Marquel, TPVs NYTimes Confession Section correspondent was washing people’s feet in Central Park when tired he stopped and read that Kim Davis, Kentucky County Clerk, Met Pope Francis.
The Vatican confirmed that the pope met with Ms. Davis, who defied a court order on same-sex marriage, but would not elaborate.
Just before the pope left for the airport, Marquel went into the confession booth at the Nunciato, where the pope was staying in NYC. Sure enough, it was the pope’s gentle, low voice that asked me my sins.
“Well I’m afraid I did a bad job of reporting your trip. Father,” Marquel said, “I completely missed your meeting with that Kim Davis from Kentucky.”
“Don’t worry my son. Nobody else got it either. It was a secret meeting. You weren’t supposed to know it let alone publish it.” Said the Holy Father.
“That was a problem. You have very few conscientious objectors in America. You used to have many when you were a great country. Now they all flee to Russia or the Ecuadorian embassy in London. So she was the closest I could get to one.” He whispered.
“She’s not even Catholic, I know. In Italian we say stupidaggine. But she was the best I could do. I’m sorry I disappointed you.” The Holy Father explained.
“Well now you’ve made it easier for people here to mix religion and state and shirk their jobs.” Said Marquel.
“I didn’t mean to do that. Look at me. I do a thousand things every day I don’t believe in. But it’s my job.” He said.
“Well, for instance, I have a dresser.” He said.
“I wish! No an actual person who helps me dress. I don’t believe in that as a matter of conscience. But when you’ve got a job to do and it comes with the job and others depend on you, you do it.” He said.
“Well I can’t say. But I would have done my job or left it.” He said.
“That’s easy. I told you I needed a conscientious injector. For later, when the cardinals attack me for some of my planned changes. I’ll have to say, my conscience wouldn’t let me do otherwise. That’ll shut them up.” He said.
“Well I’m allowed to say it’s all part of God’s plan.” He said.
“It sure is. You might say it’s my trump card.” He said, chuckling.
“Let’s just say that even idiots need God’s help, and frequently more of it.” He said.
“So you might meet with her again?” I asked.
“No I don’t think so. There are so many more. Are you voting for Bernie?” He asked, looking at my buttons, and my hat, and my bumper sticker, and my hoodie. I shook my head.
“I told Kim to do that. Bless you. And bless Bernie.” I stepped out of the confessional and looked at the other side. He was gone.
BY MARQUEL: Pope Francis Flew over a Conscientious Objector