The Jesuit Letter
From NexusWiki
A letter found in the personal papers of Monsignor Marco Alonso, head of the Jesuit mission to the Saint Germaine archipelago from its foundation in 1572 until his death in 1588. The letter is undated, but appears to have been written during his final illness. Why it was evidently never sent, or even who it was intended for, remains unclear.
As I reach the end of this poor sinner’s life, wishing to stand at last before my Creator with a clear conscience, I find myself compelled to confess all that has taken place since my brothers and I came to these islands. I have already given one confession to brother Xavi, and as I am as flawed as any man, I had much to tell him – of my love for wine, my pride at our achievements here, and my anger with the governor and his men who make that work more difficult. Still, on one matter I have kept silent, and ordered others to keep silent, for many years, and I cannot regret the decision, for what I will confess now would upset not only poor Xavi, timid, kind soul that he is, but many in this community. For my arrogance in claiming such authority, I can only ask forgiveness, and hope that perhaps you will shortly understand my dilemma.
When my brothers and I first arrived on these islands, it seemed a place of great promise. The sun gave us a warm greeting, the air was sweet, and fruit hung heavy on the boughs of the trees. The fish and fowl amazed the eye, and even the sea, so often our tormentor during the long voyage from Spain, seemed a treasure. Our charges, the native people of this place, showed great potential as well. To be sure, they were pagan and savage to a man, but friendly and affable enough for all that, and as great lovers of tales and stories, they were glad to listen to us. In our first weeks, we built a church and named it for San Sebastian, trusting that we would not be obliged to follow his example, and our hearts were full of hopes and dreams of reaping a rich harvest for Christ in these lands.
We did not know, then, about the price that comes with all the glorious sun, pleasing air, and bright colours of this part of the world; we were yet ignorant of the storms and the fevers and the isolation from familiar things that weighs on a man’s heart. Yes, the bounty of the New World has its price, and these islands more than most.
As in many places that the Society of Jesus has travelled, the people here have their own superstitions and stories with which, in their ignorance, they seek to understand the world around them. Some have merely not heard the word of Christ, others have clearly been led astray by the deceiver, but almost all are simply in error, rather than deliberate in their misbelief. Still, minds raised from birth with wrong beliefs are often stony ground, and yet the people here were eager to talk with us, and initially we took great encouragement from this.
However, it soon became apparent this eagerness was merely part of a more serious difficulty. Although they were enthused with the teachings my brothers and I brought them, they somehow believed that rather than correcting their erroneous beliefs, our instruction confirmed them, and even, on many occasions, sought to correct us, explaining, in very affable and patient terms, that we were very close to knowing the truth, but slightly mistaken.
Their most passionate interest concerned the Revelation to John, which in truth I had not generally introduced to the heathen until their instruction was sufficiently advanced as to let them understand it properly, but they questioned us so persistently about God’s plan for the end of things that first I was persuaded to a broad explanation, and then gradually to more specifics, much to my later regret. For the natives took to this part of Scripture more than any other, although it was also in this matter that they were most adamant in their ‘correction’ of our teaching.
They were greatly taken with the prediction of Armageddon, and unanimous in their agreement that, in the end times, there would be a great battle between the forces of the light and the dark. However, they insist that this battle will not begin in the Holy Land, but here, in this place. And they say that the defeat of Satan is not guaranteed, but that the warriors who come to this place to fight will decide the fate of things. They speak with great confidence about this and that tribe of these warriors, that some will be utterly without reason, others will do nothing but comfort the wounded, or seek scholarship, and that they shall come from every time and place. They can speak at great length of all these things, and nothing we say can persuade them of their error.
In short, my brothers and I began to realize that we had not encountered, here in these beautiful islands, a society of pagans, such as we had prepared to instruct and bring to Christ’s bosom, but a nest of heretics. Here I made my greatest sin, for I knew that if it became known that these islands were infected with heresy, the people would be put to the sword, the leaders of our expeditions being, to my eyes, eager for blood whether they have good cause or not. I believed, and still do hope, that these people, peaceful and friendly as they are, might yet be saved, for although they are obstinate, I cannot believe them to be wicked. And so I ordered the brothers who had heard their heresy to speak of it to no-one, and forbade the others from conversation with the native elders, or to speak of Apocalypse or the Revelation with any of the people here.
It was not difficult to keep my brethren busy with more mundane instruction, and the tasks of keeping our community running, and although they have always remained persistent in their heretical beliefs, the natives have never pressed them on us, and so I was able to maintain the fiction that they were heathens, not heretics, and that our mission was a success, rather than a dire failure. In my pride, I believed I might yet succeed, but I was also afraid of the consequences for these people and myself should I reveal the truth. How could I explain having kept silent at all, my Society being dedicated to the fight against heresy? And so my coward tongue has been still all these years, and the brothers who share my secret are either still obedient, and blameless, blameless in obeying my sinful directives, or they will speak nothing more in this life, and I pray daily that the Lord has not condemned them for a sin that is mine alone.
Latterly, my cowardice has even led me to hope that I might return home, to retire in my senility and end my days in a familiar land far from these trials that have beset me. But I believe the fever has touched me at last, and that it is the plan of the Almighty that I, like Raul Salazar, who first brought the Word to these islands, will never leave again.
As my weakness has grown, so has my fear, for in recent days, I have heard the clash of weapons in the air, and seen men and women girded for battle in strange gear, with weapons of steel and fire and the lightning. They seem to me to walk among us, and yet not be among us, as if they were ghosts, if there can be ghosts of things yet to be. I fear, in my last days, that I have become infected both with fever and the strange heresy I have concealed so long, and I pray that both you and my Creator will not judge me too harshly, one who has served to the best of his poor ability, even here at the ends of the earth.
