insuperable nature of papal infallibility. Rather, we may look to its elegant reliance upon the common context of the word ‘prior’ to understand the relationship between the infallible utterances of this world, and Cardinal Mazzare’s. Although we lack detailed documentation in this place-”
God be praised, thought Barberini with an irreverent smile.
“-I find that both down- and up-time constraints upon papal infallibility invariably stipulate that a prior pope’s ex cathedra statements and doctrinal decrees may not be overturned, contravened, or ignored by later popes. Consequently, I do not see a paradox at all as long as we accept that ‘prior’ is not a term subject to recontextualization: it means ‘to occur before.’ Nothing more, nothing less.
“Cardinal Mazzare suggests, on the other hand, that we must eschew such a common-sense definition of the word and instead dive into a maelstrom of temporal paradoxes from which we cannot ever hope to emerge. He also proposes to resolve supposed ‘contradictions’ in the footnote in Gaudium et Spes which asserts that some of its own infallible elements ‘have a permanent value; others, only a transitory one.’” Wadding smiled. “This statement neither contains nor engenders any contradictions. It is merely a reminder that the Truth that is God cannot be beheld by His children all at once. Indeed, as the Creator told Moses, no man may behold the face of God and live. Therefore, since we cannot survive exposure to the entirety of His Truth at once, we must have it relayed to us in successive parts, each new epiphany being withheld until our souls have grown enough to be ready for it.
“Cardinal Mazzare provided us with a most instructive analogy for this process: he likened it to the way in which children change. And what does the note to Gaudium et Spes say, really, other than this: that the basic rules we learn as spiritual infants are not tossed aside, but enriched and expanded as we grow. A five-year-old child might have a sense of right and wrong, and even justice. But would any one of us maintain that his understanding then will be the equal of that which he possesses when he is fifteen, or thirty-five, presuming he grows in Christ as he grows in his body?”
Father-General Vitelleschi was frowning. “Are you therefore suggesting, Your Eminence, that the population of the up-time world was more ready for complex truths than the population of our own world?”
Wadding nodded. “That is a distinct possibility. After all, the up-time world had three and a half more centuries experience in adapting to the complexities of religious toleration and political equality. The increasing phenomena of marriage between Catholics and Protestants, and then Jews and Gentiles, gave them ample opportunity to work out in daily practice what we down-timers see as unthinkably radical theological and social change.”
“And how does this instruct us?” asked Vitelleschi.
Wadding bowed his head. “It shows us that our Lord is truly a kind, loving, and above all, foresightful parent. He waited for the up-timers to grow into these accomplishments before he set them the challenges implicit in Vatican II. Allow me to illustrate what I mean in mundane terms: would you teach your little child to climb a cliff- face before he can walk? No, because it is imperative that, as a parent, you make sure that he walks, and then acquires other requisite skills, before he may confront the cliff-face. Similarly, God ensured the gradual maturation of the up-time world and Church, before sharing what was for them the infallible wisdom of Vatican II. For Cardinal Mazzare and his peers, Vatican II was an exhilarating new cliff to climb; for us, it would simply be a fast and fatal fall.”
Wadding folded his hands. “Our wise and Loving God would not impose the same challenge upon both societies, without regard to their respective levels of readiness. And so I argue the term ‘transitory,’ as it is used in Gaudium et Spes, simply reminds us that the perfect parental wisdom of our Heavenly Father is both firm and flexible.”
Wadding paused. “Popes-whatever else they may be-are still merely men, and are thus products of the time in which they live. They’re born into the same reality as the flock in which they are raised, and ultimately, of which they become shepherds. Thus, you might say, each pope enjoys a special Temporal Charism. The inspiration of the Holy Spirit ensures that they are, so to speak, the right pope at the right time for the right flock.”
Wadding turned toward Mazzare. “So let us allow that your John XXIII was such a pope, who called for ecumenicism in a world that teetered on the brink of man-made apocalypse. Let us assume that the same was true of your Pope John Paul II, who exerted his Sacred Magisterium to promulgate these infallible doctrines of tolerance. These papal actions may have played an essential role in ensuring the survival of your world, which was every bit as fear-filled and war-weary as this one.”
“But it was also a very, very different world from this one. Yours was a world which had already resolved many conflicts that we are not ready to set aside, or maybe, more to the point, know that God does not yet wish us to set aside. Either way, I put it to you that your popes made the right choices for the flock of their time. But this is not that time, and this is not that flock. And so the same choices are not right for us-no matter how infallible they were in the context of your up-time world.”
Wadding sat. Vitelleschi looked over at Cardinal Mazzare. “Your Eminence, do you have anything you wish to add?”
Mazzare shook his head. “No, Father-General; I am done.”
As Antonio Barberini concluded his transcription and began dating and witnessing the document, he watched Mazzare rise more slowly than usual and thought, Yes, Your Eminence, you were done about halfway through. And then he realized, If the up-timer has one more day like that, I suspect my immediate future will not include a papal Progress to a nice, safe haven somewhere in USE territory. Rather, I may be on the run in the provinces of Italy for the rest of my very short life.
Cardinal Antonio Barberini found that thought not only unappealing, but downright terrifying.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Thomas North had to admit it: Harry Lefferts was not just a fine special operative, he was a fine field officer, as well. And nothing proved that so clearly, and so profoundly, as his ability to simply wait.
The pirate ship-an uncommonly large llaut, as the Mallorquin fishermen had claimed-had arrived and started its cautious approach to the Bay of Canyamel in the early hours of the morning. It put a small boat over its side when the sky was still goose-gray, and loitered behind while that skiff made its way into the bay just after dawn. Dressed as fishermen, the pirates rowed the small boat to the foot of the caves. Harry and North had watched through binoculars as they scrambled up the steep and craggy slope and then passed within, uneventfully.
That had been more than an hour ago. Many officers-both new and seasoned-would, by now, be fretting about what had happened. Under conditions like these, too many officers became convinced that it was A Bad Sign that none of their own men had emerged yet and so, started straining at the bit to go help-personally.
Not Harry Lefferts. He lazed on the stern thwart. If it was an act, it was a very good one. “Hey, owner-aboard and Captain,” North said.
“What?”
“I suppose I should inform you that there’s a movement afoot to name the ships.”
“Oh? What are the names?”
“Well, the Ragusans have always had a name for their gajeta: Zora, or ‘ Dawn. ’ The Venetians felt that the old name for the barca-longa was a bit parochial and tepid, so they changed it from the Maria to the Guerra Cagna.”
“ War Bitch? ” translated Harry. “Catchy.”
“Quite. And I renamed the xebec myself: it’s now the Atropos.”
“What?…Oh, I get it. Bravo, Mr. Hornblower. I didn’t take you for the nautical type.” Harry patted the gunwale of the scialuppa. “And what have they decided to call this bucket?”
North shrugged. “They’re leaving it with the name it always had: the Pesciolino.”
“The Little Fish?”
“As I understand it, the context is more akin to ‘the Minnow.’”
Harry’s jaw fell open. “The Minnow? Really? The Minnow?” And without any warning, he fell backward in the thwarts, laughing so hard that Thomas was concerned that some delicate mental thread in the up-timer had finally snapped.
But upon rising to check on Harry, North discovered that the captain’s malady was indeed nothing more than
