"Dobre rano, jak se vam dari?, he said in Czech, - Good morning, how are you?
The startled priest responded automatically, "Dobre, dekuji, a vam?" - Very well, thank you, and you?
"Well, thank you," replied the Vicar General, "I enjoyed your service very much, and you seem to have a loyal and devoted following."
"I am blessed, and I thank God for it," said the priest, crossing himself, a genuflection that Msgnr Schrattenbach reflexively copied.
"I wonder if I could talk to you for a moment," he said to the Father, "walk with me."
Somewhat surprised by the unexpected attention of the Bishop's right hand man, Fr. Vitezslav hurriedly finished returning the fine casket to the repository alter, knelt briefly to say a rapid prayer, and bustled over to join his superior who was waiting in the aisle. He was a short, stocky priest, who's stature reflected his humble peasant origins and his love of segedinsky gulas Szrged and selska pecene - two pork dishes of which Klacel, his fellow Czech, would have heartily approved. Dark brown eyes twinkled behind long, almost feminine eyelashes, but the jaw was manly square and the blue stubble on his cheeks spoke of a person who had to shave at least twice a day.
"Father," Schrattenbach said, taking him by the arm and leading him down the aisle, "Easter is a time of renewal and change. During this festive and holy season we must all give thought to what God wants of us in the coming year. I am sure you have been thinking about this?" He waited for an answer.
"Of course," stuttered the priest, not knowing why the Monsignor was having a theological discussion in this unusual manner.
"Good, because momentous changes are coming to us all, and it is good to be prepared and ready."
"Of course," was all Fr. Vitezslav could think to repeat.
"The Bishop has been watching your progress here at St. Thomas', and I am sure I am breaking no confidence if I tell you that he is very pleased with all he has seen." The priest had the modesty to blush, but said nothing, so the Monsignor continued, "Yes, very pleased. So pleased in fact, he has singled you out for a particular honor in this Lenten period. He would like you to be the celebrant, the officiating priest, during the services of Grundonnerstag. I don't need to tell you how much of an honor this will be."
But from the rapid series of expressions that fell and moved across the parish priest's face, Monsignor Schrattenbach could clearly read the conflicting emotions of surprise and shock. Holy Thursday - Maundy Thursday in the English celebration of Easter - or Grundonnerstag in Germanic countries, was a major day of celebration in the Brno Catholic Church. On that day the Mass of the Chrism was held in which the Bishop blessed the holy oils that were used for the sick, the chrism and the oil of the catechumens. But it was the evening mass that was being discussed here.
In the evening mass, the Mass of the Lord's Supper, the most solemn and impressive mass of the year, the alter was decorated and the crucifix and tabernacle veiled in white, while the priests clothed themselves in their richest vestments, also of white. At the beginning of the service the organ and choir would sing out the Gloria and all the church bells would ring resplendent, in full throat. As the bells finally fell silent their ringing would be replaced by that of a wooden clapper, and the church bells of Brno would be heard no more until the Gloria of the Easter Vigil, which would be intoned on Holy Saturday.
But, and this was why such conflicting thoughts were racking Fr. Vitezslav, only one priest celebrates mass on Holy Thursday! All other priests, including all the high dignitaries of the church, receive Holy Communion from the hands of that priest in a vivid re-enactment of the Lord's Supper. All eyes would be on that one priest for the whole mass; it was indeed a signal honor to be chosen for this duty every year, and, deep in his soul, Fr. Vitezslav never thought he would ever be chosen, despite a longing for the opportunity.
All this was read by the astute Vicar General, and when he judged the time ripe, he went on, "Naturally, you will not refuse. But there is more, and here I must demand you absolute discretion, nothing I am about to say must go any further than these holy walls. I have your assurance?"
Poor Fr. Vitezslav still in shock from the first part of the news, and still trying to digest it's import, could do little more than gurgle a general acceptance of Schrattenbach's terms.
"Good," the Monsignor paused as if collecting himself, "it is the future we must look to at Easter, and the future of our diocese depends heavily what happens in our churches here in Brno. In turn, and no insult is intended by what I am about to say next, the most important church in Brno is that of St. Peter and St. Paul. As that church flourishes, so does our diocese and so does our mission to Christ, but should that church falter, so does our diocese and so does our mission."
He drew closer to the priest and placed an arm around his broad shoulders, "And here lies the future. Father Kohl is old, and, God bless him and save him, he will be with us for many years yet to come, but as Dean of St. Peter and St. Paul's, his stewardship is sadly failing. The Bishop is rightly concerned, and is looking to honorably move Father Kohl into and onto other duties. That may be happening soon." He looked closely into the eyes of the priest to see if his message was getting across, then went on, "Of all the possible replacements for Father Kohl as priest of St. Peter and St. Paul's, your name stands high on the list."
The second shock of the day was clearly evident on Fr. Vitezslav's face. Even during the Monsignor's careful build up, he had not drawn the obvious conclusion for himself. Spoken coldly and simply in the sanctuary of the church, the offer sounded stark and brutally casual, especially to this modest priest. Never had he imagined rising to such heights so fast. The emotion of delight was chased immediately by a feeling of unworthiness, and it showed on his face. With a twist of his lip, Monsignor Schrattenbach could not help comparing this priest's reaction to possible advancement with that shown recently by Brother Timothy. But then the two men had very different views of themselves.
"Monsignor ...," stuttered the priest, "what can I say! Such honor, and I never ... no I never expected anything like this."
"Your modesty becomes you," said the Monsignor, soothingly, "and there is, of course, no guarantee that your promotion to St. Peter and St. Paul's will take place ... soon. As you might imagine, the Bishop will have to take into account many other factors."
"Yes, of course," he hesitated, "what other factors?"
"Well," the Vicar General continued smoothly, "there is the loyalty of your present congregation. Could you leave them? "
This time the look of disappointment was palpable on Fr. Vitezslav's face and the conflict in his soul was solidly obvious. Naturally, the human part of him wanted to accept the offer of advancement, but the devotion of his current flock pulled him equally strongly back.
"But perhaps you would not have to," Schrattenbach went on, "I have noticed that many at your mass were originally attended at St. Peter and St. Paul's. If you became priest at that church it is highly likely that most of your parishioners would follow you there."
"Yes, of course," agreed the relieved priest, "it is not far, they would come."
Monsignor Schrattenbach drew the priest closer to him and unconsciously lowered his voice as he spoke the next few sentences. "That only leaves you with the problem of the bones of Saint Hugh of Lincoln. You will not want to leave them at St. Thomas' they must come with you to St. Peter and St. Paul's. But how? You know how much they have become part of your services here." He had gauged his man well, once again the conflict in the breast of the Father was terribly obvious.
"But," said Monsignor Schrattenbach, "with this problem, I may be able to help you. Let me explain ..."