what you did yesterday morning-”
“Ah, so I may need to make up for a pre-dawn oversight after all? How wonderful. I assure you, dear wife, that when I make recompense three times for this oversight in attending to your wifely needs-”
“Three times? I thought you said twice?”
“Did I? See how forgetful I have become. It is-”
Vitelleschi entered and waited for the other clerics to find their places; their collegial banter diminished quickly. Although adversaries in the evenings, even Wadding and Mazzare had drifted slowly into a friendship, first based on mutual respect, but ultimately, growing out of a shared celebration of a life of the mind.
But there were no glimmers of that amity present this evening, and Sharon grasped Ruy’s hand hard. “Here we go. I sure hope Larry’s got his game on.”
“Indeed,” Ruy said, and she could tell from the way he said it that he was more interested in listening than talking-which was understandable: this night’s debate might well define the fate of the papacy, and the immediate fate of the embassy, too.
Vitelleschi raised his hands once Urban had taken his seat before the fire. “Today we examine the present exigencies of the Church in light of the enduring mandates of God. We must answer this question: where should the pope go next? We already know the safest course of action”-Vitelleschi’s eyes shifted to Sharon-“and we are in our hostess’ debt for making further, better asylum available to us, merely for the asking. However, it is incumbent upon us to explore if, in accepting such a generous offer, the path of holy grace lies parallel to, or departs from, that mundane prudence. We must ensure that our concern for the physical safety of the Church does not lead us to compromise its autonomy and its spiritual survival. Father Wadding, you shall speak first.”
Wadding rose slowly. “In speaking of gratitude to hosts, Father-General Vitelleschi touches upon the core issue before us: not the nature of our prospective host, but of our responsibilities and duties as a guest. The first and foremost of which must be: never accept a courtesy which you must not repay.
“Note that I say must not repay. I choose the word must quite intentionally. A courtesy that one cannot repay implies a lack of adequate resources. I do not say may not repay, because this speaks to manners: we receive the courtesy of kings, as we receive the grace of Christ, knowing full well that it would be an insult to our host to even attempt repayment in kind. And I do not say should not repay, because the word ‘should’ indicates that this is a recommendation, not a dictum.
“So when might a prospective guest foresee incurring a debt of gratitude that he must not repay? Simply answered, when the host is likely to use the guest’s sense of obligation to compromise his honor.”
Wadding raised a hand, as if indicating an invisible heavenly multitude. “In every culture, the same wisdom is axiomatic: never be beholden to another. On occasion, this is presumed to be a reflex of vainglorious pride. It is not; it is a resolve to maintain absolute sovereignty over one’s own priorities and commitments. This is why we should always ask ourselves this question before crossing a host’s threshold: in this house, might my duties as a guest conflict with my original oaths and loyalties?”
“Consider our special quandary as the terrestrial children of God and the Virgin Mary: what must we be prepared to endure if we enter into the house of a known heretic? For surely, that host will question whether our virgin mother is worthy of veneration, will insult our pontifical ancestors, will challenge whether those forebears rightfully inherited the property they passed down to us, and ultimately, will contend that we do not therefore possess the holy titles, privileges, and duties which are our God-given legacies. What sane man-what moral man- would enter into such a house as a guest, no matter how warmly the invitation is proffered to him?” Wadding spread his arms. “How is our situation any different as we contemplate the invitation of the Swede to shelter in lands that owe fealty to him?”
Mazzare leaned forward; Vitelleschi nodded toward him. “You have something to interject, Your Eminence?”
“This is a false analogy, Father-General. Organizations are not people. Furthermore, rival sovereigns can host each other in amity, even though they maintain contending claims upon the same tract of land. Disagreement does not necessarily predict or imply disrespect, derogation, or conflict.”
Wadding shook his head sharply “My analogy seems false only to minds so fixated upon the world of kings that they have lost sight of the differences implicit when one is discussing the King of the World. Rival kings are rival men; there is no perfection in their relations, nor their judgments. They struggle-even when it is for mutual justice-in the dark.
“Our Heavenly Father has illuminated our path with the Light of His Truth. Our pope is not merely a ruler; he is the living representative of Christ. He possesses the Sacred Magisterium of infallibility in matters of faith and morals. When he enters a house-any house-he should be considered its master; any who deny him this demonstrate, by that denial, that they are estranged from Christ.”
Wadding raised a pausing palm in Larry’s direction. “Save your objections, Cardinal Mazzare. Your time to speak is coming. For now, I would ask you to consider if your own analogy, which likens this matter to affairs of state among congenial kings, truly applies in this case. Can the Swede be considered an amicable monarch, given how his defamations of ‘papists’ have given aid and encouragement to his Protestant allies? Has he recanted? Has he apologized? Has he sent an envoy to the pope?”
Sharon cleared her throat very loudly.
Wadding could not help a brief smile. “I except Grantville and its representatives from these accusations. They speak no ill of Mother Church, have given us the inestimable Cardinal Mazzare as a colleague, and did us the signal honor of sending us their own envoy in the form of Ambassador Nichols, without whose kind intercession none of us would be alive to debate this topic. However, Grantville can barely compel the down-time natives of State of Thuringia and Franconia to obey its laws of religious toleration. Furthermore, the Swede did not send his greetings along with this embassy, or even give it his explicit imprimatur. So far as we know, and so far as we have seen, Gustav Adolf ‘tolerates’ the toleration espoused by his Grantville allies: no more.”
Mazzare stood. “He has mandated the equal practice of religions, and enforced it throughout the United States of Europe in Germany.”
“So it is said. But still: is he a Catholic king? Does he receive the sacrament of confession? Is he in a state of grace-and may he even return to one, should he wish it? Has he not made war upon the Catholic states of France, Bavaria, and Spain? And nearly so with Austria? Is this, then, a king that is in any conceivable way, congenial to our Church, its allies, or its interests?”
Wadding sighed and seemed to sag, suddenly tired and old. “I will assume that you, my brothers in Christ, are incarnations of the perfect will and resolve of the martyrs. I also assume that you would therefore be impervious to the subtle, as well as the great, seductions and coercions of dwelling with such a powerful host, who also has the power to derail or delay both the discussion and dissemination of whatever decrees our pope might make. For let us be frank: if you are Gustav Adolf’s guest, it is the work of a moment for him to make you his hostage, instead.
“However, even assuming that he would not be a faithless host, I am still a weak man. I may be strong in Christ, but I am not so proud as to believe that I possess the moral fiber of the martyrs. What if, in Gustav’s house, I falter in my resolve? What if I do not object to heresy when the Holy Spirit tells me I should? What if I once nod in agreement against my conscience, simply because my host has worn me down with an endless round of entreaties, arguments, and embargos? I ask you,” urged Wadding, coming from around his table, “can the future of the Church be safely planned in such a place?
“For it is not enough that our pope survives this moment; he must rally the faithful to his banners. But how many of our brethren, summoned from the far corners of Christendom and traveling in constant fear of assassins serving a murderous anti-pope, will trust a host who is mostly known for hostility towards their faith? How many will stay away-or more tragically, will come to that place only to succumb to the same moral weakness that I fear in myself? Some? Many? Most? Whatever you respond, I ask one last question: is this path-one which places the heart of our Church in the terrestrial hands of one of its bitterest foes-truly a pathway to grace? Or are we prostituting sacred Mother Church for an old foe’s dubious promise of temporary shelter against a storm?” Wadding resumed his seat amidst absolute silence.
Sharon looked at Ruy, clasping his hand even more tightly. “Damn, Wadding is good,” she whispered.
“Distressingly so,” Ruy agreed and fell silent, his eyes upon Larry Mazzare’s back.
Mazzare, still seated, began quietly. “Our Savior unveils His Will in the examples of the Gospels. And what we discover in his deeds-even more loudly than his words-are lessons about the limits of strong places. Christ was born
