The Parchment (33 page)

Almost by happenstance, Barbo saw the large statue of the Risen Christ behind the Jesuit Mother House on the Borgo Santo Spirito. In five days it would be Easter Sunday. As a child, Barbo had always looked forward to Easter more than any other day in the year. Easter meant big family dinners and colorful new clothes — and
uova di Pasqua
, the traditional chocolate eggs his mother made. After dinner, the family would go out into the street and light Roman candles and sparklers. As he grew older, the cardinal continued to indulge his “secular pleasure” at Easter time. Every Holy Saturday night, he would join the tens of thousands of Romans and watch
the fuochi d'artificio
display over Castel Sant'Angelo.

To a priest, however, Easter was much more than new clothes and family dinners. It was the day when Jesus triumphed over death — the central belief of all Christianity. The Easter gospels had always puzzled Barbo. Three of the evangelists report that, after he rose from the dead, Jesus appeared first to the Magdalene and then to Peter, John, and the other Apostles. And now the discovery of this Hebrew manuscript. If Jesus and the Magdalene were man and wife, it would explain why he appeared first to her.

The exhaust backfire of a tourist bus ricocheted through St. Peter's Square like a gunshot, scattering flocks of pigeons in all directions. The loud noise startled Barbo. He heard the phone ring in his office. He hoped it was something Alessandri could handle.

Alessandri picked up the phone.

“Excuse me, Your Eminence. There's a Pietro Visconti on the line. He insists on talking to you.”

Barbo had avoided telephoning Visconti since the night of their meeting in Trastevere. Like a small child, he had hoped that the ghost in the closet would simply go away. But now he knew what he had to do: Above all else, he had to protect the Church. Barbo knew the Church is not a club for smug American and European Catholics who attend services on Christmas and Easter. For them, women priests, priestly celibacy, and the power of local bishops are hot-button issues. More and more, however, the power in the Church is shifting to the poor and the working classes in Africa, Latin America, and Asia. The Catholics there believe in relics and miracles and do not care about the ordination of women so long as the Blessed Virgin remains a part of their lives. The knowledge that Jesus had sexual relations with the Magdalene would shatter their faith in the Church. There is a natural momentum to such things. If people begin to question their belief in Jesus' celibacy, they might also begin to question their belief in the Virgin Birth and, ultimately, in the Resurrection itself. Although he had suffered guilt and remorse, de Saone had made the same decision that now Barbo would have to make — to suppress the parchment and protect the Church.

The secretary of state took the phone from Alessandri. “Pietro?”

“Ah, Eminenza, thank you for taking my call. Have you had time to consider what we talked about in Trastevere?”

“Yes, Visconti. I will accept your offer. There are issues that will have to be worked out—particularly access to accounts.” The secretary of state tried not to be too specific; he did not trust telephones when discussing such sensitive matters.

Barbo could hear the satisfaction in Visconti's voice. “Even when friends agree, there are always the details of implementation.” Visconti paused for a moment. “Eminenza, I'm glad you accepted. I didn't want to help Diefenbacher's papal ambitions. Our friends in South Africa say he is not a man to be trusted.”

“There is one condition, Visconti.”

“What is that?”

“The parchment must be authenticated by someone from the Vatican Library.”

“As you wish. The parchment has already been subjected to carbon dating and pollen tests that confirm its authenticity. But you need not accept my word on that. Send your expert tomorrow morning at eight o'clock.”

“Where?”

“The manuscript will be in Professor Baldini's office at the University of Rome. He will arrange for the tests.”

TRUST IN THE L
RD

M
ARTIN
F
ELLOWS
, C
URATOR
of Hebrew Manuscripts at the Vatican Library, walked into Cardinal Barbo's outer office.

Alessandri looked at the list of Barbo's scheduled appointments.

“Martin, there is no room in his schedule for today. How about tomorrow?”

“His Eminence left a voice-mail message. He wanted to see me as soon as possible.”

“Let me speak to him.” Alessandri buzzed the cardinal's inner office. “Martin Fellows is here to see you, Your Eminence. He's not on your calendar.”

Barbo sounded impatient. “Show him in, Alessandri.”

Fellows was something of an anomaly on the Vatican Library staff. He was a renowned authority on Hebrew manuscripts, but he was not a Catholic. In fact, as a born-again Christian and an avowed Freemason, he had pronouncedly anti-Catholic views on many subjects. What redeemed Fellows in most people's eyes, however, was his close friendship with Cardinal Barbo. Given Barbo's interest in the Knights Templar, the two men — cardinal and Freemason— spent many nights discussing medieval history and poring over ancient texts from the Vatican Library collections. It was a relationship that both men valued.

Barbo motioned Fellows to take a seat. “Martin, I need your expertise. It's a matter of some urgency.”

“Of course, Francesco.” Few nonclerics dared address the secretary of state by his first name.

“Two American professors claim they have found a first-century Hebrew manuscript containing census records.”

Fellows laughed. “You can find these census lists in almost any manuscript library in the world.”

Barbo stood up. “But this one's different.”

“How?”

Cardinal Barbo hesitated for a moment. “Because it lists Jesus and the Magdalene as man and wife.”

“Sounds like a forgery to me. Let me look at it. If I have to, I'll do a carbon dating.”

“Do you know Professor Baldini?”

“At the University of Rome? Yes, of course.”

“The manuscript will be at Baldini's office tomorrow morning at eight o'clock.”

“Okay—if I have to carbon date it, I should have preliminary readings by about nine o'clock at night. Final results will take much longer.”

After Fellows left, Barbo quickly finished reading some diplomatic cables and buzzed Alessandri on the intercom.

“Enrico, have a Vatican limousine meet me downstairs in fifteen minutes. I am due at the Pontifical University for a reception of the Latin-American cardinals.”

The Pontifical University of St. Thomas is located in the heart of Rome at the bottom of Via Nazionale. Nicknamed the “Angelicum,” the university is normally a half-hour ride from the Vatican. But not this evening. A snarled traffic jam near Ponte Sant'Angelo caused Cardinal Barbo to be twenty minutes late for the reception. As he walked into the room, he was surprised to see Cardinal Cal-vaux at the far end of the room. At least Barbo would not be the only guest from outside Latin America.

“Your Eminence, thank you for joining us.” Cardinal Alejandro Obregon, the Archbishop of Lima, Peru, hurried over to greet his distinguished guest. “It's not often that we in Latin America have a chance to meet privately with the Vatican secretary of state.”

“Thank you for inviting me, Alejandro.”

Obregon took Barbo's hand and kissed his ring. The tradition of one cardinal reverencing the ring of another was sharply criticized by those in the liberal wing of the Sacred College. Diefenbacher had
given several speeches in which he called the tradition a medieval practice of self-glorification. Therefore, Obregon's public gesture of reverencing Barbo's ring caught everyone by surprise. The Peruvian cardinal was sending a message to his colleagues. It was unclear, however, whether the message was one of respect for Barbo or contempt for Diefenbacher.

“Francesco, come join the discussion. Cardinal Ramera had just begun talking to us about the poor in his diocese. Continue, Ramera!”

“One night, about a month ago, I walked through the streets of Recife. I saw a young boy no more than ten years of age lying in the streets. He was dying from AIDS. I drove the flies away and kissed him. He died in my arms. Madonnas and wooden santos are not what he needed. He needed to be given a chance to live a fully human life. A chance to have a wife and family—a chance to have friends and to laugh and sing.”

Cardinal Chavez, the Primate of Mexico, angrily interrupted Ramera.

“Your Eminence, Jesus said that the poor would always be with us. The Church cannot correct disparities between rich and poor. All we can do is provide the poor with the hope of an afterlife.”

Cardinal Viateste, the Archbishop of Managua, Nicaragua stood when Chavez had finished speaking.

“The Church is all that the poor have. We cannot desert them. If we need to confront the social order to help them out of poverty, then we must do so.”

Cardinal Obregon made a sign of mock horror. “I don't know how to load a gun, Viateste. Short of that, all of us in this room do try to help the poor. Every Sunday in Lima, my staff gives away tons of food and medicine.”

Viateste challenged Obregon. “But the poor come back the next week. In reality, there is no change.”

Chavez was adamant. “In my country, the poor worship Juan Diego and the Madonna of Guadalupe. When I see their faith and devotion, I cry. They believe so devoutly in their God—it gives them hope.”

“I wonder, Chavez, whether Juan Diego and the Virgin would satisfy you if you had no bread for your children.” Viateste stared angrily at Chavez. The room suddenly grew quiet.

Obregon broke the tension by changing the subject. “Gentlemen, in a few days the conclave will open. We must choose Pope Benedict's successor. The fundamental question seems to be, do we look for another pastor like Benedict or an administrator?”

“That is not the right question, Alejandro.” Cardinal Ignacio Munoz of Ecuador spoke from his seat.

“Well, how would you phrase it, Ignacio?”

Muñoz declared loudly. “Do we choose a pope who will decentralize power or one who will keep it in Rome?”

“And how would you answer the question, Ignacio?” Cardinal Barbo smiled at his old friend from curial days.

“Our distinguished guest puts me on the spot. Well, I will answer his question. In Chavez's country, there are Mexican bishops who preach that the story of Guadalupe is merely a myth — that the Virgin never appeared to Juan Diego. Can you imagine a churchman in Mexico calling the central symbol of Mexican Catholicism a myth! But these bishops do it and get away with it. Benedict would not silence them.”

“It's worse than that, Ignacio.” Chavez's face was flushed with anger. “Bishops throughout Latin America openly flaunt Rome on theological matters. Some even intimate that the Eucharist contains the body and blood of Christ only in symbolic form. Bishops like these must be excommunicated if we are to maintain one universal church with one set of beliefs.”

“But, Your Eminence, whether the Virgin appeared to Juan Diego or not is hardly a question of theology or dogma. It's a question of belief.” All eyes turned toward Cardinal Calvaux who stood near the back stairs of the conference room. “We must always uphold the truth. Obviously, a powerful force touched Juan Diego. It changed his life and the life of the Mexican people. In all this debate about whether the Virgin appeared to Juan Diego, we should not lose sight of the fundamental truth. God touched the Mexican people deeply through the story of Juan Diego and the Virgin.”

“But would you vote for a centralist or a decentralist, Jean?”

Calvaux spoke from his heart. “I will look for a pastor. The Holy Father is the spiritual leader of a billion Catholics. Whoever is chosen as Benedict's successor should have the ability to project his care and love to all of the faithful.”

Cardinals Ramera and Viateste nodded in agreement.

“I cannot agree with Cardinal Calvaux, even though we are distant cousins.” Obregon was no longer the gracious host. “The Holy Father has been an inspiration for me and for Catholics everywhere. But he seemed afraid to uphold the Magisterium of Rome. He was too tentative when it came to clamping down on rogue bishops. We need a pope who will reassert the central authority of Rome. Wouldn't you agree, Francesco?”

Barbo smiled. “I will not be drawn into the debate, Alejandro. But I do know that many who were in the conclave that elected Pope Benedict told me they could feel the presence of the Holy Spirit in the Sistine Chapel.”

Chavez nodded. “Francesco is right. I was there. There was a feeling of incandescence in the room — as if the air in the chapel was about to ignite.”

Barbo looked at Obregon. “We must keep our hearts and minds open. The choice of pope is not ours. The Holy Spirit will guide us to the right man.”

Cardinal Obregon could not resist a chuckle. “I see the Cardinal Secretary of State will not be pinned down.”

Cardinal Chavez looked at his watch. “It's after ten o'clock, gentlemen. Tomorrow morning we have Mass and then we meet in General Congregation. I for one need to be rested if the Holy Spirit is to guide me.”