What kept people of good will apart? Ancient arguments, disagreements, theological bickering, traditions of distrust, and people like Augustine, who, in Koesler’s view, put Church laws and customs-all man-made-above the simple invitation of Christ to love as completely and encompassingly as He had.
Like most everything else in life, the offering of Mass could not be separated from the emotions of the moment. He had offered Masses that had been inspired, reflective, meditative, disrupted, distracted, disturbed. This Mass would be tainted by the angry words of Father Augustine. There was nothing Koesler could do about that. Just chalk it up to experience.
But it left him wondering about Father Augustine May, osco. Was there that much differentiating the mean- spirited May from the greedy, grubby Klaus Krieg? Did they deserve each other?
10
It was mid-morning before Koesler again encountered Father Augustine.
Augustine got off the elevator at the first floor just as Koesler finished descending the stairs. Their paths merged as they turned to walk down the corridor. That was unfortunate as far as Koesler was concerned. Had they been going in opposite directions, a mere nod would have sufficed. Walking together in silence was awkward considering their contentious exchange a few hours earlier. Koesler felt distinctly uncomfortable.
Yet it was Koesler who spoke first. “Well, Father, did you call the Chancery?”
“Huh? What?” For all intents and purposes it appeared that Augustine had no idea what Koesler was referring to. “The Chancery? Oh, about that business of Mass this morning. Yes. Yes, I did. Uh-huh. Yes.”
They proceeded a bit further in silence. “And?” Koesler asked.
“And it’s damn hard finding the chancellor, a vice-chancellor, or an assistant chancellor on a Monday morning.”
“But you did.”
“What?”
“Find one.”
“Eventually. One of the assistants.”
“And?” Koesler could sympathize with dentists who had to pull teeth.
“He seemed bored by the whole business. Asked me if I knew whether you actually went through with the thing. Concelebrated. I told him I didn’t stick around to find out, but I heard you hadn’t.”
“Then?”
“He thanked me for calling. Told me to call anytime.”
Koesler couldn’t help smiling. He could imagine the sort of day the Chancery priest had to look forward to. Maybe some pickets outside on Washington Boulevard protesting a Catholic school-or parish-closing.
Maybe a priest getting arrested trying to invade the mayor’s office to get him to close some crack cocaine house or tear down some of the vacant dangerous buildings wherein school children were being raped. Maybe a parish delegation angry at their pastor for trying to lead them back to the thirteenth century. Maybe a parish delegation angry at their pastor for trying to lead them on to the twenty-first century.
In any case, as he had anticipated, the Chancery wasn’t about to get too concerned about an unauthorized ecumenical worship service. Especially when less than ten people were involved-no TV cameras, no reporters, no notoriety. Particularly when the bottom line was that it had been
“You’ve got a funny diocese here, I must say, Father,” Augustine added. “Nobody seems terribly interested in the niceties of Canon Law.”
“Vatican II hit us hard.”
“So I’ve always heard. Never experienced it until this morning. With all this going on I’m amazed that your archbishop was named a Cardinal.”
“Had to be. He was the first elected president of the U. S. Bishops’ Conference. Rome couldn’t overlook that no matter how hard they tried.”
“Maybe. Well, I guess so. Anyway, it doesn’t matter much. I did what I had to do. Up to them now. I don’t care what they do. No skin off my hide. But, if I were you, Father, I’d be careful. You can be rock-solid sure somebody, sometime, is going to bypass your rather laid-back Chancery and go directly to Rome.
“Well, good day.” Augustine turned to go into Sister Janet’s office, leaving Koesler alone in the corridor.
Strange, strange man, thought Koesler. After all those heated words in the sacristy, he had expected discomfiture, at least, in their relationship for the remainder of this workshop.
On the contrary, Father Augustine seemed to possess a most rare and uncanny ability to compartmentalize. Able to work himself into a sanctimonious frenzy then have almost no memory of it. Turn the outlaw in, to the authorities, immediately followed by washing his hands of the whole matter. Even slow to remember what it was all about.
Koesler chuckled. He’d met Augustine for the first time last evening. The very next day Augustine accuses Koesler of engaging in an unauthorized ecumenical service. The poor Trappist must think Koesler to be utterly without regard for Church law.
Nothing could be further from the truth. Koesler’s life revolved around the Church. He read ecclesiastical periodicals voraciously and faithfully. In short, his grasp of theological trends and developments was easily as up- to-date as anyone’s.
Thus, in the matter of concelebrating with an Episcopal priest, Koesler knew he was on arguably solid ground. Nothing now stood in the way of Rome’s recognition of the validity of Anglican orders except what to do about women who wanted to be priests. It was seen as inappropriate to make the declaration of unity while the Anglican Church allowed women priests and the Episcopal Church had a female bishop. However, none of that had anything to do with historical accuracy and true doctrine.
The way Rome felt about women priests, let alone women bishops, it was not likely the current Pope would put his stamp of approval on the validity of Anglican orders, no matter how valid they really were.
In any case, the incident this morning between himself, Augustine, and Benbow was revealing.
Obviously Augustine was strongly wed to the letter of the law. Yet to be determined was whether he inflicted this tight interpretation, this legalistic rigidity, on himself as well. Over the years, Koesler had met any number of people eager to demand of others slavish obedience to rules and regulations. But when it came to themselves, they were much more understanding and permissive. Of course there were those whose legalism applied as equally to themselves as to others. In which camp was Augustine? Perhaps time would tell.
One thing about Augustine was certain: He could be cruel. And, indeed, this morning he had been brutal to David Benbow and, by extension, to Martha Benbow. Augustine had shown no sensitivity whatsoever in the delicate matter of liturgical practice.
As he strolled the manicured campus of Marygrove College, Koesler wondered about this mean streak revealed by the Trappist. How strong was it? To what extremes could it lead?
Last night, when the charade of Krieg’s murder was played out, Augustine was the only character in the psychodrama who never became a suspect. That was due solely to his being very much under the weather. What if it had not been make-believe? What if Krieg actually had been murdered? What if Augustine had not been taken ill? Or had he really been ill?
Did anyone else on this “faculty” know about Augustine’s quick temper and his churlishly cruel streak? If the others knew, would Augustine have been a prime suspect?
Interesting, if moot, questions. But purely hypothetical. As far as any of them knew, Krieg-who had not as yet this morning deigned to arrive on campus-was alive and well. There had been no murder. There were no suspects.
So, Koesler decided to forget about it. For all practical purposes, the incident was over and done with. Undoubtedly, the Benbows would not return to attend any future liturgies. They had been pretty effectively scared
