Love and Duty

Love and Duty

December 23^rd, 1969

Paris

With a heavy heart, Friederich descended the stairs of the large and elegant Art Nouveau building located at Avenue d'Iéna and turned around to look once more at the tall windows of the third floor. 'It's only for this week,' he thought and walked back to the hotel where he would be staying for the time being as he didn't want to leave Konrad alone in the city.

Back in his hotel room, he loosened his tie and removed his jacket to be more comfortable, hoping that reading a book would help him to forget the face of total desolation the boy had shown at seeing his mother and her new baby, Charles—the infant cuddled and well-loved. For her part, Marianne had simply said, “Ah, you're here. Go with the nanny.”

Once they were alone, Friederich couldn't refrain himself anymore and had said, lacing his voice with all the venom he could muster, “I see Madame has found herself a new position with Monsieur Fabourg. Congratulations.”

Marianne had only looked at him and smiled wickedly. “I understand Konrad is doing much better now. Perhaps he will be considered for the position he was created for or perhaps not. Maybe a new evaluation should be done on him.”

“One he will pass without any doubt, madam.”

“You are very certain of your own position, Tutor.”

“I only obey our Lord's commands.”

“Really? I hear the Jesuits are not regarded with as much favour as in the past. Revolting as usual. Perhaps it is time to get rid of them all once again. There are many talks in our circles about it. People also talk about my former husband, you and the real causes behind our divorce, Mr. Elsässer, and of his failure to find a new fiancée.”

“It must be a great source of comfort for you, madam, that people don't know your real face,” the young man had answered stiffly. “Enjoy it while you can. Masks eventually fall, and age only shows better our faults and flaws. I will return for Konrad on the 30^th so he can spend a pleasant Silvester with his father.”

Friederich now regretted his outburst and display of pride, an attitude completely against all what he had been taught at the seminar. 'Why do I let my blood boil every time I see her? I should have known better.' As he should have expected, the chosen book didn't quench his anxiety, and soon it was abandoned over a coffee table.

'What if it is true and His Holiness' patience with Arrupe is wearing thin? The last moves of the Company in Latin America border on heresy. Although, it's not as if there is something I could say or do about it.

'And what if she is right and people are talking about us? We have done nothing against our Lord but dirty minds restlessly like to imagine things. There is nothing wrong in that we share the bed now and then. We are like brothers!

'Karl Heinz needed to feel close to someone after his son died. There is nothing remotely sexual between us! He only sought comfort in my companionship, nothing else. Marianne's accusations, their divorce and Konrad's silence have been a great test for him. I only wanted to soothe his pain.'

Very tired, frustrated and concerned about his pupil's well-being at his mother's house, Friederich leaned against the back of his chair. 'Please Lord, be with him,' he prayed silently. 'He's just a child.'

Eventually, a knocking sound forced him to stand up, and he opened the door to find the Duke standing there. It surprised him as Karl Heinz was supposed to be at one of the Council’s final meetings of the year at the George V.

“Are you busy, Friederich? The Council and I would like to have a word with you.”

“Yes, of course,” Friederich answered and turned around to fetch his jacket, overcoat and hat.

“It's not necessary. We are in one of the meeting rooms here.”

“I thought they were satisfied with Konrad's evaluation,” Friederich said alarmed as he dressed with his jacket and readjusted his tie. “Has Marianne...?”

“No, no. She was poisoning some of the members' minds, but zu Löwenstein shut them up. They want to speak with you as your loyalty to us should be unquestionable,” Karl Heinz warned him, and Friederich looked at him astonished. “I have no doubts about you, my brother, but the others need to be reassured.”

“I understand,” answered Friederich and followed the Duke to one of the lower floors. Inside the wooden-panelled room, seven men sat along a large oval table. They stood up when Karl Heinz entered and waited for him to take his place at the head before doing the same. With a simple nod, the Duke indicated Friederich where he should sit, and he obeyed.

“Your work with the young Griffin is certainly laudable, Mr. Elsässer,” St. Claude started the interrogation without any preambles. “From what we have seen, Konrad shows great promise.”

“Thank you, sir. He has a very serious mind.”

“Yes, indeed,” Gustav zu Löwenstein added. “All of us deem his abilities to be far beyond his age. Nevertheless, there is another matter that concerns us.”

Friederich only looked at them and remained silent, driving the men nervous with his calm demeanour, unaffected by their silent pressure over him.

“There is some unrest among the Roman Curia,” started Mladic Pavicevic, the military leader—the Summus Marescalus—of the Order. “I'm not a man of words, so I will explain you our concerns with honesty, and I trust to receive the same from you, Mr. Elsässer.

“The Jesuits seem to have forgotten once more whom they answer to. The Holy Father, in his benevolence, has still not called them to heel, but our attention has been brought to several internal memorandums—focused on the Company's activities in Central America, namely Nicaragua—where several priests support and are part of a Marxist-Stalinist guerilla group that is gaining more and more popular support.”

“The Father General is the person designed to make a decision on this matter,” Friederich answered curtly, pressing his lips in a thin line.

“Your Superiors don't seem to be in a hurry to change what is transpiring in Latin America. I find this concept of replacing the Church as we know it with ‘base communities’ a very dangerous and heretic one,” zu Löwenstein affirmed. “What will come next? Having ordinary people administer the Sacraments?”

“It wouldn't be the first time the Jesuits play their own games,” St. Claude supported him.

“I understand there are other congregations like the Maryknoll or the Trappist who share a similar view against the many iniquities the local populations suffer,” Friederich said very softly. “The Jesuits' mission is to ease their pain and prepare them to receive our Lord.”

“Do you support the view that Jesus is an armed revolutionary, determined to go against the United States or Capitalism?” Mladic Pavicevic blurted out. “The Medellin Conference was very clear about this new... concept. How do you call it? Liberation Theology? Liberation from what? America, the Great Satan?”

“The Company did not organise this meeting. Jesuits were part of it, but they were not the main organisers,” Friederich mildly defended his brothers, although he was growing more and more concerned about the Company's involvement with the Sandinista guerillas in Nicaragua.

“I seem to recall the name of Jesuit Alvaro Argüello among those who drafted the final document of that Conference,” zu Löwenstein snorted. “Armed violence, as they suggest, is not his Holiness's idea of what the role of the Church should be, nor the way to lead our fight against Marxism.”

“I do not support violence under any circumstance,” Friederich answered fixing his eyes upon the Summus Marescalus. “I have always made very clear my view on this, gentlemen.”

“Do you prefer the People's Church over the Church?”

“I did not say that. My allegiance is to the Roman Catholic Church,” Friederich answered back with an unknown energy.

“But your Order's loyalties are divided to say the least. What about those documents recently issued in which the Company proposes to lift the ban on homosexuality and marriage for the priests?”

“Those were articles published on a personal basis; their authors do not speak for the Company.”

“Do you agree with them?”

“Our Lord has clearly shown us the way,” answered Friederich.

“What a diplomatic answer!” Pavicevic smirked. “There is no such thing as ‘personal views’ within the Company. Everything must be approved by the Father General. Just answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’, sir.”

Friederich glanced for a second at the Duke, but he didn't return his gaze and his face showed no expression at all. “No, I do not. We swore to defend and obey the Papacy. Rome has a clear and sound policy on this, and it was not changed by Council Vatican II,” he said. “Perhaps some of us show too much enthusiasm and dedication to the Church modernization process,” he whispered.

“Understand us well, Friederich.” Hermann von Lintorff intoned the words with great care. “We do not disagree with the Council Vatican II conclusions, but we feel that the Company is stretching the limits of the Pope's good will. The reports on their activities since 1965 are forcing us to make this decision. This mixture of Marxism and Catholicism is not good, and our Order will not support it.”

“I do not follow you quite well.”

“My wife has spoken well of you, and I've seen what you have been teaching our son. We see no intellectual deviations in your actions and writings, but you must also make a decision today,” Herman stated.

“We have decided to withdraw all our support from the Company,” the Duke said firmly. “As you can understand, Friederich, we cannot have one of its members as Tutor. Nevertheless, we can accept the fact that you are on a leave of absence from the Seminar, hence your contact with your superiors is limited.”

For a brief instant, Friederich looked very hurt at Karl Heinz, but the Duke’s blue eyes showed nothing at all. “Once, I promised to do anything that was in my power to get your son to become a good leader. What do you require from me, sire?”

“Resign to the Company and continue with your duties as Tutor, or go away.”

Friederich looked at the faces around the table and knew he could either accept it or lose Konrad forever. The image of the boy crying the night before because he had to go to his mother's house and spend Christmas there came to his mind’s eyes.

“I have pledged my loyalty to my Hochmeister and his councillors,” he said very slowly. “I also took the vows of poverty, chastity, obedience and to pursue my vocation till its final completion. I renounced to my worldly life for my Lord's glory, and this sacrifice was compensated a thousand times over with the joys of a life in contemplation. I cannot deny any longer that I don't feel comfortable with my brothers' ideals, therefore I will step down from the Company but will continue to live under the vows I took with the Lord as my witness.”

Karl Heinz closed his eyes and fought to hide the wave of relief that washed over him after hearing those words.

“This is your resignation letter, Friederich,” zu Löwenstein extended a several pages document. “Someone will give a copy to the Father General. Our displeasure should be well known, and perhaps the Jesuits will return to the fold.”

“Politics and religion should never be mixed. We cannot serve two Caesars, Mr. Elsässer,” Pavicevic added. “Believe me, there is nothing Christian in the way the Soviets squashed the revolts in Hungary and Czechoslovakia.”

“We are very pleased with your teaching,” Hermann said, “but our Order serves the Pope as he is the Vicar of Christ on earth.”

“I will copy your letter, Magnus Comendator, and I thank you for your advice,” Friederich said with great difficulty, and rose from his chair feeling many years older.

“Our business with the Tutor is finished, but I request that he stays with us for the time being,” St. Claude said. “This also concerns him.”

“Yes, I think so,” Karl Heinz agreed. “Sit down, Friederich.”

The young man regained his seat and mechanically ordered the papers left in front of him and placed them in the provided folder.

“I believe there is nothing else to discuss. We voted and she is out,” Pavicevic said coldly, continuing with the discussion. “This is just a waste of our time.”

“I still would like to hear the Tutor's considerations on the matter,” Karl Heinz retorted.

“I also. This is a sensitive and personal issue,” St. Claude said. “Mr. Elsässer, what is your opinion of the Lady Consort as mother?”

“She was very dedicated to her first born,” Friederich spoke the words with great difficulty. “She still grieves him very much. We all do.”

“She has remarried and has a new offspring.” St. Claude pointed out. “She is not precisely fulfilling her duties as Consort.”

“She is the mother of the future Griffin,” Friederich pointed out.

“Yes, that's the point. I don't remember Marianne to be very dedicated to her living son.”

“Karl Maria was very much in need of her love and attentions,” Friederich retorted to St. Claude.

“Yes, we understand that, but has her attitude towards the next Griffin improved?”

“Tell the truth, Friederich,” Karl Heinz intervened, watching Friederich's slightly upset expression.

“You must understand she is a hurt woman,” Friederich preferred to say instead. “Her modern views have been of great help in the Council.”

“As I said, it's useless to continue to keep her and we should name a new Lord Consort,” Pavicevic finished Friederich's feeble defence as the other men around the table nodded. “One who has a broader outlook and truly supports our views and goals.”

“If Marianne von Liechenstein is dismissed, her position should not be occupied. Her family is very powerful and on our side,” Friederich said with a clear voice, and Karl Heinz nodded vigorously.

“The failure of my marriage should not interfere with the Order's best interests.”

“We, the Council, decide over the Order's best interests,” Hermann retorted aggressively. “Losing her House could be easily compensated with new associates. And I don't even think they would go away at all. Friederich, this is an opportunity you should not dismiss so quickly.”

“I do not seek earthly compensations for my services to the Order,” the youth said. “My family has been part of it only after the Napoleonic Wars. We are newcomers, and this fact could irk the other families who have been with us since the beginning.”

“Or defending our Church long before the Order existed,” de Lisle spoke with a grave voice from his corner. “I agree with you, Mr. Elsässer.”

“Thank you, Vicomte,” Friederich said softly, knowing that the best strategy with him was to keep a very low profile. The de Lisle family had been at odds with the Lintorffs since before the Great War, and their fortune and connections were large enough as to put Karl Heinz in a dire situation if they were to choose to escalate the strength of their demands to increase their power inside the Order. 'We represent France. We were defending the Church long before the Order was created. We must be treated accordingly,' was the Viscount's motto. “That is my point, sir,” continued Friederich. “There are bloodlines here present, older than my own, who have proven their loyalty and worthiness in many occasions throughout our history.”

“In that case, we will not name another Consort. The Council will remain as it is now,” Karl Heinz said quickly before de Lisle would suggest he got the position. ‘“Head of France” is enough for him. I can keep him out as I control four out of seven votes.’ “Thank you, Friederich,” he dismissed his friend. “We will vote other issues now.”

* * *

His red eyes were fixed on the pages he had just read. The Order's position on Marxism and Communism was clearly established and left no doubts of what was be expected of the Jesuits. 'Zu Löwenstein is a clever lawyer of the Rota indeed,' he thought as his hand slid up and down through the typed letter. 'And I thought the Order was not to be known outside its members.

'Clearly the Company knows about them—us, as there is no way to understand this letter without knowing of our existence. Probably we were even funding many of their enterprises.'

He rose from the small desk in his hotel room and went to his bag to retrieve the leather folder where he kept his stationary. The vision of his family’s coat of arms along with his full name and titles written in the cream set of papers stabbed his heart. 'I cannot be this person any longer, but neither can I become who I wanted to be.

'If I go away, who will look after Konrad? Who will be with him when he cries for his brother?

'Nobody.'

“Our Lord Jesus is within each child,” the words his mother had told him so many years ago flashed through his mind, and he sighed. 'Being a Jesuit is only a way to show my own intellectual vanity. I can serve Jesus in many other ways, and my faith will show them to me.'

He unscrewed the cap of his fountain pen and slowly organised the wade of papers lying in front of him. Zu Löwenstein's words were fresh on his mind, and he began to write them down on his own sheets with a heavy heart, only sporadically looking at the original to be absolutely sure of a formulation or a quote.

Darkness fell like a shroud over the hotel, and Friederich's gaze became lost among the leaves of the sycamore trees overlooking his window. The lights on the street and on the buildings in front of him brought him no comfort as he signed the first copy of his letter. Without bothering to reread it, he started the second copy, this time striving for his handwriting to be as perfect as possible as this one would be for the Father General’s hands.

The insistent knocking on his door went almost unheard, and only the low voice of Karl Heinz saying his name brought him back to reality. He hurried to open the door and let him enter.

“Are you all right?” the Duke asked with a frown.

“Yes, I just lost track of time writing. Did I keep you waiting for long?”

“No, it's all right. We are finished, and I wanted to see if you would like to have dinner with me.”

“I should finish these letters,” Friederich preferred to excuse himself.

“It's not so urgent. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve.”

“Yes, but I agree with the Council that a clear cut is for the best.”

“Friederich, I'm sorry you were forced to make this decision. You can still return to the Seminar, if you want. I will understand it.”

“I also promised God not to let you down, my brother,” Friederich said softly. “Or your son.”

“You have never given me any cause of disappointment. Perhaps now that you...” Karl Heinz trailed.

“Everything remains as it was,” Friederich said firmly. “I do love you, perhaps more than a brother, but this is a temptation; a test our Lord has placed in front of us. We should be strong and endure it.”

“Friederich, I do love you, and I want that we are together.”

“That can't be and you know it. You also agree this is a sin.”

“Yes, I do,” Karl Heinz assented and blushed, ashamed of his own weakness; his abominable behaviour in Stalingrad had fell like a curse upon his eldest son and he was determined not to repeat the same mistake once more. “It's very hard for me to see you everyday and not to be able to be with you as I would like.” His hands embraced the tall young man and he laid his head upon his chest as he tightened his hold over him.

“And then, what?” Friederich asked as he delicately separated himself. “There would be no joy for us once our thirst is quenched. There is no joy in a relationship that insults our Lord.”

“Yes, I know,” Karl Heinz said and kissed Friederich on the forehead with a mix of sadness and tenderness. “We must be strong and fight against it.” Reluctantly, he took two steps away from his love and fixed his eyes on his.

“We are friends and brothers,” Friederich said softly. This time it was him who closed the distance to take the older man into his arms. “What we have goes beyond what many couples can experience during their whole lives.”

“Yes, it does. Your friendship has been a blessing for me.”

“And yours too,” Friederich whispered before he kissed Karl Heinz on the lips, without any signs of passion.

Once they broke apart, Karl Heinz looked more relieved as he had feared Friederich would hate him for forcing him to choose sides and renounce to what he loved most. “Will you use your titles again?” he blurted out as he couldn't stand the silence that had drowned them.

“No, I don't want to. They mean nothing to me any longer. Do they make me special? No, they don't. Most people know me as Friederich Elsässer and the rest will soon forget it.”

“I simply don't understand you, Friederich. I do try, but I can't,” KarlHe Heinz sighed dejectedly. “You can't reject who you are.”

“I'm a servant of God and nothing else. I felt His call when I was very young and that was the most precious gift He could have given me. Without Him, I am nothing. Without being called His Serene Highness, I am just Friederich, the teacher. Do you see the difference? I'm not a warrior like you are.”

“Very well, Friederich. It will be done as you want. Get your jacket, and we will eat something before turning in.”

“Did you have more problems at the meeting?” The young man asked casually as he put his black jacket on again, making Karl Heinz smile warmly.

“A few. I can spoil your dinner with my rants, if you would want.”

“I would love to,” Friederich replied with an accomplice smile as he closed the folder with the handwritten letters, ready to be dispatched the day after Christmas.