairs back to my car, and then you get in and get under the robes I have in the back.” From the tree they made their way, and she hopped in as planned.

  Sliding into the driver’s seat, the monsignor warned, “Keep low. We have to get by the checkpoint.”

  At the checkpoint the guard approached his car, “Oh, it is you, Monsignor. Did you have a nice day here?”

  Nervous and afraid, he thought that in the last few years he might have driven too fast from time to time or snuck a cookie from the parish rectory kitchen before dinner. He had never done anything at this level before, though. Today he was smuggling out a soldier from her base with intentions of going AWOL. So he was tense as he said, “It was a wonderful day,” and since he did not know what to do, he just looked forward.

  The guard noticed a difference in the monsignor. “Are you OK, Monsignor Grazzani? You don’t look so good.”

  This perked him up, and as coolly as he could he said, “No, I’m fine. I think I was in the sun too long today. The shade inside my car feels good, and the air conditioning on my face has made me feel better already. I’ll be fine, son. Thank you for your concern.”

  The guard signaled the gate up, and Monsignor Grazzani waved good-bye to the guard and his companions.

&nb
sp; On the road back, he said, “How are you doing back there? It will be about forty-five minutes for my car to navigate us back to the rectory where I can hide you for a while, so keep down so none of the street cameras get an image of you. When we get back to the rectory, you stay in the car until darkness, and I will let you in through the back door.”

  Claudia nervously asked, “Father, could you also help my mother and little brother? If they find out I am missing, they will surely be detained for information. I fear for them.”

  “Sure,” said an unsure Monsignor Grazzani as he wondered how in God’s name he was going to get her to safety, much less her mother and brother. Right now, the enormity of what he was about to do was making him feel his world was about to change.

  Later that night, with Claudia safely hidden in Father Tonelli’s bedroom while he was on holiday in Sicily, he heard a knock on his front door. When he opened it, his heart skipped as one of the officers of the movement’s police force, God’s Healers of the Faith, stood in front of him. He had seen him many times before, but seeing an officer at his door when he had a secret was nerve-racking. Standing there was a man no different from any other, yet he had left a lasting impression on Monsignor Grazzani.

  Once the door was open, the man spoke. “Good evening, Monsignor. I am Salvatore DeRosa. I work for a branch of God’s Military.”