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Saturday, 14 December 2013

Story Part 15

The Irish have a saying for everything, even death. If you dream that a white bird lands on your chest, you will die. If you rock an empty chair, there will be a death in the family. If you dream about birth, you will die soon. Now, Anabelle was Irish. Her ancestors, the McKenzies were Scottish, who settled in the north of Ireland when Elizabeth I gave the family some land for services done. But, ironically, the entire family converted to Catholicism, under the influence of St. Oliver Plunkett, lost their lands, and moved south. One uncle became a priest and was executed sometime in the long years of tribulation. Anabelle had been proud of a saint in the family. She did not dream of a white bird, or rock an empty chair, or dream of a birth, but she did have odd dreams. She woke up after a long sleep early Holy Saturday morning. But, just before she awoke, she saw the Bishop standing at the end of her bed, smiling, wearing white and blessing her. That was comforting, but another person was standing behind him, and that person came out from behind the white robes of the bishop and smiled as well.

Anabelle woke up, terrified. She did not want to remember who that person was with the Bishop, but she did. She did not want to talk about it.

The young woman dressed quickly and went out into the small living room area of the suite. There, on the sofa, David slept, like a baby. She smiled. He slept on the sofa so that she would not be disturbed. Bless him.

Anabelle looked out the double windows. April beauty mocked her low spirits. She was grateful to be at the old seminary college. Most of the parishes in her area in Arlington were closing down, and masses were hard to find. She had not been to confession in months. Being around so many priests was a blessing, but the days of the seminaries were numbered.

Unlike the monasteries, most of the seminaries had escaped the shut-downs demanded by the end-of-private schooling act, called the DPEA, or the Dispensing of Private Education Act. The seminaries quickly changed status from educational facilities to retreat houses and houses of prayer. They also did not accept any men under the age of 25, which was the top age the educational facility act covered. All Catholics institutions which schooled men or women from pre-school to 25 were not exempt. The monasteries had rebelled, as monks and nuns had been historically accepted from age 18, and in a joint effort had sued the government. All was lost with the decision against the institutions. All the monasteries and convents which trained young men and women were shut down, like all Catholic elementary and high schools. Some colleges had dropped any semblance of relationship with the Church and survived. With some, this had already happened de facto anyway, so the de jure status followed quickly. 

The seminary boards reacted quickly as well, and changed their status, moving, ostensibly out of education into spiritual formation only. At least temporarily, this saved most of the major seminaries in Denver, St. Louis, Chicago, Washington D.C. and New York. The Pontifical College Josephinum had dogged the bullet, for now. But, it was merely called the Josphinum. No pontifical degree would be granted there anymore and the men were sent to Rome.

The grounds, like those in Mundelein, had become a haven for priests hounded out of their own dioceses, or displaced by all the diocesan mergers. Dioceses could not find housing for all the displaced priests, so the old seminaries, now bereft of students, except those over 25, who were only in formation, opened their doors. This had been an order from Pope Francis II. All complied willingly, as the fines and lawsuits prevented any growth or change at this time.

Like Mundelein, Denton, and others, the Josephinum had opened it doors to lay people displaced by the rapid changes. Men and women, who had worked for chancery offices, for many ministries across the United States, and had lost jobs in the upheavals, needed work and lodging. Two of the buildings in the area looked like labor camps, with some families with children working on the grounds, planting crops and transforming the manicured lawns into communal farms. Some people called these new communities, Catholic Brudehofs. And, they were. At Mundelein alone, over 200 families had found shelter. Home schooling was still legal. But, one of the bills on James' desk determined the end of home schooling.

Anabelle had wanted to move into one of these new communities, but David did not want to leave his job. They still could get to mass by traveling to Front Royal every Sunday, as there were two priests there, but in Arlington, only a few priests said Mass, and those were joining the schismatic movement. The young couple shunned those parishes. David was not even sure the Masses were valid, as the priests had no intention of staying with Rome. He remembered the guidelines of Pope Leo XIII.

Anabelle fell so tired. But, she knew she had to face a few days of hardship. The Bishop's  funeral was on Easter Tuesday. The Rector said even though the verdict was suicide, the Church would bless the Bishop, giving the action and the mind of the person at the time the benefit of the doubt. The Bishop would be laid to rest on the grounds with full Catholic rites.

The young woman knew, for sure, the suicide verdict was wrong, wrong, wrong. But, she honestly did not have the energy to discuss this with anyone, not even Father Andrew. Anabelle shuddered.  Anabelle remembered her dream. Father Andrew would be affected if she told him this dream.

To be continued....