03-14-2023, 04:57 AM
From: jaap.beenks@historia.va
To: Valter.Massimo@curia.va
Subject: [encrypted] Thursday's meeting
Valter,
I must confess I have been worried, of late, about our future. For longer than most know, we have stood guard over humanity, protecting them against the terrible monsters we know all too clearly to be real. And being part of Mother Church, working alongside her, has let us carry out this sacred responsibility in ways that otherwise would not be possible.
And yet now, at this most important of times, "the hinge of the Age", I think you called, we face a danger unlike any other. The gods once again walk the earth. We know this. Our dear Father Armande made sure that we never lost sight of that. He gave everything he had to us, even unto death. While we are not the Holy Church and I have not the power to beatify, it cannot be denied that Armande Nicodemus was a Saint in every way possible- in example, in teaching, in his very life.
But- and this pains me, my friend, as he was a mentor to me, a father like I've never had, he was still human. The greatest of the saints were still tainted by fallen flesh. And so it was with him. His singular focus, his solitary vision, was so intense that I do not think he could not see the effect he was having, both within and without.
We do not love our fathers and heroes because they are perfect. We love them because of their character and their devotion to what ought to be.
But what ought to be and what is do not often match. In fact, I have learned, they never do. That was our dear father's mistake. And as hard as it is to admit, the Atharim have nearly fractured. Not broken, not yet. Thank God, not yet. But the cracks are there. The seeds were there before Armande left us. They began long before, in truth. The inevitable collision, perhaps foretold, between a sacred past and the secular present.
The reality of every day for millenia, facing literal, snarling, slavering evil had, I fear, simplified the world for us- and for Father Nicodemus. It had washed out the colors, the grays and silvers, until only black and white remained.
But the world is not black and white. And now, we have- and have had- members who do not easily fit on one side of the line or the other. Who have known these reborn gods and seen them for what they are. Human. Who themselves may be different in some way. And the cognitive dissonance tears at them. It eats away at their faith.
And then, there is the old guard. The stalwarts, those who came before, who still see things as then. I have no illusion for how I must appear to them. And in honesty, I cannot rightly blame them. Had I grown up in the world they did, instead of the one I have, I would feel the same.
They are not my enemies.
And if it were simply the growing rift among us, I would hold more hope than I have. But of course it is not just among us. The gods really do walk the earth. And while they are not all monsters, they are formidable. The Ascendancy- himself the embodiment of everything we have feared- has made us his target. His feelings are perhaps understandable. There is much to his story that we have only recently come to know- a thing I will tell you another time.
But the world is changed. And yhe Holy Father cannot simply guarantee our existence by papal bull, enforceable by threat of excommunication.
No, as ancient as we are, as powerful as we are, the numbers are against us. Our influence can get us far. But even should we survive, we would be decimated. And humanity would lose her sword arm.
I have been given this mantle. I confess that I feel overwhelmed at what we face. But at our meeting tonight, your words breathed hope into me. I do believe we can right this ship. We can carry the best of ourselves forward, honoring our forebears, including father Armande Nicodemus, while we still find a way to exist in this new world.
I look forward to working with you further to chart our course. It seems to me that while I question God's placing me here in this position, I do not for a second doubt that you are a here for a reason.
Much admiration,
Your humble servant,
Jaap Beenks
To: Valter.Massimo@curia.va
Subject: [encrypted] Thursday's meeting
Valter,
I must confess I have been worried, of late, about our future. For longer than most know, we have stood guard over humanity, protecting them against the terrible monsters we know all too clearly to be real. And being part of Mother Church, working alongside her, has let us carry out this sacred responsibility in ways that otherwise would not be possible.
And yet now, at this most important of times, "the hinge of the Age", I think you called, we face a danger unlike any other. The gods once again walk the earth. We know this. Our dear Father Armande made sure that we never lost sight of that. He gave everything he had to us, even unto death. While we are not the Holy Church and I have not the power to beatify, it cannot be denied that Armande Nicodemus was a Saint in every way possible- in example, in teaching, in his very life.
But- and this pains me, my friend, as he was a mentor to me, a father like I've never had, he was still human. The greatest of the saints were still tainted by fallen flesh. And so it was with him. His singular focus, his solitary vision, was so intense that I do not think he could not see the effect he was having, both within and without.
We do not love our fathers and heroes because they are perfect. We love them because of their character and their devotion to what ought to be.
But what ought to be and what is do not often match. In fact, I have learned, they never do. That was our dear father's mistake. And as hard as it is to admit, the Atharim have nearly fractured. Not broken, not yet. Thank God, not yet. But the cracks are there. The seeds were there before Armande left us. They began long before, in truth. The inevitable collision, perhaps foretold, between a sacred past and the secular present.
The reality of every day for millenia, facing literal, snarling, slavering evil had, I fear, simplified the world for us- and for Father Nicodemus. It had washed out the colors, the grays and silvers, until only black and white remained.
But the world is not black and white. And now, we have- and have had- members who do not easily fit on one side of the line or the other. Who have known these reborn gods and seen them for what they are. Human. Who themselves may be different in some way. And the cognitive dissonance tears at them. It eats away at their faith.
And then, there is the old guard. The stalwarts, those who came before, who still see things as then. I have no illusion for how I must appear to them. And in honesty, I cannot rightly blame them. Had I grown up in the world they did, instead of the one I have, I would feel the same.
They are not my enemies.
And if it were simply the growing rift among us, I would hold more hope than I have. But of course it is not just among us. The gods really do walk the earth. And while they are not all monsters, they are formidable. The Ascendancy- himself the embodiment of everything we have feared- has made us his target. His feelings are perhaps understandable. There is much to his story that we have only recently come to know- a thing I will tell you another time.
But the world is changed. And yhe Holy Father cannot simply guarantee our existence by papal bull, enforceable by threat of excommunication.
No, as ancient as we are, as powerful as we are, the numbers are against us. Our influence can get us far. But even should we survive, we would be decimated. And humanity would lose her sword arm.
I have been given this mantle. I confess that I feel overwhelmed at what we face. But at our meeting tonight, your words breathed hope into me. I do believe we can right this ship. We can carry the best of ourselves forward, honoring our forebears, including father Armande Nicodemus, while we still find a way to exist in this new world.
I look forward to working with you further to chart our course. It seems to me that while I question God's placing me here in this position, I do not for a second doubt that you are a here for a reason.
Much admiration,
Your humble servant,
Jaap Beenks