Faith & Empire: Book One of The Holy Terran Empire

15. The Farewell Tour

"Your father came in eighth out of a pack of three-hundred and fifty-two," my mother added.

"That's primo, dad," I said.

"I thought so," my mother added with a wink at her husband.

My father smiled warmly. "Thank you son, and you too, hon. But to paw-paw's point, he's absolutely right. You're going to be meeting a whole lot of new people. The further you get from home, the wider the world you'll find. It behooves you to enter that wider world with eyes just as wide open."

"Don't worry dad."

"We're not worried Zeph," my mother said. "You're a smart boy, a smart young man, I should say. We raised you proper. You know right from wrong. Not everyone does however. Many blur the line between the two. It's not always knowingly or from wicked intent."

"Sometimes it is," my grand father interjected.

My mother conceded the point with a nod before continuing. "Sometimes, yes. Most times, they just don't know better. Either way, it can be easy to be swept along by a crowd or a charismatic, would-be free-thinker."

"There's no path but ye olde straight and narrow for me, mom. You should know that by now."

"We all know that," my dad said as he put down the last desert spoon. "We just like to hear you say it. Now go fetch the twins so we can eat."

On Easter's third Sunday, I bid farewell to my priest and parish. They threw a little brunch shindig for me after Mass. I spent a few, heartwarming hours accepting congratulations, well wishes, prayer cards, holy medals and a very generously loaded credit disk.

Ever since receiving the invitation to study at Golan Heights Military Academy, I had been so looking forward to the life ahead of me that I never gave much thought to the life I was leaving behind. Near the end of the brunch, when I had a moment to myself, I sat back and surveyed the crowded church hall. Seeing my parish gathered to bid me good luck and God's blessing, I was suddenly and sharply struck by how much I was leaving behind. I confess I was overwhelmed by the outpouring of their love. It humbled me as few things had up to that point in my life.

Father Sao Paolo sat down next to me while I basked in that profound gratitude. The small, silver-haired priest slapped my thigh a couple of times and said, "That's quite the crowd you've brought out, young man."

"I... I know but, I can't believe it. I'm touched Father. Truly, I'm honored."

"You're muched loved around here, Zephyrinus. You'll be sorely missed."

"Thank you Father," I responded and then paused to swallow the lump of emotion threatening to burst out in a sob. Hot tears welled up in my eyes as I continued. "I will miss y'all too."

The old priest gave me a broad smile and a few silent seconds to compose myself. "You know Zeph, Golan Heights is going to teach you everything that has ever been taught about Just War Theory. They'll cover everything and everyone from Saints Ambrose and Augustine and Aquinas as well as the Protestants Luther, Calvin and Grotius and the numberless slew who've come after them."

I nodded and said, "Sure."

Father Sao Paolo fixed his familiar and gentle gaze on me before continuing. "But if you will indulge me, the simple parish priest who baptized you and watched you grow into an astounding young man, I too would advise you."

"Of course, Father."

"All the jus ad bellum theory aside, the individual soldier has but one means of determining whether what he does is just or not in the eyes of our Lord."

My emotions under control, Father Sao Paolo had my full attention.

The priest turned his head and with a hand gestured at our fellow parishioners. "They must be your motivation for whatever you do as a soldier."

I looked over at my fellow parishioners happily chatting away in varied clusters. When I turned back to the priest, Father Sao Paolo continued.

"Whatever you do Zephyrinus, it must be done for the love of them, to secure their liberty and their lives from any enemy who would rob them of either. If, God forbid, your vocation leads you into war, then love must lead you through the battlefield, the love for those you left at home.

"If, instead, you ever allow hatred of the enemy to become your motivation, you will make a mockery of your vocation, and your actions, however justified militarily, will not be found just or pleasing in our Lord's eyes."

I nodded slowly, gravely. I internalized my priest's words with a deep inhalation. Exhaling, I said, "Yes, Father. I will remember."

The next day, I was unable to hold back the tears when I said my goodbyes to the twins, Fabian and Faustina and my parents and grandfather. Neither were they. My face was damp with tears, a blessed mix of theirs and mine own, when I boarded the transatlantic transport to begin my new life in the Kingdom of Jerusalem.

The End