The Accidental Pope (61 page)

The pope shook hands with everyone, including the cynical and always-critical Communist reporter Francisco Ortolani, who saw a conspiracy in just about everything the Vatican ever did. He was the reporter who had brought a great deal of negative publicity to the Catholic Church with his constant exposés on the alleged murder plot of Pope John Paul I and the Vatican Bank controversy. He ridiculed each and every pope as a matter of routine. Now he pushed for an answer to his question, “Why did it take the Church this long to address the concerns of the Africans?”

Pope Peter II smiled almost fondly at the brash Italian. “Seven years ago my predecessor, Pope John Paul II, described Africa as the biblical character who was robbed and beaten to near death, and then was aided by the Good Samaritan. The pope's exact quote was ‘Africa is a continent where countless human beings are lying, as it were, on the edge of the road, sick, injured, disabled, marginalized, and abandoned.' So you see, I am not the first to recognize the African problem. Please, look up the strong efforts and statements from the Vatican in its efforts to point out and materially aid Africa.”

Only slightly chastised, the reporter's sarcastic rejoinder was, “Don't you think that you have taken on a problem that is too big to be solved by one person? Aren't you unrealistic?”

The pope smiled at Francisco, saying, “Maybe this pope is too stupid to know better. But maybe he sees the image and likeness of God in each and every suffering child.”

When the pope returned to the front section of the plane, Motupu asked him how he felt. “I'm still functioning,” Bill declared.

“Don't try to fool me, Bill. Brian called before we left and told me to keep my eye on you. He told me the virus I let you pick up in Africa was getting to you.” Motupu shook his head. “No, he did not blame me directly.”

“Gus, Gus, nobody let me get whatever bug is in my system. I wanted to be part of things. At that moment, that second, that I reached out for the dying boy, I was part of the overall scene. And this affliction is proof I know what I'm talking about.”

“You made a great speech at the UN, Bill, but you don't look good, and you're losing a lot of weight, too. You have to get strong again for the important things God still has for you to do. The future of my black children rests on your shoulders.”

“Not on mine alone, Gus. On ours. And not just your black children, but ours.”

The pope sank back in his seat. “Gus, maybe I'll have one good taste of Jameson. And if you'll do the Rosary with me, I'll close my eyes and think of all the wonderful people I've met like you, and of beautiful, magnificent Africa.”

42

WEDDING

It was now mid-June and Pope Bill, his travel plans at an end, sat down to compose his first encyclical. It would, he knew, also be his last work. He planned to single out the conditions of children and of families, especially in Third World countries, concentrating on Africa, where he had been given a personal look at the prevailing conditions. He realized that things were getting worse. He kept thinking about all the beautiful people reporting the news on TV and of those handsome U.S. millionaire senators in Washington. They sounded and looked so important. Yet in this robust economy so many people were starving on the one hand and others had been making so much money that they hardly knew what to do with it.

Monsignor Tim had arranged to bring together a group of economists, sociologists, doctors, academics, and practicing theologians who had proved themselves as committed to social and economic justice as was the Vatican of Peter II. The pope himself would moderate this in-depth three-day conference and discussion. Some twenty people from throughout the world were invited to participate in the conference, to be held at Castel Gandolfo, the pope's villa outside of Rome.

The media were not allowed access, nor were phone calls permitted, except in an emergency situation. Everyone invited knew the rules in advance, yet surprisingly no one declined the invitation. Even the former surgeon general of the United States as well as a recent Nobel Peace Prize winner canceled other engagements to be present.

Following an eight
A.M.
Mass and breakfast, the group met in a large reception room around a long wooden refectory table. The pope gave the experts his draft encyclical and a written statement, which he then proceeded to discuss with them. He apologized that his research and comments were not fully in print. “I still do everything by hand,” he explained.

Jesuit scholar and historian Pierre LaMonte was amazed by how clear and concise the thirty-page draft document was. “You have developed a great talent, Bill. Maybe you ought to start a memoir.”

“Not a bad idea,” the pope replied. “But it will have to be a short story, I'm afraid.” Nobody laughed. The group had all heard the frequent rumors of the pope's declining health. By nine-fifteen, however, the group was fast at work. Bill had asked everyone to introduce themselves because “it's important we get to know one another and work as a team.” He went on to explain the goals and objectives he was looking for.

One hour later, after the pope finished reading his encyclical, the group applauded his clarity of thought. “He wants another
Rerum Novarum
with a Dorothy Day flair,” said one of the astonished scholars after hearing the pope's dissertation.
Rerum Novarum,
of course, was the famous 1891 encyclical of Pope Leo XIII on social and economic justice, and Dorothy Day had been one of the most important social activists in the history of the American Church.

The three Dominican priest-scholars from the Angelicum and three from the Gregorian University recorded every word on tape and in voluminous notes. The brilliant Father Tom O'Hara of Kings College in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, was asked to chair the prestigious committee. The group stopped only briefly for lunch, and again in the evening for a tasty Italian dinner. This went on for three days and the pope stayed with the group the entire time, with only a few brief absences. They were racing against the clock and they knew it. Everyone realized that they had to put their professional egos aside and work as a team if this definitive encyclical was to have a meaningful and lasting impact. They were working for Peter II's place in history.

When Professor Fred Weiderhold of Munich left Castel Gandolfo, he gave a German reporter who had been camped outside the first official quote from inside. “I was, of course, not present when they drafted the Magna Carta, the U.S. Constitution, or Deuteronomy, but this encyclical made me feel I was in that league.”

Bill Kelly wanted his legacy, reflected through this encyclical, to exert a profound impact on the world's poor and needy. Also, he hoped to set a new moral tone for children and family. The drafters of the document recognized the intent of their work and knew it would get the right media attention. The pope had told the group that he wanted them to feel themselves part of the encyclical. Like the apostles they would be expected to explain and defend it as their own.

“I read
Beyond the Melting Pot
by Nathan Glazer and Daniel Patrick Moynihan and it had a lasting impact on me,” Bill told the gathering. “I hope to raise the consciousness of everyone who reads this document of ours. I'll sign it, but it is a joint effort.”

From the beginning everyone at the conference table knew that the encyclical would dominate the debate and even the news for the next several years. They were anxious to make sure that all the points made were soundly researched and documented. “What an opportunity!” said one of the scholars. “We're probably the only ones to have open and clear access to all the Vatican files and records. The Inquisition, World War II, annulments, excommunications—they're all laid out before us. It's amazing! An interesting strategy Bill here has devised. Even when he is not around to debate the proposal himself, he will have twenty multilingual scholars from around the planet carrying his message, Catholics and non-Catholics alike, who are obviously invested in its success.”

The pope had summoned enormous strength and resiliency in focusing his attention on this three-day meeting and in overseeing drafting the document. Even after the original twenty left Castel Gandolfo, a six-member drafting committee had achieved a sound first draft, ready for review, in just fifteen days. The remarkable thing was that no portion of the draft was leaked to the press. Every participant in the work accomplished behind the walls of Castel Gandolfo respected the pope's plea for confidentiality.

Members of the original committee returned intermittently to meet with the drafters. The closest thing to a news leak was the report that all fifty-three books at the Vatican Library on marriage and annulment had been removed and taken somewhere. The media, always on watch, also observed that two Church historians and scholars of theology and sacred Scriptures from the University of Portugal had spent a few days at the papal villa. They were regarded as the foremost authorities on the appearance of Our Lady of Fatima in 1917. The pope discussed some of the
avviso
's warnings with them.

“At first I read it to mean that aggressor nations will emerge, inflicting great pain on the children and families of the world,” the pope explained. “The language can been interpreted differently by historians and scholars. Some may say the aggressor will emerge along with the rise of religious extremists. Others could interpret it to be countries like North Korea and Iraq, with their developing nuclear power. Others might say the ugly hand of Satan will wreak havoc from within our society in a complete breakdown of values and morals.”

Eyes were opened when the retired Cardinal Casserole, cardinal secretary of state when Pope John Paul II was shot, visited the drafting committee at Castel Gandolfo. He had believed, as did many of the knowledgeable, that Mehmet Ali Agca did not act alone but was directed by the Russian KGB.

Casserole repeated to the pope, in the presence of the framers, the extraordinary story about how the fifteen-year-old daughter of a Vatican employee was kidnapped by KGB agents and offered as ransom for Agca's release from Rebibbia Prison. “William Casey, director of the Central Intelligence Agency, told Pope John Paul II directly, and I heard it with my own ears, that Agca, a professionally trained terrorist and hit man, was paid by Moscow to kill the pope. John Paul II felt it was not in his interest to create a second international situation. It might result in further pain and the killing of thousands of people. He wanted the issue to go away. How would it sound if this universal man of peace had become himself a victim of violence?” the cardinal asked rhetorically.

Vatican observers also believed that there was considerable manipulation of letters of credit and raw currency going on without the pope's knowledge or approval. John Paul II cleaned up much of the mess, but there was a lot more to do before the case was closed. With no public disclosure of its finances, Vatican Bank methods were prone to considerable adverse speculating. This frustrated Bill Kelly, and when he tried to seek out the real answers even he could not get the kind of information he needed.

On one occasion, after waiting five weeks for a list of depositors and how much they had in their accounts, he finally received from Patsy Monassari an eighteenth-century tome about administrative affairs of the worldwide Catholic Church, printed in Italian. Bill was still trying to gather as much information as possible, but the control of Church administrative matters had fallen to this Italian bishop who was closely connected to Secretary of State Robitelli. Bill had never forgotten Ed Kirby's advice when he had returned from Africa: “Let the priests take care of God's business and let lay businessmen and politicians take care of business and political matters.” Good advice, but hard to follow in the convoluted world of the Vatican.

The pope spent most of his time working on the encyclical until July 1, when he left for the United States to attend Ryan's wedding on the Cape.

Colleen had gone back to the U.S. on June 24 to help Paula and Ryan with their wedding preparations. The pope, meanwhile, met with his doctors nearly every day while working on the document that had virtually become his last will and testament. His health continued to deteriorate as he lost weight and appetite. When Bill asked his doctors how much time he had left, Dr. Luigi Biaggio gently answered, “Between one day and one year.”

On the morning of July 1, Bill, Gus Motupu, Tim Shanahan, and Dr. Biaggio arrived at Rome Airport, where they had booked a private commercial plane and headed out over the Alps and the Atlantic to the States. Bill, Tim, and Gus copyedited the third draft of the encyclical virtually the entire time they were airborne. The plane landed at Otis Air Force Base on the Cape, where Bishop Sean Patrick and State Police Trooper Collins met the group and escorted them to the Kellys' home on Buzzards Bay. The press had not been informed, so there were no reporters were at the airport when the plane arrived. There had been some reports that, due to ill health, the pope might not attend his son's wedding.

The
Cape Cod Times
did have an alert photographer staked out at the Kellys' home who was able to shoot a picture of the pope getting out of Bishop Sean Patrick's car and entering the house. After news of the pope's arrival surfaced, the entire area was cordoned off for security reasons. The public could see only cars going along the dirt road to and from the Kelly home.

Gus, Tim, and Dr. Biaggio stayed at a cottage directly beside the Kellys' home that had been rented for the week. U.S. Secret Service agents headed up security in collaboration with the Massachusetts commissioner of public safety.

The entire family warmly greeted Bill and assured him that plans for the wedding were working out perfectly.

“We have more relatives than we ever thought,” said Colleen. “Your so-called cousin from Boston, an Al ‘Chico' Goldofsky, came by and said he needed an invitation to the reception. I told him I never heard Dad mention him before. He said, ‘Unbelievable, we go way back.' I asked him if he had been in the seminary with Bill. ‘Hell no,' he said, ‘I'm Jewish.'” Colleen chuckled. “I didn't know what to do. He was so insistent, so I gave him an invitation. He said something about going up to Boston to get his hairpiece set. He left in a car that looked very official. He scared the daylights out of me when he backed his car out of the driveway with his siren and blue panel lights flashing.”