How the Protestants would laugh, Father O’Reilly thought bitterly. The Emergency Catholic Council had been divided; a number had wanted to stick to the new-old ways, others had been certain that Pius would see the logic of their case, and still others thought that Pius should be removed at once as a threat to the Church. Finally, they’d agreed to send a representative to Rome, and to wait. For the moment, Priests were ordered to stay with the 2015 version – and wait for Pius to have his say.
A door opened soundlessly behind him; a white-haired man dressed in the garments of a priest stepped through. When he spoke, he spoke in a German accent; a priest on the run from the Gestapo perhaps. Father O’Reilly knew that a number of refugees had been given sanctuary in the Vatican, before the Germans sealed it off.
“The Holy Father will see you now,” he said finally. Father O’Reilly took a deep breath and followed him, walking into the private audience chamber. Pope Pius XII, former Cardinal Eugenio Pacelli, stood there, waiting for him.
“Greetings in Christ,” he said, as Father O’Reilly knelt to kiss his ring. He’d met Pope John before the Transition; he could not help, but think that Pius cut a far less impressive picture. “You have brought us a fascinating puzzle.”
“I wish I could claim that I understood what had happened,” Father O’Reilly said, taking the preferred seat. A private meeting was more than he had dared hope for. “You see that there are many issues at hand.”
“The authority of the Church must remain unquestioned,” Pius said, and Father O’Reilly felt his heart sink. “You must understand that the Pope is Christ’s vicar on Earth.”
Father O’Reilly found himself lost for words. With a silent prayer, he pressed on. “Holy Father, we have a serious question of dogma,” he said grimly. “As you may have observed in the documents we brought, the power and authority of the Church has been much reduced.”
“I read the documents,” Pius said. Father O’Reilly was reminded uncomfortably of a schoolmaster. “Part of the problem seems to have been concessions made by my… successors, on ill-judged issues.”
Father O’Reilly scowled. “I believe the problem began when the Vatican failed to act against the destruction of the Jews, Holy Father,” he said. “You were willing to work with Hitler and…”
“Had we failed to agree to strict terms of conduct, and to have our authority over Church matters stated clearly, we would be in a far worse position,” Pius said. “Hitler may be bad, but Stalin is hell incarnate.”
“Hitler has begun… exterminating the Poles, many of whom are Catholics,” Father O’Reilly said. “Holy Father, the most famous pope of recent years my have been killed before even being born!”
“We cannot proceed on the assumption that a soul is already damned or saved,” Pius said. “We have the assurance that that, at least, is a mortal sin. The events in Ireland are deeply distressing.”
“With all due respect, the Irish are reacting to the news of horrors that will be committed, either in secret now, or in the future,” Father O’Reilly said softly. “Holy Father, are you going to act to prevent the genocide?”
“The preservation of the Church’s authority is paramount,” Pius said. “If we take an open stand against Hitler, we will face destruction. Hitler has… crossed the lines of his Reichskonkordat already; how much more will he do if we provoke him? We have a duty to minister to the members of the Church, which we cannot do if Hitler prevents us from operating…”
“Some of your members are being massacred,” Father O’Reilly snapped. “The Reichskonkordat tells Hitler that you will support him!” He knew that it was an exaggeration, legally speaking, but Hitler considered it as such. “Hitler has already begun to weaken you still further; you know how much of your power has been removed, and priests have been thrown in jail…”
“Something that your information has aided,” Pius said. “We have formally protested to Prime Minister De Valera.”
“Did Hitler himself not say that ‘The Third Reich does not desire a modus vivendi with the Catholic Church, but rather its destruction with lies and dishonour, in order to make room for a German Church in which the German race will be glorified?’” Father O’Reilly asked. “Holy Father, the Church must confront the evil openly and wholeheartedly…”
“We cannot,” Pius said. “We are vulnerable here; the Germans will intervene and burn the Holy See to the ground if we oppose them openly.”
Father O’Reilly felt dismay and a cold sense of resolution. “Holy Father, have you no faith in your lord?”
“You overstep yourself,” Pius snapped, showing the first trace of anger. “I have to preserve the Church itself for the ages, something my successors clearly failed to do. By making concessions to demands, they fatally weakened the Church’s authority.”
It was on the tip of Father O’Reilly’s tongue to expose the hypocrisy. He held himself back, barely, from bursting out with anger. “I cannot make the same mistakes, again,” Pius said. “I must issue a formal dogmatic definition, one ordering the Catholics on Britain and Ireland to return to the… standard conventions of this time, and to crease persecuting priests…”
“If you had been more careful in your supervision of the priests, there would have been no scandal,” Father O’Reilly snapped. “The Church resisted the temptation to confront evil until it was almost too late…”
“The Church is the supreme arbiter of who serves it or not,” Pius said, gently, as if he wasn’t inclined to argue at all. “As thou well knowst, my son.”
“I know no such thing,” Father O’Reilly said sadly. “Holy Father…”
“You will take my decision, made with the authority vested in me, back to Britain,” Pius said. “The Vatican Council will review the history texts you brought with you; they will recommend further steps to avoid the disasters we would have suffered. Your arrival may be a gift from God, a way to correct mistakes before they were ever made.”
As soon as he had been dismissed, Father O’Reilly made his way back to his apartment. He felt dreadfully cold inside; the Pope refused to recognise the seriousness of the situation. He didn’t know why it had been a surprise, or why it hurt so much; historically the Church had been unwilling to recognise problems until it had been – almost – too late. The attempt to exterminate the Jews, the certainty of destruction at the hands of Stalin and his communist state – although no one knew in what respect it was a union, soviet, socialist or a republic, the growing number of exposed paedophilic priests… the Church had staggered from disaster to disaster, often refusing to admit that a problem existed.
“God help me,” he said aloud, and lay on the bed. He prayed silently, wishing that he had someone else to take the burden from him. Pius had promised transport back to Britain, but Father O’Reilly rather expected that the Germans would object, or try to slip an agent in with the Papal mission. The promise of a direct representative didn’t bode well; Pius clearly wanted to supervise proceedings directly.
“Perhaps the money-changers are really within the temple after all,” he said. Intellectually, he could sympathise with the Pope’s problems, the need to walk a fine line between doing what was right and doing what was expedient, but the world needed better. Catholicism deserved better. The Pope had a duty to the Poles, to the thousands of millions threatened by the Germans, and he had no right to shirk that duty.