Taichang Ming Dynasty

Chapter 805 Parables and Interpretation

"Oh! So that's where it is." Sergei gazed out the window, his eyes drifting far away. "That temple has such a good location. I wish we could build a prayer room or even a church there!"

"Hmph. You're dreaming, but that's just wishful thinking." Luo Yagu peeled a few edamame beans and threw them into his mouth, chewing as he said, "The address for our church has been decided."

"It's settled!?" Sergei's eyes lit up, and he quickly asked, "Where is it?"

“You should know where it is,” Luo Yagu spread his hands, “We’ve been there before.”

"The place I visited before." Sergei paused, a look of realization mixed with disappointment crossing his face. "Hmm, you mean...that place?"

Luo Yagu nodded: "If the 'place' you're referring to is that dilapidated little chapel inside Xuanwu Gate, then..."

Sixteen years earlier, in the thirty-third year of the Wanli Emperor's reign, Matteo Ricci, a missionary who had already established himself in Beijing, built a small chapel near the Xuanwu Gate city wall in Dashiyongfang with the help of then-Grand Secretary Shen Yiguan. However, this chapel was very small and unrenovated, a completely traditional Chinese building. The only thing that identified it as a church was a carved wooden cross. In the forty-fourth year of the Wanli Emperor's reign, the Nanjing Massacre broke out, and the Wanli Emperor issued an edict banning Christianity. Pang Diwo, Xiong Sanba, and others in Beijing were expelled to Macau. This small church was also implicated and its church status was revoked until the Taichang Emperor responded to the Ministry of Rites' petition and lifted the ban.

"Is it really there? That place is so small! It's not even as big as the courtyard where we live now." Sergei's voice suddenly rose a little. "It can only hold a dozen or so people for worship at most. How can it be used as a proper church?"

“Just because it’s small now doesn’t mean it will be small in the future.” Luo Yagu took a sip of wine, her tone filled with anticipation. “The emperor has allowed us to buy up all the surrounding houses to use as land for the church. We’ve already looked at them. As long as we can buy about ten small courtyards around here, we’ll have enough land to build a magnificent temple.”

"Buy it?" Sergei frowned. "I remember Chairman Nikolai Trigo said that the Emperor would allocate money and land for us to build a church, didn't he?"

“You’ve got it mixed up,” Luo Yagu said. “That’s the library.”

"Is it the library?" Sergei scratched his forehead.

“It’s the library,” Luo Yagu said with certainty. “The emperor has never said he would pay for us to build a church. It’s already a blessing that he’s allowed us to buy land and expand.”

"How much would that cost?" Sergei picked up a piece of braised meat, put it in his mouth, and chewed slowly.

Luo Yagu sighed: "According to our preliminary estimate, just buying the land will cost tens of thousands of taels of silver."

"Tens of thousands of taels!" Sergei's eyes widened in astonishment. "My God, does it really cost that much money?"

“That’s ‘Da Shi Yong Fang,’ a place where every inch of land is worth its weight in gold.” Luo Yagu smiled bitterly. “Back then, with the support of fellow believers from all sides, President Matteo Lich spent several hundred or even a thousand taels of silver to buy such a small place. Now, if you want to buy the surrounding land, you’ll need just that much money.”

"So you came to Beitang this time..." Sergei swallowed the piece of meat with a sip of wine, "to raise funds for the church?"

“That’s right. We can’t come up with such a large sum of money ourselves; we can only try to raise it.” Luo Yagu picked up the wine jug and poured Sergei another cup. “Those merchants just did business with the imperial court; they should have some spare cash, right?”

“A few hundred or a thousand taels of silver might be acceptable,” Sergei said pessimistically, “but tens of thousands of taels of silver is simply too outrageous, and those merchants would not be willing to pay that much.”

"Ten thousand taels is a lot, but it shouldn't be a problem for them, like this trip," Luo Yagu poured himself some more wine. "...They must have made quite a bit, right?"

"No," Sergei shook his head. "I haven't received a single copper coin yet."

"How is that possible!" Luo Yagu exclaimed in astonishment. "Didn't they say that they transported nearly 50,000 shi of grain this time? Even at the market price of seven qian per shi, that should be more than 30,000 taels of silver. How come they don't have the money? I don't believe that noble and wise monarch would renege on his debt."

"Don't you know?" Sergei said, "The court did not pay for the goods with silver, but rather with goods as payment."

"Offer a discount in kind?" Luo Yagu frowned.

"They use silk, porcelain, ironware, tea, and other such items to offset the payment. Of course, there are also some luxury goods," Sergei explained. "These items are difficult to price, and there are significant differences between the two sides. They've been arguing for almost a month now and haven't fully resolved the issue. Even if they do resolve it and the transaction is completed, the merchants will still have to transport these items to Luzon, Japan, or even Europe to realize their value."

"In other words," Luo Yagu frowned deeply, "the merchants now only have goods but no money?"

“It’s not that they have no money, but it’s definitely not much,” Sergei said. “And even if they did, it’s unlikely that they would come up with tens of thousands of taels of silver to buy land for us all at once.”

"Tsk," Luo Yagu didn't speak for a moment, but picked up his wine glass and took small sips of the braised meat on the plate. The rain outside the window was still drizzling, and the raindrops gathered and drew winding water marks on the window frame, blurring the muddy road outside the courtyard into a blurry black.

Sergei waited a moment, then broke the silence: "Rho, besides raising funds for the church, is there anything else you need to do in Beitang this time?"

“Of course,” Luo Yagu said, coming back to his senses. “Besides fundraising, the church also asked me to find those merchants to help send some letters back home.”

"Go back?" Sergei asked. "Is it sent back to Europe?"

“That’s right.” Luo Yagu slowly put down his wine glass and put a few more beans into his mouth.

"Where?" Sergei looked around. "Those letters."

"They're all in that box." Luo Yagu turned around and pointed to a large wooden box filled with letters and manuscripts next to the desk. Jiang Wei, who had been sitting leaning against the bed, saw Luo Yagu turn around and point, and asked, "Mr. Luo, do you want that box?"

Luo Yagu glanced at Sergei subconsciously, but in the end, he didn't ask for his opinion. He simply nodded and replied in Chinese, "I'd appreciate it if Master Jiang could help me move this."

"Okay." Jiang Wei rolled out of bed, effortlessly picked up the heavy wooden box, and carried it to the dining table. "Master Luo, where should I put it?"

"Just put it here." Luo Yagu pointed to the ground between himself and Sergei. "Thank you for your help."

"It was nothing, no need to thank me." Jiang Wei carefully put the wooden box down, then silently returned to the bedside and sat down, still as taciturn as ever.

Luo Yagu took a small brass key from his waist and clicked it open the lock hanging on the wooden box. He lifted the lid, revealing neatly stacked stacks of letters bound with thin hemp rope, as well as several piles of bound manuscripts. "Savic, that's all."

Sergei peered inside and his eyes widened slightly: "So many?"

“These are mostly private letters from our fellow believers to their families and friends; almost everyone wrote more than one.” Luo Yagu reached out and rummaged through the stack of letters closest to him, then patted the bound manuscript like a precious treasure. “In addition, there are some works we’ve recently translated, such as the Latin text of *The True Meaning of the Lord of Heaven* written by the late Master Matteo Ricci, the Chinese translation of *Genesis*, the Latin and Chinese texts of *Zuo Zhuan* (the eleventh year of Duke Yin), and the Latin and Chinese texts of *The Analects*. We originally wanted to ask a book engraver to make a set of printing blocks to send back, but we couldn’t find a craftsman willing to do it for us, so they are all copies. Except for the letters.”

Luo Yagu paused briefly, then said with a sigh, "...It's the official letter our Chinese church wrote to the Vatican and the European General Assembly."

“These official letters…” Sergei looked at the separate package following the direction: “Did they mention… that matter?”

“Of course.” Luo Yagu nodded solemnly: “It’s mainly about that matter.”

"What did they say?" Sergei knew Jiang Wei couldn't possibly understand their conversation, but he still couldn't help glancing at him. "How do Chairman Nikolai Trigo and the others plan to characterize this matter?"

Luo Yagu took a deep breath and slowly exhaled a Latin word that was enough to make one feel suffocated: "haeresiarcha (heresy)".

“haeresiarcha?” Sergei’s pupils contracted slightly, and his hand holding the wine glass froze in mid-air. Although he had a premonition, hearing those two words with his own ears still made his heart skip a beat.

Luo Yagu lowered her head and gave a very nasal "hmm".

"Was it really necessary to go this far?" Sergei pressed. "Was it the Emperor's request?"

“No, no.” Luo Yagu picked up his wine glass and drank the rest of the wine in one gulp. “The emperor did not make any requests. After the Embroidered Uniform Guard withdrew, he never gave the church any direct instructions again. He even approved a request from a Ministry of Justice official, allowing us to take their remains away for proper burial according to legal procedures.”

"Then why label Chairman Nicolo Longobaldi and his group as heretics?" Sergei frowned, his tone full of confusion.

Luo Yagu asked in a deep voice, "If we don't label them as heretics, how are we supposed to explain those things to the Vatican, and how are we supposed to show our attitude to His Majesty the Emperor?"

Sergei said, “To tell you the truth, as you just said, the Emperor did not ask us to label Chairman Nicolo Longobaldi and his group as heretics.”

“You’re oversimplifying things,” Luo Yagu said with a wry smile. “The emperor’s lack of decree doesn’t mean we don’t need to express our stance. The emperor is watching us closely. We must show him that we are harmless and loyal. Without the emperor’s support, we will be unable to move an inch.”

He paused, then added, "On the other hand, if we can build a decent church in the capital and continue to receive the support of the Chinese emperor, then our missionary work in China's tributary states such as Korea, Japan, Ryukyu, Siam, Annam, and Zhenla will flourish."

“That being said, I still feel this is wrong, at least it didn’t have to go this far!” Sergei shook his head, quite stubbornly saying, “President Nicolo Longobaldi is simply upholding pure doctrine. How can he be labeled a heretic?”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, that’s exactly how it should be done!” Luo Yagu looked at Sergei. “Have you heard the story of ‘pulling up seedlings to help them grow’?”

"Never heard of it," Sergei shook his head.

“This is a story from Mencius,” Luo Yagu explained. “It tells of a man from the State of Song who, more than two thousand years ago, about three hundred years before the birth of Jesus, was unhappy that his rice seedlings were not growing tall enough. So he went to the field and pulled each seedling upwards. He thought that this would make the seedlings grow taller, but before long, all the seedlings withered and died. This is what is meant by ‘not only is it useless, but it also harms them.’”

“You mean,” Sergei pondered, “that President Nicolo Longobaldi is that Song man, and our missionary work is like the seedlings in the field, and what he’s doing is ‘pulling up the seedlings to help them grow’?”

“Otherwise?” Luo Yagu said through gritted teeth, “Mark 4, verses 26-29: ‘The kingdom of God is like a man who sows seed on the ground. He sleeps at night and rises in the day, and the seed sprouts and grows, but the man does not know how it is done. The earth produces grain naturally. First it sprouts, then it grows ears, then it forms full grains on the ears. When the grain is ripe, it is brought to the ground with a sickle, for the harvest has come.’”

"Currently, the missionary work of the Holy Church in the Ming Dynasty is far from sprouting, growing ears, or harvesting; it's not even at the stage of sowing seeds, but merely clearing the land and reclaiming wasteland. Yet our President Nicolo Longobaldi is impatient for quick results and insists on forcing the seedlings to 'grow taller.' Isn't this contrary to the teachings of our Lord's Gospel and a departure from the path of heresy?"

“But…” Sergei wanted to say something more, but was interrupted by Luo Yagu raising his hand.

“There’s no ‘buts’!” Luo Yagu’s speech suddenly became rapid and urgent. “Our Lord’s teachings have never explicitly opposed Chinese ancestor worship. This practice is merely a commemorative and symbolic way to express a lasting desire to honor the deceased. When our relatives and friends pass away, don’t we also pray for them, hoping that they can find eternal rest in heaven?”

"As for the worship of 'Confucius,' 'Mencius,' and even 'Guan Yu,' it is by no means idolatry, but rather a commemoration of heroic figures. How is this any different from our commemoration of Saint Peter, Saint Andrew, Saint James, and Saint Sebastian? The actions of President Niccolò Longobaldi are a distortion of doctrine and a distortion of the teachings of our Lord. Aren't all that we have suffered before, and his own experiences, the best proof of our Lord's arrangement and his heretical status?!"

(End of this chapter)