Koesler grimaced. “No. Of course, I’ve come to terms with responsibility. I wasn’t even the initiator in that process. And I did everything I could. I was young and inexperienced. But I checked all along the way with older priests. Everybody I talked to was practiced in the Privilege of the Faith cases-including my Canon Law professor.
“I know in my conscience that I’m not responsible in any way for what happened. And yet … from time to time I can still see Frank Morris. A good man. A better husband than many comfortable Catholics I’ve known. Even now, I can hardly think of him as a suicide.”
“Do you think you could have provided Christian burial if his widow had wanted it?”
Koesler thought for a few moments. “I don’t know. I’ll never know. Even back then, when the Church was comparatively strict about granting Christian burial, it might have been possible.
“I can recall one incident involving an Italian family. The family was extremely faithful-pillars of the Church. Uncle Louie died. One of those cases where Uncle Louie had said bye-bye to the Church after confirmation … when he was just a kid.
“Mostly for the sake of that faithful family and their desire to bury Louie from the Church, we tried like crazy to find some evidence that Louie might have-even mistakenly-could have wandered into a church at some recent time.
“Finally, the family turned up somebody who remembered Louie tipping his hat as he walked past a Catholic church. The witness wasn’t positive that it had been a conscious, voluntary act of devotion on Louie’s part. But, in the end, it was-mercifully-judged sufficient: Louie was buried from the Church. They even wound rosary beads in his hands.” He smiled. “I’ll bet that felt strange to Louie.”
They both chuckled. Father Tully had never had that much trouble burying anyone. There’d never been any hostile forces or big brothers peering over his shoulder.
“But”-Koesler grew serious again-”there was that suicide note. It was well thought out and carefully written.” Again he reflected for a moment. “I would have tried … but I wouldn’t have expected much success.”
“You think you’d have that much trouble now?” Tully asked.
“That law is on the books. And the note would be hard to deal with. And there surely would be some ‘keepers of the faith’ who would cause a lot of trouble if they got wind of what I was doing.”
Tully shook his head. “It all started with a canonical problem with a marriage. I was going to suggest that you might have gone the route of a ‘pastoral solution.’ But there couldn’t have been many-if any-priests who knew about that relatively painless procedure in those days.”
“You mean,” Koesler clarified, “when confronted with an impossible marriage case, you let the couple’s conscience settle the matter …
“Well, for one, as you say, the time had not yet come for that solution … though, in recent years, I have used it quite a few times. It’s a simple enough concept. Ask a Catholic couple, who’ve been forced by Church law into a civil wedding, if they honestly before God consider themselves to be truly married … or a little married … or not married at all.
“It’s a loaded question. Of course, nine times out of ten, they consider themselves married. But they also feel that the Church is uncomfortable at their arrangement. So, the priest makes them feel at ease with their conscience and prepares them and advises them to live sacramental lives.”
“Actually,” Tully observed, “when we were growing up Catholic, we were told we had an obligation to form a correct conscience-and then to follow it.”
“Yes. And it’s perfectly possible that in forming that conscience, still it may disagree with Church law-in which case a person must be extra cautious about the matter.
“But if, after due deliberation, the disagreement continues, conscience must be supreme.
“I love the story about the First Vatican Council, when the bishops were rather bulldozed into passing part of the doctrine on infallibility. In England, a Catholic college faculty was gathered for drinks before dinner. And Cardinal John Henry Newman raised his glass in a toast. ‘Gentlemen,’ he said, ‘I drink to infallibility-but first, I drink to conscience.’”
“Ah, yes …” Tully smiled. “You gotta watch those converts like Newman. They have subtle ways of correcting things.
“But,” he said, “getting back to Frank and Martha: I must say I’m surprised that the tribunal would not accept them into full participation even if they were willing to continue living as brother and sister. That would seem to settle the matter for Church law-even if it constituted a nightmare for the couple.”
Koesler sighed. “It’s weird. I’ve even known of a tribunal priest who ordered a couple’s parish priest to make sure the two were living up to their promise of a brother-sister relationship.”
Tully snorted. “Sort of gives a new meaning to ‘peeping Tom.’
“I take it,” he added, “from the way you told the story, you think these two did keep their promise for the entire two and a half years their case was pending.”
“No question,” Koesler responded firmly. “Their word was their honor. I believe they lived a monastic life. I believe they did without things they needed so they could pay court costs.
“But”-Koesler shook his head-“even after all these years, I have never gotten over Vinnie’s reaction to his uncle’s death. Of course, he’d already been told by the seminary rector what had happened …”
“And the rector told Delvecchio in just about the manner you anticipated he would?”
Koesler nodded. “It wasn’t that the rector didn’t have emotions, or that he didn’t express them. He could-and did-laugh when something actually funny happened. He could be depressed. And, God knows, he could get angry. He had a special knack when he announced some sort of atrocity one of the students had perpetrated. There he was, sitting up there on a podium in front of us. And he would whip off his glasses and throw them spinning on the desk. The knack was that the glasses would stop moving and spinning just at the edge of the desk. One tossing error and the glasses would be broken on the floor.” He chuckled. “That’s brinkmanship.”
“Marvelous. Do you remember any of the so-called atrocities?”
“One that comes to mind,” Koesler responded instantly, “was a white pillowcase that had been turned into a pinto-like black and white. Seems one of our number had been using it to polish his black shoes. That sent the old man into paroxysms.
“Any number of things could get him started. But one thing you can say for him: He never made up any abuses out of whole cloth; ours were actual atrocities.
“He could be very gentle one-on-one. But there was no doubt he was looking to turn out men. Men who could take any blow, face any adversity and forge ahead. I was sure that’s what he’d be looking for when he told Vince about his uncle.
“To be very honest, I didn’t think Vinnie would do very well with that test.”
“How so?”
“A close family member-it had to be one hell of a shock. And Vincent was part of this whole procedure … even though all he did was send his aunt and uncle to me. He was a necessary link. I think, honestly, not many could surface from something like that as though nothing had happened.”
“And that’s how Delvecchio seemed to you?”
“Uh-huh. It was even a bit spooky now that I picture it. I was wishing I had brought some Kleenex or a couple of extra handkerchiefs. I expected Vince to be in a state of shock-come to think of it, maybe he was … maybe that’s why he seemed so cool and untouched: He must’ve been in shock!”
“Or,” Tully offered, “had one hell of a good defense mechanism.”
“Huh?”
“I’m borrowing from a little psych that I took at the University of Dallas. Delvecchio may have been in denial. Maybe the news was so devastating to him that the only way he could deal with it was denial-one of the most basic defense mechanisms.”
“You may have a point there, Zack. But he seemed aware of what had happened. We even talked about the funeral. I remember he was amazed that I would consider conducting a Catholic funeral for Frank.”
“But there are lots of modes of denial.” Tully looked thoughtful. “Maybe not the denial of reality-that’s really pretty infantile. But he could deny any responsibility for the matter. And from what you’ve said, Delvecchio wasn’t actually that deeply involved.
“His mother asked him to try and fix an awkward situation. Pressed, and seeking some sort of off-the-cuff solution, he tossed the ball to you.
