Haha.. you’ve all noticed Bene being horribly busy lately.
Well, with a little luck, God willing, it’ll all be done soon.. I will confess, I will be happy to have a lot of answers to these questions.
If it goes as planned, people will fall, plans may be dashed, and you might get a little fire by the end. <3 I know how much ya’ll like the fires.
I can remember my ordination day.
I remember the Cathedral, bright, full of life. I remember how I stood there in the rectory and looked in the mirror, rubbing my hands over those rough robes, brown. Behind me, in the dim light, I could see laying on my bed, the new robes. An immaculate white with a small black skullcap perched upon them. I sat down and looked at them, upon them was a slip of paper written in the same familiar script of an old friend, a confessor:
“Piuso,
I know, you’ve been through a lot in the past months, but know we’re all here proud of you. Regardless of your choice, you’ll amount to much, Brother, don’t be afraid to make the right one. Only the Lord has the wisdom to see what lies ahead, but if you ask, He’ll answer. You just have to know the right question.
All the best,
Fr. Francis ab Petrum”
I read over the letter a few times, it was short enough, simple and plain. But it meant the world to me. The other day, I’d made my confession to the man, I’d confided in him that I had doubts, I wasn’t sure if I could take the vows when it came to it. I just wasn’t sure and how could I be? We’d been warned always that those not called to the Priesthood would make utter failure, that only the chosen had the graces to carry it out. I just didn’t know.. but here I was, in an hour, I’d have to make my choice.
So, I stood up and I slipped on the robes, the white garment of the priest. It fell about my ankles and enveloped my body, it seemed.. foreign, bright and I looked to the mirror. Looking back at me was the man who had always looked back in my dreams. The loyal Priest, the good man. He was calm, content though seeming also cool at times, like the stone of an ancient church or the hard wooden surface of an altar. A pious, reverent self whose soul was pointed straight to Heaven and mind hardly lingering on the things of this time. Yet, there was a tenderness to it, a hope. The robes came off. Pacing, pacing.. Finally, I dared to entertain a dream, a question. I didn’t know if I wanted this answer, what it would mean, but I had to have it. Quietly, I found the box in my closet, a small wooden coffer filled with a few clothes I had smuggled in. Simple, plain clothes, but the clothes of a layman. I had not dared put them on, but I’d kept them, just in case.
The man the looked back at me now was not what I’d expected. He was young, full of enthusiasm and potential. He had a future, a lover, a family to be had, a life to live. He seemed happy.. yet, somehow, as I looked at him, he seemed foreign. The eyes that looked back at me, though on the surface warm and full of life had something stirring in their depths, a regret, though deeply hidden. I could not describe it, but he seemed sad somehow, cheated, as if his life, though amounting to much, would truly amount to nothing. I looked at him for a long time, watching, thinking. Finally, I had my answer.
I knelt before the bishop that day. I made my vows to serve my God and His Church with my all. My nose touched the cold stone floor as I made my final supplication to the altar, my final reverence to that place at which I would come to serve and I shed a tear. I left that man, there are the altar, that man who could have been and inside, I laughed for somehow, I’d done it. I’d made the choice and though I still felt the stirrings of doubt, I somehow did not. It was but anxiety and it slipped away in time. Ben Piuso, the laymen who could have been, the Reeve or courtier, slipped away, receding int myself in favor of Father Piuso, Priest of the Lord.
Ben Piuso would occupy my thoughts from time to time. He was a deep part of myself, buried beneath the robes of office, an old faded promise of what could have been. I wondered where he would have gone, what he would be doing now. Yet, he was gone.. he was but a faint dream from the past, a lingering half memory. Soon, the reality was Bishop Piuso and then Cardinal Piuso. But then, suddenly, so many years past that fateful day, Ben Piuso quietly entered back into existence. He was there, suddenly, for a moment, there so much he seemed almost real, as if I were to look down at these myself and see not crimson robes but the normal greys, blacks, browns of a simple man’s clothing and no Cardinal’s ring upon my finger, but perhaps a wedding band. He’s come to linger with me lately, whispering the words of a future lost to a weary man’s ears. Yet, through it all, I think back. I think back to the floor, my nose in the dust. I think back to Ben’s eyes. I think back to the soft touch of the ordination blessing, through which God Himself seemed to have touch my soul. I remember the altar. I remember and I know..
These hours have been a blur, as if the world has passed me by in an instant. Yet, each second seems like an eternity now.. and my face is beginning to show it. I sit on this Cathedra, wear the robes, and look out upon so many faces everyday. I’ve seen demons, I’ve seen mages, I’ve looked sin in the face and defeated it time and time again. Yet, no day has been so hard as today.
And to think it began with something so innocent, morning prayer, time with the Acolytes, Synod work, Synod work, Synod work.. and then I was off for the little bit of rest I deserved, a chance to masquerade as someone else if only for a moment. And yet, there I was, faced with that conflict which has rent me so much of late.. there I was, again dancing on a dream. And we shared that one moment, that brief second in time..
And even as I drew that breath, even as I slipped away, anguished, confused.. I felt oddly pleasant as if, somehow, somewhere, life would resolve itself. The Lord would console me. Somehow, it would work for the best, somehow..
My soul is heavy and I’ve seen pain. I knew not how much it would hurt to see you there. Yet, I had to. God, You know how much I hate that place.
And here I am. All the conflicts of this life, of this office, seem now to come crashing down. The Cathedral itself offers no solace now. I kneel at the altar and for a moment, I feel safe.. but it passes, I must venture out. Oh, how life can go from a stable structure to broken ruins so quickly.
God shall save you, He’ll keep your soul and renew it.. no matter what comes.
Yet, I cannot know if He’ll give me the same. I pray He does.
O Lord, why do I feel so alone? Are You not here?
I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar’s chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
…
And you can have it all,
My empire of dirt,
I will let you down,
I will make you hurt.
If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way.
Its cold in the Cathedral at night.
Very cold.
The stain glass windows, once bright and alive with the dancing sunlight, have gone dark
and silent.
And yet, here I am.
I kneel at the icy stone rail
Before me, lit by the flickering specters of its candles
Is the altar
The altar I swore to serve upon
And vowed to uphold.
Its all that’s in view now
Even the chalice above it is shrouded
And behind me are even darker shadows
They seem all the more sinister now
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
In my heart a fire burns
But what is its fuel?
And does it provide warmth?
O Lord, what am I doing?
A fulfilling vocation, the Priesthood. The Lord has chosen for himself men and women from across the realm. It seems difficult for some, the celibacy. However, they fail to see, the love that they show for their spouse, for their children, it is the Lord’s will for some that it expand and encompass all peoples by His grace. It is a happy life, one that is full of endless reward. Some may look down on it because of celibacy, but truly, its so much more… The celibacy is there to ensure that we can love as we are able. And from it, we find freedom and joy. I – I know what it can feel like to be in love.. However, for those of us who have been chosen, there is little place for us but at the altar. And at the end of the day, despite what I may feel, I know its true for me… and I believe that its true for you. And I tell myself a prayer which has echoed in my heart since my earliest days: “I shall go to the Altar of Dav..”
Hearing that, I feel comforted and warm, as if in the arms of a kind father. I know I’ve made the right choice, despite what heartache I may feel at times. I know that despite what may come, even martyrdom, I shall have walked down the right path. In the darkness, prayer has been my light and before me I’ve kept always the image of a God so great. No matter what comes, I shall run into His arms as I’ve so desired. As the sun sets, there is no doubt, there is no fear. Only Love and its Origin.
So, who exactly inspired Bene? A valid question which is best answered with: a lot of people. I’ll hit on some highlights here!
Cardinal Timothy Dolan, Archbishop of New York
Probably one of the most recent examples of someone I’ve drawn influence from in playing Bene. He reflects a lot of similar pastoral practices: the jovial manner, spending time out of the Cathedral and amongst the people, quiet happy orthodoxy.
Pope St. Pius X
One of the most famous Pope-Saints of recentish history, he reflects a lot on Bene as Cardinal. As one who had the office sort of thrust upon him, but he executes it willingly nonetheless. Also, I’ll confess I half stole the Synod story from this man’s Conclave.
The Blessed Pope John Paul II
Tied with Archbishop Dolan for the biggest influence on Bene’s character. I’d like to think the two are quite a like (half since JPII is one of my personal, biggest heroes!) However, that’s likely almost too much to ask. This Pontiff was one of the longest reigning, a world statesman, and the model priest (at least in my mind).
One side of love arises from the darker depths of the heart. It pines and spits, seeking after lusts and desires it cannot obtain. This ‘love’ lowers man. It drives us to kill, to hate, to destroy. Like fire’s own dark side, it consumes and devours, leaving not but charred remains in its wake. This is the ‘love’ which has started wars. This is the ‘love’ which has shed blood, which has whispered lies in the night and secretly slit the throats of many a man’s character. This ‘love’ is man’s darkest sin: a vile abomination of pride and unbridled lust. Should we remain in it, we have not to hope for but an eternity in death and pain.
But what of love’s other side? What of Love? For this, converse to its shadow brother, is not man’s greatest sin but man’s highest virtue. It is in Love that we find mercy, compassion, charity, joy, life. Love unites, Love creates. This Love proceeds from the Lord of the Springs, indeed, the very waters of grace of which we so oft speak is in fact this Love. This is the Love invested and given to the Church to guard and govern. This is the Love that saves us, the Love that breaks the bonds of sin and sets man free. Love is the greatest thing that we can ever hope for. Indeed, the clergy are not only asked to Love, but fundamentally obligated to. For the cloth shall amount to not unless it is sown from the threads of Love. It is in Love that the Priest finds his celibacy, the purity that allows his Love to transcend, making the Church his spouse and the laity, his dearest children. This Love is the fire that comforts. The warmth that burns in the hearth of home where families are united, friends share their joy, and before which holy life is lived out. We must remain in it if we ever hope for anything good in this life or the next.
