1885, I came to save Greece

Chapter 182 The War Under the Black Robe

The highest holy council of the Greek Church was held in the most magnificent patriarchal cathedral in Athens.

Above the dome, the statue of Jesus, illuminated by countless candlelight, gazes down with compassion. The air is filled with the ancient scents of incense, beeswax, and parchment.

More than thirty of the highest clergy from all over Greece—bishops and metropolitans—dressed in magnificent vestments embroidered with gold thread and wearing crosses inlaid with jewels, and took their seats in turn.

Their faces wore a relaxed and self-satisfied expression.

The wave of land reform ultimately failed to shake the foundations of the Church. Under Crown Prince Constantine's "ingenious" arrangement, the Church's land and property were perfectly excluded from the Land Redemption Act.

This was interpreted by them as the royal family's "reverence" and "compromise".

Bishop Yermanos of Patras, the powerful conservative leader in the church, was beaming. His enormous body almost filled the huge chair that had been made especially for him.

He cleared his throat, preparing to deliver a passionate speech praising God's protection and discussing how the church should "celebrate" the smooth transition of the country to demonstrate harmony between the church and the royal family.

However, just as he was about to speak, an incongruous figure stood up.

Callinicus.

He was still wearing that faded, coarse cloth monk's robe, standing out starkly from the jeweled bishops around him. He stood there like a sharp-edged, uncarved rock thrown into a pool of stagnant, oily water.

"Before we celebrate, I think we should listen to the sorrowful prayers of the Lord's people."

Callinicus's voice wasn't loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly.

He took out the letter from Thessaly and, in a melodious and religiously charged tone, revealed its contents to the public.

When he read, “We implore you, as you have given us land, to bring light to our children,” several young bishops from impoverished backgrounds showed expressions of deep emotion.

Bishop Yermanos's brow furrowed into a knot.

After reading the letter, Callinicus did not stop.

He spread his arms wide, as if preaching, facing all his colleagues.

"Brothers! The Lamb of the Lord has gone astray! Ignorance is the breeding ground of sin, and ignorance is the servant of heresy! We have built magnificent churches and cast pure gold chalices, but our believers are weeping in darkness!"

His voice grew louder and louder, like a heavy hammer striking every soul present.

"Now, there is an opportunity! An opportunity for the glory of God to shine once more upon all of Greece! A great opportunity for the Church to once again become the guiding light for the people!"

He packaged Constantine's plan as a "gospel" from God and preached it with great passion.

He did not mention "taxes," but referred to them as "the dedication of knowledge."

He didn't talk about a "deal," but rather described it as a sacred mission for the church to "lead the nation and spread the gospel."

With the most ornate language and the most devout tone, he painted an enchanting picture for all the bishops: in the bright and clean classrooms scattered throughout Greece, virtuous priests were smiling as they taught children to read, do arithmetic, and pray to the Lord.

"This will be the most immortal achievement our generation can accomplish for God!" Callinicus cried out in final exclamation. "We will be recorded in history for this!"

His speech ended.

The hall was deathly silent.

All the bishops were stunned.

A few enlightened bishops had a thoughtful look in their eyes. They saw the enormous opportunity hidden behind this plan.

Most of the bishops, however, looked at each other in disbelief, still reeling from the shock of the "tithing of knowledge."

Suddenly, a roar like that of a wild beast shattered the silence.

"Nonsense!"

Bishop Yermanos abruptly stood up from his seat, his entire body trembling with rage. His usually pampered face was now a deep purplish-red.

His fat finger pointed directly at Callinikos's nose across the long conference table.

"Callinikos! You traitor to the Holy Mountain! You have been bewitched by the devil!"

He roared breathlessly, spitting as he spoke.

"What utter nonsense about 'knowledge offerings'! This is nothing but a conspiracy by the king! Blatant robbery!"

He saw through the plan at a glance. This wasn't the gospel at all; it was a poisoned dagger aimed at the heart of the church!

"He bribed those foolish peasants with land, and now he wants to bribe our children with schools! He wants the next generation of Greeks to know only the king and forget God!"

"The church's property is offered to God by believers throughout the ages! It is sacred and inviolable! Even the Ottoman sultans dared not covet it! Constantine! He is more greedy than the pagans!"

Yermanos's roar echoed beneath the cathedral's dome.

Despite the fierce onslaught, Callinicus remained as calm as a rock.

Instead of arguing with Yermanos, he turned his attention to the centrist bishops who remained silent and observing.

"Gentlemen."

His voice regained its ascetic coolness and restraint.

"Bishop Yermanos said we are building a magnificent church. Yes. The new church in Patras, just the pure gold mosaic on the dome alone cost two hundred thousand drachmas. That amount is enough to fund three years of schooling for a thousand children." His words were like a needle, gently pricking Yermanos's sore spot.

Sitting in the corner, the old bishop from the Ionian Islands subconsciously touched the small but valuable silver cross on his chest, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes.

"Our church is indeed becoming more and more magnificent. But fewer and fewer people are coming to pray. The hearts of believers are growing further and further away from us. Haven't you noticed?"

"This plan is a bridge for people to reconnect with the church. When a child learns the first word from a priest, solves the first math problem under the priest's guidance, and feels the first warmth from the church, then who will he turn away from when he grows up?"

Kalinikos surveyed the entire arena.

"Do you really want the church to become a lonely, isolated golden prison, rejected and forgotten by the people?"

His words prompted many centrist bishops to fall into deeper thought.

At the meeting, the divisions were clearly defined.

Led by Yermanos, the conservative bishops, who were mostly landowners, saw this as a direct threat to their power and wealth. Their eyes seemed to want to devour Callinicus alive.

A minority of enlightened individuals, represented by several young bishops, saw hope for the revival of the Church, and their faces showed clear support.

Most people are still undecided.

Yermanos sensed the danger of the situation. He could not let Callinicus continue.

Using his prestige cultivated over many years in the sacred council and his numerical advantage, he slammed his hand on the table before anyone else could speak.

"Enough! This blasphemous farce must stop immediately!"

He made a forceful announcement in his capacity as the chairman of the meeting.

"This so-called 'proposal' is absurd in content and malicious in intent; there is absolutely no need for discussion! I hereby declare it indefinitely postponed!"

He then turned his attention back to Callinicus.

"As for Father Callinicus, you openly spread seditious rhetoric during the Holy Council, attempting to divide the Church! I propose that a religious investigation committee be immediately established to conduct the most rigorous examination of your religious purity and whether there were any improper dealings between you and the Royal Family!"

The first encounter ended with Yermanos's fierce attack.

With their powerful influence, the conservatives temporarily gained the upper hand.

Callinicus was "invited" out of the meeting hall by two church guards. He did not resist, but just before leaving, he turned back and gave Yermanos a deep look.

That look contained no anger, no fear, only a cold, pitying gaze, as if looking at an inanimate object.