Dinner in the bishop’s residence:

To receive an invitation to dinner at the Bishop’s residence was a matter that could be subjected to a wide variety of interpretation; on the one hand it could mean that you were being acknowledged for your apostolic work, or that some rumor had reached his Eminence’s ears in regards to heroic virtue, but more than likely, it was that some news had been brought to his attention that there existed a need to reign in unwarranted liberties.

             As such it was not without a certain degree of apprehension that Father John made his way to the Bishops abode, which lay neatly tucked behind Holy Ghost cathedral on Ogui road in Enugu.

 In order to access the small road which lay adjacent to the cathedral parking lot he had to first negotiate past the bus stops  which were on both sides of the road causing significant congestion and then drive past the Ogbete market access roads, which was also  very busy.

            By no means could the residence have been described as ostentatious; it was a modest but large two storey building built in colonial style with wooden shutters framing  louvred windows.  The building was painted a nice warm brown hue and large old trees surrounded a neat roundabout where the taxi driver unceremoniously dropped him off.  He alighted from the Taxi thanking the driver and handed him the fare.  In his right hand he held his briefcase which held a change of clothes and a toothbrush as he was going to spend the night in the guest suite as priests often had to do who had come from far away parishes, not being able to return to their rectories late at night.

The large carved wooden door was firmly shut and he proceeded to ring on the door bell.  In due course a young well dressed man came and peeped through a shutter, before ascertaining who it was, and then proceeded to open the door.

“Good evening, father” the man politely addressed him.

Father John nervously smiled,

“Good evening,”

“And how can I help you today father,” he asked, all the while ascertaining that he indeed was talking to a priest by looking over the cassock, briefcase and modest sandals.

“I am Father John Okoye, Pastor of St Johns Catholic church in Agbani, I am here to see the Bishop.”

The young man nodded, and without saying anything: walked over to a little desk by the side of the room and opened a little book and with one finger running over the pages

“Ah, yes… here we are, December 5^th, father John and Father Michael.  Is father Michael with you?”

“Is that Father Michael Onwubiko?”

The man looked down at the page one more time, then nodded slowly in assent.

“ I was not aware that father Michael was coming” the priest continued “ and in any case Father Michael is based over at Bigard memorial whereas I am posted to St John’s  catholic church in Agbani .”  He declared rather defensively.

   It was difficult to impress this young man who dealt with clergy and holy men of far greater importance than a mere parish priest at all times; being a member of the Bishop’s staff may not have been of great pay but the benefits were numerous.  Day in and day out there would be a steady stream of Bishop’s and sometimes an archbishop or two, and who knew if in the future even a pope might make it to this end of the world…

 A row of wooden seats lined the other side of the room from the small table and he was directed to have a seat there and to wait for further directions.

              At this juncture Father John was promptly abandoned to his own devices, in the entrance foyer of the Bishop’s residence.  There was not much to distract him in the room.  It was meticulously clean, the terrazzo floors shone brightly in red black and white, with newly applied polish; on the white washed walls were a crucifix and two framed photographs, one of the pope, and the other of his eminence himself, both taken in their full regalia. On the small table with the bishop’s appointment book stood a small statue of Our Lady of Lourdes in her blue dress and white veil.  Not surprising thought father John as it was rumored that His eminence had an intense devotion to the Blessed Virgin, and that he was on the verge of starting a religious order devoted to Our lady; but then it was often hard to distinguish fact from fiction in these matters.  Needless to say father John did not really have much personal knowledge of the Bishop, and had no intentions of exploring the veracity of these statements in person either.

            With a few moments to spare he opened up his briefcase and brought out his breviary, and went over the evening prayers and readings.  At the antiphon to the Blessed virgin he stole a glance at the statue of the blessed virgin, “My soul doth magnify the lord and my spirit has rejoiced in God my savior, for behold He has regarded the humility of His servant and behold all generations will call me blessed…”

            Whenever he prayed this prayer his soul would melt, a mothers love for her son, a love that God had for some unknown reason denied him, but then he had given even him the blessed mother, as a mother . for truly he had always thought, she was the mother of all orphans ,or half orphans like himself, brought up in the homes of strangers and denied a mothers love.  How his soul ached within him,” why Jesus could you not have given me a mother who had lived who had fried akara for me when I was hungry, who had wiped my tears when the world was cruel?”. Call as he might there never had been a response.  Jesus never said anything to him.   He wept at the tabernacle, wept at mass, and kept asking why, why.  Then one day he had read the Gospel of St. John, where the beloved disciple and the blessed virgin were the only two left at the foot of the cross, as Our Lord died and Jesus had said,” mother see your son; and son see your mother”. From that day on he had wept no more, for it was as if the heavens themselves had declared that she was his mother.  And the mother led him to her Divine Son, and he became a priest.  Hence whenever the Blessed virgin was mentioned his ears would perk up as if they talked about his real mother and hence why he had followed so closely the rumors’ of his eminence’s religious order which was rumored to be devoted to the blessed virgin.

Father Michael was quite different from his protegee, infact it would not be entirely incorrect to assert that they were diametric opposites.  Where father John was the fire and the charismatic whose young soul was afire with the Divine love, Father Michael was more pragmatic he was the scholar, the theologian, the doctor of canon law, who loved God no less but, the difference lay in the expression of the same.   Nevertheless, after being his spiritual director since the young priests seminarian days they had had an affinity for each other which  was purely spiritual. Father John was the young priest that Father Michael had always aspired to be but It had been Gods will otherwise.  Now he was the director of novices and had the unpleasant task of weeding out the sins of the young and determining the lack of vocations  in others.  As a matter of policy or conflict of interest he had always refused to be the confessor of the newly graduated priests.  This was not from lack of caring but because he felt over extended as it was, and being precise and punctual in the performance of his duties did not want to take on a responsibility he was uncertain he would be able to fulfill.  However, in the case of Father John he had caved in; perhaps it was the fact that he was aware that this poor priest had been denied every advantage in life that he felt that he could not say no. there was also something in his holiness and in his simple unquestioning faith in God that he had hoped to learn himself some new dimension of the Infinite God that he had hitherto been denied.

 To him, to look at God was to look into a bright kaleidoscope held up against the sun, first blinding then as you shook the kaleidoscope God could appear in different ways to different people in a seeming infinite manifestation of His existence, an experience unique to each and everyone in his own way.

“Father John Father John, you are here already and I hoped to surprise you by being here first. I know that would have come as a complete shock, I did not even know you were expected here too, do you think we will be alone with his eminence?”

“I have never had the privilege of dining with him “.

“I doubt we will be alone my understanding is that there may be Monsignor Oguike, he is a frequent guest at dinner and I believe he is in Enugu at present”.