Chapter 70

Chapter 703,075 wordsCompleted

At the beginning of the school year the gymnasium director, Liudas Vasaris, is expected to conduct the traditional opening solemnities. He refuses, stating bluntly to the chapel’s chaplain and the association chairman that he has no obligation to celebrate Mass or deliver a sermon because his official role is purely secular. The chaplain argues that the rituals belong to the chapel’s domain, while the chairman expresses indignation at the director’s “rebellion.” Vasaris repeats that his previous failure as a priest—his talents mismatched the clerical requirements—has led him to abandon ecclesiastical duties and to live as an ordinary citizen.

The dispute escalates when the chapel staff demands that the director at least attend the services. Vasaris replies that he will not even be present, insisting that he wants the public to understand he is no longer a cleric but a civil man. He recounts a past mistake of entering the priesthood out of personal will rather than duty, and declares his determination to correct that error by fully separating from priestly obligations.

Later, Auksė confronts Vasaris in a private conversation. She challenges his claim that he cannot openly confess love for a woman, arguing that love is the highest communion of souls and that even a priest may love without shame. Vasaris admits deep embarrassment and fear: he worries that admitting his feelings would damage his reputation, bring scandal, and betray the vow of celibacy he once took. He reflects on the church’s conservative stance on marriage, the possibility of being condemned, and his own yearning for a family. The dialogue touches on the broader social context—conservative clergy, the law’s opposition to clerical marriage, and the lingering threat of public censure.

Vasaris recalls a recent public outcry over an ex‑priest who married a woman in America, which the Catholic hierarchy used as a cautionary tale against clerical unions. He uses this episode to justify his own stance, emphasizing that a priest who marries would become a target for scandal and institutional retaliation.

Shifting focus, Vasaris announces that he will devote himself to his literary pursuits. He describes finalising his drama, which has been accepted by the State Theatre for a Christmas‑season premiere. He participates in rehearsals, discusses staging with the director, and oversees costume design and musical accompaniment. The performance is described in vivid detail: a grand set with illuminated arches, choruses of men in flowing robes, battle scenes with choreographed swordplay, and a climactic choral hymn. The audience includes clergy, literary critics, university professors, and local officials. Reactions are mixed—some applaud the dramatic vigor and poetic language, while others criticize the lack of overt religious themes and warn that a priest‑author should not stray into secular theatrics.

After the curtain falls, Vasaris mingles with various figures. Professor Meškėnas offers a measured compliment but reminds Vasaris of his clerical responsibilities. Indrulis, a lawyer and frequent literary patron, praises the drama’s ambition but hints at potential political ramifications. The bishop, present among the dignitaries, gives a brief, cautious commendation, noting that Vasaris must still adhere to canonical norms. Auksė, visibly moved, confesses that the play’s emotional depth mirrors Vasaris’s inner turmoil, and gently encourages him to consider a life where love and art are not mutually exclusive.

The chapter ends with Vasaris alone in his study, reflecting on the tension between his public success as a playwright, his lingering affection for Auksė, and the institutional pressures to remain a celibate cleric. He acknowledges that his visibility has grown, forcing him to decide whether to reaffirm his priestly vows, to seek marriage and a civilian future, or to abandon the church altogether in favour of a fully artistic vocation.