The Parchment

by McLaughlin, Gerald T.

  Benedict smiled at the camerlengo. “You forgot my most important title, Agostino — Servant of the Servants of God.”

  The pontiff picked up a gold pen that Cardinal Marini had lain next to the red leather binder. Sister Consuela looked away. This was the moment she had dreaded.

  “Consuela, please don't be upset. This must be done for the good of the Church.” Sister Consuela sobbed aloud. The Holy Father had never called her simply “Consuela” in all the years she had worked for him.

  The pope slowly traced his name at the bottom of the abdication document. “I do this of my own free will and volition.”

  Cardinal Barbo witnessed Benedict's signature as required by canon law.

  Benedict struggled out of his chair and kneeled before Barbo. “Francesco, I ask for your blessing.”

  Struggling to hold back his tears, the secretary of state blessed his old friend.

  “Thank you, Francesco. I'm tired. Sister, sit me up in bed so I can read my breviary.”

  As cardinals Marini and Barbo prepared to leave the room, the pope fumbled for something in the pocket of his cassock.

  “Sister Consuela, give this to Cardinal Marini.”

  It was the Ring of the Fisherman.

  At 10:30 in the morning, approximately forty members of the Sacred College of Cardinals gathered in the conference room of the Apostolic Palace. As Barbo had expected, the reason for the meeting was assumed to be the Middle East. Several cardinals had even phoned the secretary of state the night before to ask whether there had been new incidents in the area. Even the Italian media gave the meeting only cursory attention. Rome's morning newspaper, II Messaggero, for example, made no mention of the meeting but did run a small story on how Archbishop Finnergan's conduct had compromised the Vatican's perceived neutrality.

  A murmur passed through the assembly when cardinals Marini and Barbo entered the room. The pope was not with them. Since his election, Benedict had made it a point to attend all meetings of the Sacred College. If anything, however, it was Cardinal Marini's appearance that unnerved many in the room. Despite his customary aversion to ecclesiastical dress, the camerlengo wore his scarlet zucchetto and sash.

  Marini walked slowly to the podium and leaned on it as if to steady himself. “I have sad news, my Brothers in Christ. At 8:30 this morning, the Holy Father signed formal documents of abdication. An announcement of his abdication will be made over Vatican Radio at noon.

  The room sat in stunned silence. His face ashen, Cardinal Vaggio, the Archbishop of Florence, finally struggled to his feet. “Marini, what happened to the Holy Father? Why did he do this?”

  Barbo stepped to the podium. “I should answer that, Agostino. The pope has developed Alzheimer's disease. He began to show the first signs a year ago. Doctor Roger Hendricks from the Mayo Clinic, a pioneer in Alzheimer's research, came to Rome to treat the Holy Father. Unfortunately His Holiness did not respond to medication. Inexplicably the pope's condition has worsened dramatically in the past few weeks. Doctor Hendricks and the other specialists he consulted believe His Holiness is no longer competent to govern the Church. The Holy Father himself made the decision to abdicate.”

  “Francesco, there must be new treatments.” Cardinal Viaggio's voice still echoed with disbelief.

  “There are but the pope does not respond to them. I have asked Doctor Hendricks to address this meeting at noon. He will answer any medical questions you may have with respect to the Holy Father's condition.”

  “How can a pope abdicate?” Cardinal Cornelius Reysin, Archbishop of Houston, Texas, jumped angrily to his feet. “This is absurd! An abdication cannot divest the pope of his spiritual authority. There is no term of office for a pope. He can neither be voted out of office nor resign from office. Benedict's abdication is invalid as a matter of ecclesiastical law. In my view, Benedict is still the Holy Father.”

  Although Barbo was reluctant to be drawn into a prolonged debate with a cardinal best known for his harmonica playing, his temper, and his long-windedness, he felt he had to respond.

  “A pope does have a term, Cardinal Reysin. The term, however, is indeterminate—it lasts only as long as the pope can function in the office. Pope Benedict realized that he could no longer perform his responsibilities. He made the courageous decision to abdicate.”

  Cardinal Calvaux asked to be recognized. “Cardinal Reysin, the secretary of state is correct in his reading of canon law. There have been papal abdications in the past. This is not the time to challenge Pope Benedict's decision. Instead we must rally in support of the camerlengo.”

  Reysin glared at Calvaux. “Your fancy French theologians are wrong, Calvaux. I do not accept the legitimacy of what has been done.” Reysin angrily left the room.

  Cardinal Agostino took the podium.

  “His Eminence Cardinal Reysin can express his views as forcefully as he wishes. He may be able to walk out of this meeting, but I do not have that freedom. The Church must endure. There are no procedures to guide us when a pope abdicates. Unless Your Eminences object, I plan to follow the procedures applied when a pope dies—with whatever modifications may be required.

  Cardinal Muñoz, the Archbishop of Quito, Ecuador, slowly lifted his heavy frame from his chair. As a prominent member of the conservative wing of the Sacred College, Muñoz was a respected and powerful figure in the Church. Barbo knew that, if Muñoz were to attack the legality of the abdication, it would create a serious fissure in the Church.

  “I think I speak for all of us, Agostino. Do what you must. We sail on uncharted waters.” There was a murmur of assent from the cardinals in the room.

  “Thank you, Cardinal Muñoz.”

  Marini looked at his watch. “Before I leave to make the announcement on Vatican Radio, there is one matter of business that must be attended to. When there is a Sede Vacante, the rules require all cardinals in Rome to meet in General Congregation on a daily basis. The first session of the General Congregation has been scheduled at nine o'clock tomorrow morning in the Apostolic Palace. I need not remind Your Eminences of how important these meetings are. They are an integral part of the process of electing a pope.”

  Everyone in the room knew what Marini meant. The meetings provided an opportunity for the cardinals to begin assessing the strengths and weaknesses of potential candidates to succeed Pope Benedict. Vatican experts often quipped that, during the meetings of the General Congregation, more work was done around the coffee bar than inside the meeting room.

  Cardinal Muñoz asked the question on everyone's mind. “When will the conclave begin, My Lord Camerlengo?”

  “Given the extraordinary circumstances of Benedict's abdication, I have decided to convene the conclave in twenty days — the maximum time permitted by canon law.”

  Cardinals Marini and Barbo arrived unannounced at the offices of the Vatican Radio at 11:45 A.M. The visit of the two cardinals produced a flurry of activity. Espresso and dolci materialized from nowhere. The director of the radio station, a young Canadian Jesuit named John Peters, sprinted out of his office to greet his distinguished guests.

  “Your Eminences, if I had known you were coming.”

  “Father Peters, we must speak to you about a matter of great importance.”

  “Of course, come with me.” Peters escorted the two prelates down the hallway to his office and closed the door.

  Cardinal Marini spoke first. “Pope Benedict abdicated at eight-thirty this morning. Vatican Radio's scheduled broadcasting will have to be interrupted. I will make the formal announcement.”

  For a moment, Father Peters stood stock still, as if he did not understand what Cardinal Marini had just told him. Then his training as a reporter clicked in. “The ‘Angelus’ is broadcast at noon. After that, there's fifteen minutes of international news. We will cut into the broadcast before we start the news. Cardinal Marini, do you wish the announcement televised?”

  Marini looked at Barbo. Shaking his head Barbo answered the question. “No. Pope
Benedict would not want that.”

  Cardinal Marini sat in front of the microphone waiting for the signal to begin speaking.

  At the conclusion of the “Angelus,” Father Peters interrupted the radio broadcast. “Cardinal Agostino Marini — the camerlengo of the Church — has an important announcement regarding the Holy Father, Pope Benedict.”

  “At eight-thirty this morning, His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI abdicated his position as Supreme Pontiff of the Holy Roman Catholic Church. His abdication was the result of advanced Alzheimer's disease. Pope Benedict made the decision to abdicate after his doctors informed him that they could not slow his deteriorating condition. Pope Benedict's eighteen-year pontificate was a blessing not only to his Church but also to the world as a whole. As camerlengo, I have the responsibility of overseeing the affairs of the Church during this interregnum period and for organizing the conclave to choose his successor. Tomorrow morning that process will begin. May God bless Pope Benedict and the Catholic Church.”

  When the announcement was made, those in the broadcast studio seemed unable to move. A young woman slowly began to cry. Fighting back her tears, she spoke to Cardinal Agostino.

  “Could you lead us in prayer, Your Eminence? The Holy Father spoke to me once. He was walking up the center aisle in St. Peter's. When he recognized that I worked in the Vatican, he stopped and asked after my family. He is a kind and holy man.” Marini took the woman's hand and recited the Lord's Prayer.

  The buttons on Father Alessandri's phone were flashing wildly as Barbo entered his office.

  “Eminence, it's been this way since noon, when Marini made the announcement. Even the White House called.”

  Barbo's cell phone rang. It was the Italian Prime Minister calling from Turin.

  “Francesco, I apologize for calling you on your private number but all lines into the secretariat are tied up. My secretary has tried to get through for two hours and all she gets is a busy signal.” Barbo could hear the Italian Prime Minister was struggling with his emotions.

  “All our embassies are calling for instructions.”

  “I had no idea this was happening to the Holy Father. How can I help him?”

  “The pope needs a few days of bed rest. Tonight he will be taken to Castel Gondolfo.”

  The prime minister saw a way to help. “I will send an ambulance to take him.”

  “Thank you for your generosity, but I think the Holy Father would be more comfortable in a Vatican car, Mr. Prime Minister.”

  “Let me at least send a police escort.”

  “That would be helpful.” Barbo knew that it would be impolitic to refuse all assistance from the Italian government.

  “And what of the conclave, Cardinal Barbo? I have heard your name mentioned as a possible successor to Pope Benedict.”

  “Vatican watchers always make the secretary of state a candidate— Rampolla, Gasparri, Pacelli. It happens by dint of office, whether the person is qualified or not.”

  The prime minister laughed. “But Pacelli became Pius XII.”

  “Pacelli was a man blessed with innumerable talents. Rest assured, Mr. Prime Minister, the Holy Spirit will not land on me.”

  A black Mercedes waited at the rear entrance to the Apostolic Palace. Two unmarked police cars stood idling nearby. When Pope Benedict emerged from the doorway, a police lieutenant knelt and kissed the Holy Father on the hands.

  “The Ring of the Fisherman is gone, Lieutenant.”

  “Holy Father, in my eyes, you will always be God's Vicar here on earth.”

  Cardinal Barbo walked around the car to where the officer stood. “Lieutenant, please — Pope Benedict is tired.”

  “I'm sorry. The Holy Father has been my bishop for so long.”

  “I understand, but it's getting late. We've got to go.”

  Barbo motioned the driver and Sister Consuela to get into the front seats of the Mercedes. He sat next to Benedict in the back. Barbo pushed open the sliding glass panel separating the front and back seats of the car.

  “It's time to start, Marco.”

  “Yes, Your Eminence.”

  One of the police cars led the way out through the Vatican gate. The second police car followed behind the Mercedes. As the cars crossed the Tiber and headed north out of the city, Cardinal Barbo heard the sound of a helicopter. He smiled to himself. The prime minister must be making sure Pope Benedict leaves Rome safely.

  As the pope's car reached the turnoff for the autostrada, Barbo looked at his watch. It was already 9:00 P.M.

  “Marco, take the autostrada. At this time of night we should reach Castel Gondolfo in less than two hours.”

  As Barbo sat back in his seat, he heard a soft voice next to him.

  “Yes, Francesco, at this time, the autostrada is best.”

  “Your Holiness, I didn't know you were awake.”

  “Although it was for the good of the Church, my abdication creates problems for my successor.”

  “What problems, Your Holiness?”

  “You saw the police officer in Rome. In his eyes, I will always be the Vicar of Christ.”

  “Don't worry about this.”

  “But I do. Wherever I go to live, there will be tourists and curiosity seekers who'll want my blessing or want to receive the Eucharist from my hands. I won't let that happen.”

  “The curiosity will be over in a few months.”

  The pope leaned his head back on his seat and closed his eyes. Barbo could see that the conversation had tired him.

  “Francesco, I know where I want to live out the rest of my life.”

  “Where, Holy Father?”

  The pope closed his eyes.

  “Not yet, Francesco.”

  CHAPTER XIX

  THE GENERAL CNGREGATIN

  BISHOP PELLENT through the diary and marked several entries with bookmarks. He rang for his secretary.

  “Send this to Cardinal Barbo in Rome by air courier.”

  “Your Eminences, please be seated.” The camerlengo rapped his gavel on the podium. “We have much to do.” Cardinal Reysin sat glumly in the back of the conference room, his anger cooled but not eliminated by a night's sleep.

  The camerlengo took Pope Benedict's ring, the symbol of papal authority, and scratched it with a sharp metal tool. He did the same with Benedict's lead seal. When both the ring and the seal had been defaced, he threw them into a brazier of hot coals. The camerlengo would usually perform this ritual defacement with only a select number of cardinals in attendance. Given the circumstances, however, Marini decided to carry out the ritual in full view of the General Congregation. The camerlengo hoped the defacement would bring closure to the cardinals who were still stunned by Benedict's abdication.

  Two ceremonial matters still remained to be done. The camerlengo formally requested Cardinal Bargarian, the Dean of the Sacred College, to send copies of the abdication documents to the members of the diplomatic corps accredited to the Holy See and to all heads of state. Marini then asked Cardinal Desion, as prefect for bishops, to notify the other members of the Sacred College in dioceses throughout the world to come to the Vatican for the upcoming conclave.

  Once these ceremonial matters had been concluded, Cardinal Marini called for a discussion of the first issue on the agenda—the use of technology in the conclave. Cardinal Reysin was the first to be recognized on the issue.

  “Many in this room head archdioceses. During the conclave, matters may arise that our auxiliary bishops cannot handle. If there's an emergency, there should be a way for them to contact us. A cell phone or a laptop is the most efficient method of communication. I ask that the restriction on bringing them into the conclave be lifted.”

  Barbo knew what was driving Cardinal Reysin's request. It was not solicitude for his auxiliary bishops but fear for himself. In recent weeks, rumors had circulated that Reysin might be indicted for destroying documents in several ongoing criminal investigations dealing with clerical pedophilia. There were also rumors that l
arge financial settlements might force his archdiocese of Houston to consider filing for bankruptcy. A cell phone or a laptop would allow Reysin to monitor developments.

  When Cardinal Reysin sat down, the Primate of Mexico, Cardinal Miguel Chavez, rose from his seat. Although a member of Opus Dei and an archconservative politically and theologically, the congenial Chavez was a popular and influential figure in the Church hierarchy. He had been educated in Rome and had filled several curial posts before being chosen Archbishop of Mexico City and Primate of Mexico.

  “His Eminence Cardinal Reysin was not present at the last conclave. If he had been, he might be less enthusiastic about technology. When that conclave was over, the Swiss Guards found listening devices hidden in almost every room and chapel in the conclave area. They even discovered a small device in one of the candlesticks in the Sistine Chapel. Luckily, it had malfunctioned. It seems the Russians wanted detailed information about each step of the process. The camerlengo has assured me that Vatican security will sweep the conclave rooms twice a day. But this will only uncover listening devices hidden inside the conclave. If we bring computers or cell phones into the conclave and send messages to our offices or staff, they can be listened to by monitors set up outside the conclave. The Swiss Guards cannot discover them so easily.”

  When Chavez had finished, Cardinal Vaggio, the Archbishop of Florence, asked to be recognized. “Cardinal Reysin comes from a rich and powerful country. I can understand his fascination with technology. Who would deny its usefulness? But there are limits. We turn off our cell phones during dinner with our family and friends. Why? Because dinner is a time to reflect and listen to others. It is the same with a conclave. It is a time to put aside the distractions of daily life and listen to one another and to the Holy Spirit. An old nun from Sicily once told me ‘Eminence, the Holy Spirit doesn't fly in a thunderstorm.’ What a wise woman! Given this, no elector except Cardinal Lawrence, the Major Penitentiary of the Church, should be permitted to communicate with anyone outside the conclave. We make an exception for the Major Penitentiary because he oversees papal dispensations. God's mercy cannot be interrupted even for a conclave. Who else among us could claim such a privilege?”