The Greatest Evil

priests.

“That”-Koesler tapped tobacco into firmness and lit a cigarette-“is, mostly, what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Finn had already inserted a cigarette into its silver holder and accepted a light from Koesler’s Zippo. Smoke streamed from his nostrils. “Can we be of any help?” Finn opened wide the door to whatever was concerning Koesler.

“Quite frankly …” Koesler made firm eye contact. “… I’m here about Vincent Delvecchio.”

Finn grew a bit more guarded. He was not happy with anyone who might meddle with the students given unto his care. “Delvecchio isn’t here just now. I gave him permission to go home for the day … something about his mother.”

“I know.”

Finn cocked an eyebrow.

“His mother hasn’t been well for quite some time,” Koesler said.

“I know.”

“What was different about today,” Koesler continued, “was the diagnosis-or rather the verdict.”

“That bad!” Not in so many words had Koesler spoken of Mrs. Delvecchio’s terminal condition. But Finn had divined the conclusion.

Koesler nodded. “Pancreatic cancer.”

Finn exhaled audibly. “Is there any hope? Radiation?”

“Her doctor doesn’t hold much hope. No, change that and let’s be realistic: no hope.”

“And the family?”

“Holding up better than I expected.”

“We will, of course, pray.”

“That’s one of the things I wanted to mention.”

“Prayer?” Finn had taken that for granted.

“Vincent has gone a bit beyond a prayer asking for relief of suffering, resignation to God’s will, that sort of thing …” Koesler paused. “He wants a miracle. No, stronger: He expects a miracle. To happen as a result of prayer.”

“And his mother?”

“Well, she wouldn’t turn down a miracle. Like all the noble mothers I’ve known, she wants to be preserved so she can care for her children.”

“She really expects a miracle?”

“Hopes … prays; I don’t think she expects.”

“Vincent’s brother and sister?”

It somewhat surprised Koesler that Finn would-off the top of his head-know that Vincent had two siblings. There were so many students here. But that was Finn’s way: He knew everything he could about everyone.

Koesler snuffed out his cigarette. “Tony agreed to pray. But as far as enlisting others … not much of a chance. It’s hard to imagine him making a plea to the faculty and students of Western Michigan to join in prayer for a miraculous healing.

“As for Lucy …”

“She’s just graduating high school, isn’t she?”

If not surprised, Koesler surely was impressed with Finn’s familiarity as to his students’ families. “Yes,” he acknowledged. “She’s going to have to be the mainstay of this effort. She’ll have the day-to-day responsibility. She was supposed to enlist the special prayers of the parishioners and students at St. William’s parish. But I’ve already talked to the pastor, and it’s no dice.”

“Surely he would not turn down a request for prayer!”

“No, no. I’m sorry; I didn’t phrase that very well. Of course he’ll ask the parish for prayer-but not for a miracle.”

“Hmmm … interesting,” Finn mused. “Was there a stated reason?”

“Uh-huh. Father Walsh feared that their faith would be harmed or weakened if and when the miracle was not granted.”

“So Father Walsh is convinced there will be no miracle.”

“He’s been around.” It was Koesler’s best evaluation of the situation. Probably Walsh had asked for his share of miracles that hadn’t been granted. To the point where he believed that a miracle was an extremely rare event- and doubted that he would see one personally.

As it happened, the same line of thought occurred to Father Finn. One more parochial experience for the mental file cabinet. What might have been a smile played about Father Finn’s lips. “Well, then, since this petition for a miraculous cure seems to have originated with Mr. Delvecchio, and since he has tried to enlist his brother and sister to start such a crusade in their schools and parish, may I assume a similar proposal will be made to this institution?”

“That is one of the reasons I’m here.”

“You are going to make the plea?”

“No, not really. My purpose is to prepare you for Vinnie’s request.” He figured he might get away with this straight-from-the-shoulder presentation because he was no longer a student but a graduate. Finn was a priest, but no more so than Koesler. And vice versa. Clerically, they were on the same level now: equals.

The rector set his already firm jaw. “I’m afraid we’ll have to disappoint Mr. Delvecchio.” The statement was emotionless, a simple declaration of fact. While the rector might feel himself on shaky ground when it came to practical hands-on parochial experience, he was more than sure of himself when seminary training was the issue.

“It’s just a prayer,” Koesler stated.

“Oh, we will pray. Not for a. miracle, but that God’s holy will be done.”

“Then you agree with Father Walsh that if there is no miracle, the faith of the seminarians will be shaken?”

Finn hesitated only a few seconds. Had Koesler been a student, he would have received no explanation. But since Finn was discussing this matter with a fellow priest, he would amplify his statement. “My thinking has something-but very little-to do with Father’s Walsh’s reason. But I must admit this is the best of times for a future priest to learn that he cannot-cannot-rely in any way on miraculous intervention.

“As a priest, he will have to deal many times over with people who have nothing left to turn to but a miracle. The seminarian learns that God does not multiply miracles. Now-before ordination-is the time to learn this. And if it must be learned in the school of hard knocks, all the better. It will save him from supporting the plea for God to change the course of nature.”

He paused, then continued, with emphasis. “But I am much more concerned with the impact such a singular campaign would have on the student body. We, in these final four years of the theologate, are a community. We cannot permit a student or group of students to fragment this community.

“Do you remember, Bob, when, after you were here a short while, your class wanted to continue your custom from the minor seminary of reciting the Rosary together as a group each Saturday evening?”

At first Koesler recalled the request only vaguely, and that only because Finn had brought it up. Then, memory jogged, he recollected clearly the custom, the request, and the rector’s rejection. “Now that, you mention it, I do remember: You refused our request. But I’ll bet you never heard the rest of the story.”

“Oh?”

“Patrick McNiff was the one who acted as spokesman for our class. When you turned him down, he came to the rest of us and announced, ‘The old man hates the Blessed Mother.’”

Finn did not find this humorous. “That of course is not true. I gave my reason, and it had nothing to do with rosary devotion. I did not want any one of our four classes to set itself apart from the rest of the student body. And for the same reason: I do not think it wise to set a precedent in singling out one student’s petition from the rest. Soon we could be dealing with petitions for miraculous cures from all parts of the prayer hall. I think Father Walsh was wise in not involving his parishioners in a cause that is more or less doomed to frustration. That, as well as not allowing a divisive element in this community, will prompt me to refuse Mr. Delvecchio’s request-if and when he presents it.”