01-31-2020, 11:56 PM
Vatican City, ~5 years ago
A month into his Papacy, and Patricus I continued to familiarize himself with the upper church culture. The organizational structure was known to anyone with a desire to read about it – seminary required an entire class on the subject – but learning about and living the life were different experiences. It was said that the Holy Father was part spiritual guide and part CEO; a tongue and cheek analogy that Philip came to appreciate. He was currently hard at work in the Papal office, reviewing updates from every numerous divisions of the church administration. This was a larger scale, certainly, then what Philip experienced as a Bishop. As Bishop of Baltimore, the diocese was quite large, and Philip presided over a number of auxileries and vicars, each with their own deanery or governance. Upon his appointment as Archbishop of the same, he was more or less removed from the daily administrative affairs, something that upon reflection, he was quite saddened to abandon. However, it seemed that God planned this sabbatical from the mundane in order to orient his spirit for what was to come. Which was why he found it odd, as his mind filed through proposals in Canon Law, financial documents, and other lay functions, that he was somewhat reinvigorated by what others may find to be menial. The Holy Father should be oriented upon God only, himself last, and the church somewhere in between. Perhaps this was Philip’s connection to the humble parishioners of the world, even if only through paperwork. It wasn’t his place to intervene in the workings of the hundreds of dioceses; nor did he desire to.
The vacancy left by his predecessor’s death, Holy Mother bless him, halted the entire church. It had taken Philip a month of 18-hour days to catch up. When his staff suggested he sleep more, he would smile and thank them for their concern, but that an advantage of his youth was the vigor of a long workday. Of course, he knew for certain that he was not as young as he once was, but as far as the Holy See was concerned, Patricus I was the youngest pope in history. He intended to devote every moment of himself to God and divine responsibilities.
As was the function of such a diligent schedule, Philip reviewed the itinerary for the day’s meetings. Following this review of administrative affairs and other activities typically concerning the Secretariat of State, he would meet personally with a number of individuals until the sweep of night brushed the sky. It was then that he would devote himself to writing, study, prayer and penance.
Custody officials were on a daily agenda it seemed. Well, that was why he was supposedly elected, or so he was told the first day of his Papacy. Patricus I was swift to provide fatherly correction. The parade continued to this day. As Philip leaned into his seat, his gaze lowered to tense concentration. Across the wide expanse of an otherwise empty room, two staff clergy, priests, exchanged worried glances.
When Philip looked up, he quietly decreed, “No more meetings with Custody officials. Ever.”
“That’s impossible, Your Holiness,” another voice replied. It was the Cardinal Secretary of State. Some said that the man occupying the doorway was frontrunner for Philip’s seat until the sudden, inexplicable election supplanted him.
Philip’s head tilted with patient curiosity. The Secretary continued, “Your Holiness comes from a land far from the Custody. Here, we are nestled in their shirt pocket. Your Holiness must continue negotiations before they—”
Philip lifted a finger and the Secretary promptly paused his speech.
He stood with one gentle, sweeping motion. His hands clasped into a soft fold, “I do not come from a land far from the world’s greatest power,” he corrected. The Secretariat appeared confused. Philip assumed he was speaking about the United States. “The Holy Father comes from the seat of God’s throne. Nobody is closest to the mightiest of all powers than the Holy Father.” He turned and looked the Secretariat in the eye, “And I am the Holy Father,” he said, holding out his hand, Papal ring glinting in the afternoon sunlight.
***
With the freed afternoon, an unexpected opportunity arose. He was meeting with a layman administrator, one who served the church as the head of the Vatican archives. The man was relatively unknown by most except by respectable reputation. Truth be told, Philip was relatively intrigued.
A month into his Papacy, and Patricus I continued to familiarize himself with the upper church culture. The organizational structure was known to anyone with a desire to read about it – seminary required an entire class on the subject – but learning about and living the life were different experiences. It was said that the Holy Father was part spiritual guide and part CEO; a tongue and cheek analogy that Philip came to appreciate. He was currently hard at work in the Papal office, reviewing updates from every numerous divisions of the church administration. This was a larger scale, certainly, then what Philip experienced as a Bishop. As Bishop of Baltimore, the diocese was quite large, and Philip presided over a number of auxileries and vicars, each with their own deanery or governance. Upon his appointment as Archbishop of the same, he was more or less removed from the daily administrative affairs, something that upon reflection, he was quite saddened to abandon. However, it seemed that God planned this sabbatical from the mundane in order to orient his spirit for what was to come. Which was why he found it odd, as his mind filed through proposals in Canon Law, financial documents, and other lay functions, that he was somewhat reinvigorated by what others may find to be menial. The Holy Father should be oriented upon God only, himself last, and the church somewhere in between. Perhaps this was Philip’s connection to the humble parishioners of the world, even if only through paperwork. It wasn’t his place to intervene in the workings of the hundreds of dioceses; nor did he desire to.
The vacancy left by his predecessor’s death, Holy Mother bless him, halted the entire church. It had taken Philip a month of 18-hour days to catch up. When his staff suggested he sleep more, he would smile and thank them for their concern, but that an advantage of his youth was the vigor of a long workday. Of course, he knew for certain that he was not as young as he once was, but as far as the Holy See was concerned, Patricus I was the youngest pope in history. He intended to devote every moment of himself to God and divine responsibilities.
As was the function of such a diligent schedule, Philip reviewed the itinerary for the day’s meetings. Following this review of administrative affairs and other activities typically concerning the Secretariat of State, he would meet personally with a number of individuals until the sweep of night brushed the sky. It was then that he would devote himself to writing, study, prayer and penance.
Custody officials were on a daily agenda it seemed. Well, that was why he was supposedly elected, or so he was told the first day of his Papacy. Patricus I was swift to provide fatherly correction. The parade continued to this day. As Philip leaned into his seat, his gaze lowered to tense concentration. Across the wide expanse of an otherwise empty room, two staff clergy, priests, exchanged worried glances.
When Philip looked up, he quietly decreed, “No more meetings with Custody officials. Ever.”
“That’s impossible, Your Holiness,” another voice replied. It was the Cardinal Secretary of State. Some said that the man occupying the doorway was frontrunner for Philip’s seat until the sudden, inexplicable election supplanted him.
Philip’s head tilted with patient curiosity. The Secretary continued, “Your Holiness comes from a land far from the Custody. Here, we are nestled in their shirt pocket. Your Holiness must continue negotiations before they—”
Philip lifted a finger and the Secretary promptly paused his speech.
He stood with one gentle, sweeping motion. His hands clasped into a soft fold, “I do not come from a land far from the world’s greatest power,” he corrected. The Secretariat appeared confused. Philip assumed he was speaking about the United States. “The Holy Father comes from the seat of God’s throne. Nobody is closest to the mightiest of all powers than the Holy Father.” He turned and looked the Secretariat in the eye, “And I am the Holy Father,” he said, holding out his hand, Papal ring glinting in the afternoon sunlight.
***
With the freed afternoon, an unexpected opportunity arose. He was meeting with a layman administrator, one who served the church as the head of the Vatican archives. The man was relatively unknown by most except by respectable reputation. Truth be told, Philip was relatively intrigued.