But Koesler was unaware of the media’s glomming on to Father Reichert’s buzzword. Right now Koesler’s principal aim was to clear the church and lock up. “How about it, Dan … let’s call it a day. We need some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be hectic.”
Reichert wheeled on Koesler. “You bet it’s going to be hectic,” he barked. “We’ve got an appointment with the Cardinal tomorrow morning at nine in the Chancery. You’d better be there. You’ve got a lot to answer for.”
“What!?” Koesler was amazed. “After what happened here tonight? Why, you were the one who said this was a miracle! Besides, nobody informed me about a meeting.”
“They probably left a message-you’d know if you took your calls or checked with your answering service. I talked to the head of the Curia. He agreed that the Cardinal would want to clear this up personally. Monsignor is the one who set the meeting.”
“You mean after what happened here tonight, you want to rehash all this stuff about having the wake in church?”
“You should never have agreed to it. Never! You were wrong, and the fact that a miracle came of it doesn’t justify your decision. You’re going to pay for that!” He stormed out of the church.
Koesler, shoulders slumped, stood in the sanctuary. He had been counting on the only rainbow he could find in this storm: At least he would be spared the confrontation with Dan Reichert. Now …?
Now he would lock up and retreat to his room. He was so exhausted he would have retired well before the late newscasts. But tonight he would be the star of the show.
Tomorrow morning that star had a very good chance of being drawn into a black hole.
Chapter Ten
Greetings were cursory.
Father Koesler had not slept well. Father Reichert was filled with righteous anger. And Cardinal Boyle was suffering jet lag.
Koesler had long admired the Cardinal. Tall, handsome, whitehaired, with piercing blue eyes, Boyle was a born leader. But he did not welcome rigged confrontations such as this.
Boyle had many archdiocesan problems to deal with today. But he was a quick study. There were two distinct elements in the matter presently on the table. One was Koesler’s decision to hold the wake of a Jew in a Catholic church. The other, and far more pressing, was this business of a “miracle.”
When and if there was an undemanding moment today, Boyle would reach an understanding with his chancellor. The monsignor had scheduled this meeting solely to deal with Koesler’s decision. When the appointment had originally been made, Dr. Green had not yet been found alive in his coffin. There had been no need to arrange for an immediate meeting over the wake issue. In fact, had Father Reichert not been so insistent, there might have been no need at all for a meeting.
The other issue was something else altogether.
Fed by the media, Dr. Green’s “resurrection” had become the prime topic on nearly everyone’s lips. That had to be addressed.
Boyle gave Reichert undivided attention.
“Father”-Boyle was ever formal-“it was at your insistence that this meeting was called. You may begin.”
Reichert shifted in his chair and leaned forward. “It is simple, Eminence. Father Koesler here accorded sacred rites-rites that even Catholics must earn-to an unbaptized heathen. And he attempted to do so surreptitiously by scheduling the rites on the very day of the Jew’s death. Credo res ipsa loquitur: I believe the deed speaks for itself.”
Neither Boyle nor Koesler understood why Reichert felt he needed to translate.
Boyle turned his attention to Koesler-the priest’s cue to speak. “Well, it neither is nor was all that simple.” Koesler went on to explain the Catholic connection on nearly everyone’s part. How Dr. and Mrs. Green had discussed the burial details in advance. One major flaw in their plans was in not checking with the various institutions ahead of time. In fact, it was Mrs. Green’s insistence on holding the wake in a Catholic church that prompted the Jewish funeral home to refuse to service the burial.
Koesler then tried to clarify the extent of ritual that he had agreed to. There was no hint of a rite of Christian burial in what he and Mrs. Green had planned; Koesler insisted that he never would have agreed to anything remotely suggestive of that. All he had agreed to was permitting the body to lie in state for one part of one evening. He had tried-unsuccessfully, as it turned out-to hold the crowd down. If things had gone according to plan, there would have been no notoriety. But … who could have anticipated how things would turn out?
At that point, Reichert interrupted. He insisted that only one skilled in liturgy could tell the difference between the wake service-during which Koesler had been slated to speak-and Christian burial.
Reichert added that as for notoriety’s being avoided, a reporter from the Detroit News had been present. She surely was there to cover the service-the service she certainly would have reported in the paper if something far more compelling hadn’t taken place.
And, finally, Reichert noted, canon law states that in any doubt regarding burial, the ordinary must be consulted. And, here, there was plenty of doubt.
“Your Eminence,” Koesler explained, “you were on a plane returning to Detroit. Under those circumstances, I thought it best to make the decision on my own.”
All this time, Cardinal Boyle, fingertips in a triangle in front of his lips, had been gently rocking in his high-backed upholstered chair. He now sat more erect and flashed his French cuffs as he addressed the two men.
“In this matter, you both have points of merit.” He turned to Koesler. “I can understand your reasoning, Father Koesler. In the final analysis, however, I believe you should have contacted me aboard the plane. And, based on what you both have explained, I would have denied permission for this wake.”
Koesler’s spirits, not at all high, sank even further.
At that moment, Koesler completely put out of mind any intent to bring up Reichert’s peculiar doctrine that a hysterectomy was an impediment to marriage. At this point, it would seem as if Koesler were striking back like a spoiled child. To bring it up in these circumstances would not cause Reichert to moderate or relinquish his bad theology. And in any case, it was utterly out of context as far as Boyle was concerned.
Father Koesler would fight this battle another day.
“There simply was too great a chance of misinterpreting what you were doing,” the Cardinal went on. “I do not believe the scandal given was of a pharisaical nature. However, there is, I think, necessarily, a bit of Monday morning quarterbacking in this. So, I do not completely fault your judgment, Father Koesler.
“But there is yet a matter of considerable importance left to deal with. I believe every segment of the media I have seen, listened to, or read, from late last night through this morning-all of them refer to the event as a ‘miracle.’
“Now, Father Reichert, in many, if not most of these accounts, it was you who labeled this a miracle. I realize that the media can be overzealous if not inaccurate at times. Is there substance to these reports? Did you, indeed, use the word miracle in describing what occurred last night? And for attribution?”
A sanctimonious smile crept over Reichert’s lips. “I did. Yes, I did, Your Eminence. I was there. I saw it with my own eyes. I was one of the earliest to arrive at the church.”
I’ll bet you were, thought Koesler. You weren’t going to let anything get past you.
“I viewed the body,” Reichert continued. “Since only a handful were present, I could take my time. That man was dead. I’ve seen my share of the dead in my time. He was dead.