James is My Name

By John G Pisarcik

He was dead! The bells pealed out their mournful cry. Crowds gathered, and in no time, the piazza was full. Then the announcement came to the people of Rome and the world—John XXIV was dead, poisoned by an unidentified person or persons. The Chair of Peter was empty.

He was buried in the bowels of St. Peter’s Basilica, alongside so many of his predecessors. The conclave to elect a new Pope had been called for, and Cardinals were arriving in Rome to participate in the election of his successor.

Days went by, and all the gathered crowd saw was black smoke rising from the chimney over the Sistine Chapel.

Then on the fourth day, as the first puffs of smoke rose, the bells of St. Peter’s rang out in jubilation for a new Pope had been elected.

The people, including reporters, tried to guess who it would be and where he would be from. But no one was prepared for the announcement that was made.

He was from the United States of America, only fifty-four years of age, and George Cardinal Writerson would be known from this moment forward as His Holiness Pope James.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: May 20, 2020
• ISBN: 9781646542727

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James is My Name

John G Pisarcik

Copyright © 2020 John G. Pisarcik

All rights reserved

First Edition

Fulton Books, Inc.

Meadville, PA

Published by Fulton Books 2020

ISBN 978-1-64654-271-0 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64654-272-7 (digital)

Library of Congress Control No.: TXu 2-172-978

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

The Opening Ceremonies

The Conclave Begins

The Election

A New Order

Installation of the 235th Pope

Learning Curve

Local Trips

Trip to France

Ad Limina Apostolorum

Annual Retreat

Consistory

Installation of Twenty-Four New Cardinals

Medical Changes

My First Christmas at the Vatican

Clean Sweep

Trips Abroad

Trip to the United States of America

Troubling Days at the Vatican

Consistory of Change

Day by Day

Trip to Guam

Troubling Events

Trip to England and Ireland

Intrigue at the Vatican

In Memoriam

This book is in memory of a dear priest friend of mine: Rev. Michael J. Burke. Michael earned his law degree and practiced law protecting the rights of others, especially immigrants. Cancer would ultimately take his earthly life.

He will be remembered for his quick wit, chain-smoking, sharp tongue, and total commitment to justice—and his love of Church history.

May he rest in the bosom of his God!

Prologue

Before the press or wire services could flash on their screens, the news, the people of Italy, the city of Rome were already rushing into the streets and toward the plaza. They had heard the thunderous, mournful bells of St. Peter’s Basilica ring out, which meant only one thing—the Pope was dead. As the first of the people arrived, the media was announcing to the world that Pope John XXIV had died. He was declared dead at 1:46 p.m. by the Cardinal Camerlengo, who had verified the death. He had authorized a death certificate and immediately told the Cardinal vicar for the Diocese of Rome to make it public that the Bishop of Rome has left us. The body of the deceased Pope is then removed from his quarters, and the Camerlengo ties the ribbons around the handles of the doors to the papal apartment and seals them with a hot wax seal. No one will enter these rooms until a new Pope has been named, and when the time is right, the seal will be broken in his presence, and he will be the first to enter these rooms making up the papal apartment. It is also the responsibility of the Cardinal Camerlengo to destroy the Fisherman’s Ring and break the papal seal so no documents can be forged in the name of the late Pope or bear his seal of approval.

Most are unaware that it is the Cardinal Camerlengo who, in the interim between one Pope and the next, is responsible for the government of the Church. It does not fall on the Cardinal Secretary of State or any of the other Cardinals who head up the different dicasteries of the Curia. In reality, all the heads of the various curial offices are suspended from exercising their authority during this time. For their power comes from the Pope and him alone. When he dies, all their positions are suspended. The new Pope may reappoint them if he wishes, or he can replace them.

The Cardinal Camerlengo during the interim will be assisted by three Cardinals that the College of Cardinals designate. The college will also elect three replacement Cardinals every three days to govern the Church with the Camerlengo. On the tenth day, I was elected one of the three to assist in the governance of the Church. Most of what we are all doing right now is helping in the preparation of the funeral and all the rites that go with the burial of a Pope. Over the next couple of weeks, the Cardinals will all arrive in Rome to elect a new Pope. Many will be here for the funeral, but it becomes too expensive for some to make the trip twice to Rome.

I happened to be in Rome visiting the Motherhouse of the Sisters of the Sorrowful Mother, whom I had known for many years. They had invited me, months ago, to come to the Motherhouse to conduct a retreat for the members of the Congregation that were stationed at the Motherhouse. In the Catholic Church, I am known as George Cardinal Writerson, Cardinal Archbishop of Washington, DC, in the United States of America. At fifty-five years of age, I am one of the younger Cardinals and have only been one going on two years now since I received my red hat or biretta from Pope John XXIV.

Now I would be an active participant in his funeral. He was a good and decent man who, during his pontificate, tried to heal the wounds of the Church brought about by the clergy scandal throughout the world. No continent had been spared. Much harm had been done, and John XXIV had devoted his ministry to reach out to those who had been harmed, to bring people back to the Church and to see beyond those who failed to live out the message of Jesus in their personal lives. It will be challenging to find another who had the level of empathy that this supreme pontiff had during his six-year reign.

The funeral liturgy took place five days after his death. Tradition has it taking place anywhere between four to six days after the Pope is declared deceased. It is immediately followed by nine days of mourning.

It was a beautiful day, and the liturgy was celebrated outside of St. Peter’s Basilica. There were about sixty Cardinals in attendance. When we came out of the Basilica doors, all you could see were pilgrims who had come to say goodbye to this beloved Pope. At the end of the liturgy, after the final commendations, as his coffin was lifted to be brought into the Basilica for burial in the underground crypt, the choir was singing, but the people burst into applause. Many of us were startled by the noise, not sure at first what was taking place. As I turned my head back toward the crowd, everyone was standing and clapping. It was their way of giving assent to the life, work, and ministry of this man who served faithfully as the Vicar of Christ. Whatever anyone of us thought about him, the crowd clearly showed us what they felt.

The call went out that day by the Dean of the College of Cardinals that the conclave would take place on the eighteenth day from the death of Pope John XXIV. This would allow sufficient time for those Cardinals who had to travel a great distance or because of health reasons could not get here for the funeral to make their way to Rome.

Over these next days, much work will be done to ensure the secrecy of the election, the physical arrangements for the ninety-eight Cardinals who are under the age of eighty and allowed to vote during the conclave. All will be assigned rooms in the dormitory-like building that Saint Pope John Paul II had built on the grounds of Vatican City. There we will sleep and eat, but all sessions will be held in the Sistine Chapel. I moved into the building this past week after finishing up the retreat I was giving to the sisters. I can assure you that there is nothing fancy about the accommodations. We all have a single bed, a desk, a kneeler, a chest for our clothes, and one chair. Showers are down the hall, as well as the toilets.

I know for myself that I must learn, during these days, as we live together the names of the different Cardinals, as well as where each comes from. I doubt that I will, or any of us will, for that matter, have the opportunity of meeting all ninety-eight who will participate in the conclave.

Chapter 1

The Opening Ceremonies

We gathered together, solemn, yet silently giddy. We knew millions would be waiting to see what we did today or in the days to come. We were a group of aging men deciding whom the Holy Spirit wanted as Pope. The youngest was from Africa at fifty-one, and the oldest was from Germany at the age of eighty. Men, no women, which says a lot in itself. We had celebrated Mass together and now were gathered in the Pauline Chapel of the Vatican Palace. Previously we listened to a sermon on the state of the Church and the qualities whoever was elected would need. From this chapel, we would proceed to the Sistine Chapel singing the Litany of the Saints, calling on those men and women who had gone before us and declared saints to pray for us, to assist us in the task that lay before us.

In the days of old, we were called the Princes of the Church. We acted like, in those days, real Princes of the realm. We were given land territories, buildings, and had the power to impose taxes. Our clothing reflected our high position and dignity. The scarlet red of our cassock, the skullcaps, and birettas we wore instantly told the villagers, members of the royal court, that we were Cardinals of the Roman Catholic Church. People knelt to kiss the large stone ring we wore on our right hand. If we deemed it appropriate, we blessed them.

This, however, was the twenty-first century, and virtually all those trappings of office and privileges afforded were long gone. In the days of old, our ranks came from the countries of Europe and mainly of Italy. Today we had men representing every continent on the globe. Many different cultures, colors, languages, and upbringings were represented by the College of Cardinals. Yes, some still came from families of privilege; however, the vast majority gathered today did not. A good number had come from countries that suffered poverty, limited educational opportunities, and many with dysfunctional governments. The pictures the world would see later today would show 120 men all dressed alike. We were wearing our red cassock, white surplice, red cape, pectoral cross hanging from the cord that went around our neck, and our red skullcap and red biretta. Each held a booklet in our hands, which contained the hymns we sang and the oaths we would take today and during the conclave. Every detail of what was being done today and in the following days had been determined ahead of time, both in written documents and prepared by the interim group of Cardinals charged with the task of calling and preparing this conclave.

Why we were here was because it was mandated that we gather together. The law required us to leave our home country, our friends, and our faithful followers and gather in this old city. One of us would never return to the life we led before and the people who were an integral part of our life. Much of what we would do over the next days had been laid down into directives that must be followed. The only thing that could not be legislated or determined was what we would do.

Our most recent Pope, John XXIV, died one month ago. The Church mourned; many of us were here for his funeral. Now we were back. This time we would elect who would ascend to the Chair of Peter, the man who would be the Vicar of Christ, the supreme pontiff of the Roman Catholic Church. Over the last few weeks, many phone calls had been made between the Cardinals. Electronic messages had been sent back and forth, all feeling one another out as to whom we should elect. Who did we believe could lead the Church at this time in our history, being faithful to our doctrine and tradition, and yet having a vision of what the Church should be and could be like under his leadership and guidance? Since our backgrounds were so different, it was reflected in what each of us looked for in a spiritual leader. Although once elected, he would be the leader of a country (Vatican City), his army was tiny (134 Swiss Guards), his land smaller than many of our individual countries or states. When he traveled, he would be afforded the honors of a head of state and treated accordingly by the host country. And he would welcome other heads of state to the Vatican. His real power lay in his voice. He would speak with moral conviction regarding the dignity of the human person, the rights and responsibilities governments had toward their people, and most importantly how we were all equal in the sight of God, and if you will, one family being called to perfection, generosity, simplicity of heart while we protected the weakest among us.

I was one of the Cardinals from the United States of America. There were six of us here today. Having been a Cardinal for only two years, I felt almost out of place among some of my colleagues who had been Cardinals for well over twenty years. Nevertheless, here I was, walking into the Sistine Chapel to pray, reflect, question, and pray again until I was sure that whoever I cast my ballot for was the best to serve the Church. We walked in double file, passing Swiss Guards, their eyes ever vigilant on us knowing that soon they would pledge their lives to defend and protect whoever was elected Pope. For over five hundred years, these soldiers had committed their lives to this task. Not a single man saw their job as ceremonial. They were trained thoroughly in the use of the weapons you observed and arms you did not see. They had already swept the Sistine Chapel for electronic bugs or for people who should not be present inside the conclave. As these young men took their job with the utmost seriousness, so now must we who would formally elect the Supreme Pontiff.

About half of the men gathering in the chapel for prayer now I knew by name. I must learn the names of the others and their backgrounds in the next few days. Fortunately, we had been given cards that had a picture of each cardinal, his name, and the country he was from to help us in that task. We would vote today, but no one believed any person would receive enough votes to be Pope. What it would tell us was who had tried to influence others to vote for him, before us arriving here in the city of Rome and St. Peter’s Basilica.

Once we were all inside, the doors to the chapel would be closed and sealed. No person would leave until after there was a newly elected Pope. In the Middle Ages, this process could go on for weeks or months, and in a few cases, for years. As a result, new regulations were instituted that food is cut back after two weeks and heat is reduced in the building until we reached an accord. Each week after the second, more things would be reduced or removed, forcing the now starving and cold members of the conclave to do their task and elect a new Pope. I did not believe we would see even a week go by before we knew who it was going to be.

Once inside the Sistine Chapel, the mood dramatically changed. The chapel in itself was a magnificent and majestic place. Michelangelo’s paintings, especially since they had been restored, were breathtaking. This was a place of history and religious tradition. As we walked inside, we saw rows of chairs and tables arranged on both sides of the chapel. There were two rows on each side, facing each other across the chapel. Sixty Cardinals were assigned to each side. Seats were assigned by seniority. I was near the entrance to the chapel, being one of the youngest. I looked across the floor and saw the Cardinal from Africa looking straight at me.

I believe his name was Matu Rumba, but I must check on that. He did not smile but was just staring at me, a look that cut through you, as if he was trying to see inside of you. It made me uncomfortable. I tried to recall if I had ever said anything or written something that might have offended him or the area of the Church he represented. To the best of my knowledge, I could not recall having done either. It took time before all 120 men had taken their assigned places. I noted that a few others, some of the older Cardinals, seemed to be doing the same, or maybe just looking this way to determine when the procession would end and when the business at hand would begin. Nevertheless, I believed they were looking at me. Strange, to say the least!

Up to the middle of the 1900s, each Cardinal took his place with a canopy over his head. The number of Cardinals was limited then. It was Pope John Paul II that kept the number at 120. In those days, the canopy was in its raised position. It symbolized that the Cardinals were equally charged with governing the Church in the absence of a Supreme Pontiff. However, once a new man was elected and accepted, all the Cardinals not chosen pulled the cord on the side of their chair, and their canopy descended, leaving only the new Pope with his up. The moment he voiced his acceptance, he became the new Pope. The dropped canopies clearly showed that now he was in charge, and we were there to assist him as he so pleased. This conclave must choose wisely. The world press and many in the Catholic Church questioned whether or not our deceased Pope died of natural causes or was murdered. Would it be the first time? History clearly shows that it would not have been.

Even in the late 1900s, Pope John Paul died before he had yet reached his first full month as the successor to Saint Peter and Vicar of Christ. Rumors had run rampant that because of his theological positions, the smiling Pope, as he was known by the populace, was murdered. In the last week of his life, at public audiences, he had called God Our Mother. He referred to God not in the traditional masculine gender but instead spoke of God in the feminine gender. It is said that on his desk, written in his own hand, was a document that would have made clerical celibacy optional and no longer mandatory for the priesthood. Whether true or not, we would probably never know. The official statement said he died of natural causes. He had a weak heart, and it gave out. Were individuals, even high-ranking clerics of the church, beyond such a heinous crime? I am afraid to say they were not. We prayed that it was not the case, but John Paul’s successor, Pope John Paul II, waited till religious sisters arrived from Poland, whom he personally asked to form his household, before he ate a meal that was prepared for him. Coming out of a communist country, he was well aware of how easy it would be to arrange the demise of any individual.

Foreign powers have influenced papal elections over the centuries. As a result, each Cardinal now in this room would swear an oath to maintain the secrecy of all that took place during the conclave. We would swear not to allow or be influenced by any secular authority in our day-to-day voting. The Cardinal Dean had just stood up in front of us all and had just read aloud the oath we would now take. It began with the most senior Cardinal in rank until we all had gone up to the Book of the Gospels and swore on it this oath in Latin: "Et ego, [first name], Cardinalis [last name], spondeo, voveo, ac iuro. Sic me Deus adiuvetn ethace Sancta Dei Evangelia, quae manu mea tango."

For those of us whose Latin was not that good, an English translation was also printed, so we clearly understood what we swore in Latin. "And I, [first name], Cardinal [last name], promise, vow, and swear. Thus, may God help me and these Holy Gospels which I touch with my hand."¹

It was now my turn, and like those who had gone before me, I placed my right hand on the Book of the Gospels and, in a clear voice, recited the oath so many had done before me today and over the centuries. Cardinal Matu Rumba was the last to take the oath, and once he returned to his seat, the master of the papal liturgical celebrations ordered for all persons who were not one of the Cardinal electors or conclave participants to leave the Sistine Chapel. He went to the double doors and called out in Latin, Extra omnes! Roughly translated it means Everybody else, get out now! He then closed the doors. The doors were now locked from the outside. None of us would now be permitted to leave until our work was done.

We now listened to a speech on the state of the Church throughout the world, what problems it faced, and the qualities the new Pope might need to address those issues. The list was formable. Every person in the room listened attentively. We may be well aware of the problems facing the Church in the country we were from, but few of us were fully aware of what other parts of the world were experiencing daily.

We were reminded that we may not discuss or correspond with anyone outside the conclave of what took place by letter, radio, telephone, internet, or social media. The penalty for doing so was punishable by excommunication.

Once we had listened to the instructions regarding how we would proceed over the next days or weeks, the first of our ballots was to take place now, and then starting tomorrow, we would vote twice in the morning and twice in the afternoon.

---

¹ Papal Conclave, Wikipedia, accessed August 03, 2019, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Papal_conclave.

Chapter 2

The Conclave Begins

Once again, by seniority, each man filled out the ballot form, or scrutiny as it is called, and brought it up to the altar. The ballot read as follows: "Eligo in Summum Pontificem (I elect as Supreme Pontiff)." The card already had my name printed above that line and under it a place for my signature. All I had to do was write in the name of the Cardinal I had chosen and sign it. Like the other 120 electors, I filled in my card, and when it was my turn, I walked up to the altar and placed the card with the others. As I did, I stood before the other Cardinals and proclaimed the following oath:

Testor Christum Dominum, qui me indicaturus est, me eum eligere, quem secundum Deum iudico eligi debate.²

(I call as my witness Christ the Lord, who will be my judge that my vote is given to the one who, before God, I think, should be elected.)

A man will need a two-thirds majority to be elected. No one believed that it was going to happen. Now that all the votes had been placed in the container, the first scrutineer chosen shook the vessel to mix them up, and the last scrutineer took each one out, one at a time, and read out loud the name that was chosen and the number of votes. Because of the oath that I had taken, I cannot give you the names of the eight men whose names appeared on the ballots or the number of votes each man received. I can, however, tell you that I received one vote. When I heard my name read aloud, I know my mouth fell open, and it felt like my heart stopped beating. All I could think was, Who in their right mind just voted for me? I am, for all practical purposes, an unknown American Cardinal. No American has ever been elected, nor do I believe this conclave will be any different. However, I saw how many heads turned toward me when my name was called out. Most looked as shocked as I was, except one. He sat right across from me, still staring at me, but this time, there seemed to be something different in that look from this African Cardinal, almost a look of satisfaction as he watched my reaction and surprise.

One of the Cardinals from France received the highest number, followed by a prelate from South America, another from a communist country, two from Italy, one from Canada, and the last from the Caribbean. None were close to the required number of votes needed. Nevertheless, the names were implanted in the minds of the electors. Many circled the picture of the Cardinal as his name was called out. I knew I would be sincerely inquiring about two of the men named for either would make a good Pope in my mind. I knew that each elector would be doing the same this evening and before the votes started tomorrow.

If I am right, I would try to enlighten the Cardinal from Africa why I should not be elected.

We finished this first session in prayer and song as the ballots were burned, and the world saw the black smoke rise from the chimney over the Sistine Chapel, telling them we had not elected a new Pope.

Most of the Cardinals went back to their assigned rooms or took a stroll through the Vatican gardens. There was a two-hour period before we would assemble in the dining hall for our evening meal. I, for my part, went back to my room, changed clothing into a pair of sweats and running shoes, and headed off to explore the grounds of the Vatican and clear my head. I ran for about forty-five minutes before making my way back to the dormitory. There I stripped down, took a needed shower, and dressed for dinner.

The dining hall was set up like a large cafeteria. Each Cardinal took a tray and went through a line, picking out what food he wanted. There was nothing fancy, I can assure you. This evening there was a vegetable soup, bread, cheeses, a stew, fruit, coffee, tea, or water. You could hear the groans from some of our more substantial colleagues not accustomed to eating so meagerly. I had the soup, some cheese, an apple, and a cup of hot tea.

I sat at a table with five other Cardinals. Quickly we established we would speak in either English or French. We helped one another understand what each was saying. Everyone wanted to know the usual, where each of us was from, what issues we were facing back in our diocese. The one thing that was not discussed was the result of the balloting. It did not need to be addressed. I knew that these five men were listening very carefully to every word I spoke, and before the night was out, it would be shared with others. So, right from the start of the meal, I clearly articulated my position that I came to Rome to elect a Pope, not to be a candidate for Supreme Pontiff. The five nodded that they understood but still asked me for too many questions about the state of my diocese and what I thought about issues that were brought up when we listened to the overall condition of the Church throughout the world. I, like many of them, did not realize how many areas of discontent, misunderstanding of Church doctrine, and practice existed. If the new Pope was not careful in how he addressed the problems, it could split the Church apart. Numbers in a good portion of the world, as far as participating Catholics, were down considerably, a reality all mainline Churches were experiencing. We all saw Church buildings being shut down and parishes closed due to a lack of support and attendance. I