* * *
On Tuesday morning, Count Ludwig Guenther opened the colloquy with the bland statement that since all views had now been given a sufficiently full and fair hearing, the morning would be free. He carefully failed to look at the Tuebingen delegation as he made the statement about a full hearing, for fear of observing any signs that there might be a contrary opinion. The afternoon, he stated, would be devoted to short summaries. He would permit four summaries only—each of the plaintiffs, the Philippists and the ELCA, might have one representative speak. Each of the opponents, the Flacians and the Missouri Synod, might have one representative speak. He would announce his decision in regard to St. Martin’s Wednesday morning. Wednesday afternoon and evening would be devoted to the closing ceremonies and a state dinner. Any delegates who lived near enough to Jena were encouraged to bring their gracious wives to the banquet. Please notify his steward of the number of attendees from each delegation. He smiled and rose.
The down-time delegations started to buzz. Who would snag the prestigious opportunity to serve as closing speaker for each position? They adjourned to squabble.
The up-time delegations didn’t have to wonder who would be speaking, since each delegation consisted of one person. Within ten minutes of the count’s rising, the only occupants of the anatomy theater were Carol, Gary, and Jonas, who was leaning against the chalk board, looking a little deprived at not having a full morning of multilingual page references ahead of him.
“What now?” he asked. He dropped his chalk into the holder and sat down.
“I sure wish that I had some idea what the count’s going to decide,” said Carol.
“Me, too,” said Gary. “But we don’t.”
Jonas looked at his pupils sternly. “Write! You’ve each got two hours to get down the basics of what you want to say. Then I’ve got one hour apiece to turn your English into German that says what you probably intended for it to say. Move it, guys.”
“I’ve already got mine written.” Gary started poking around in his pockets. “I knew this thing had to end some time.” He fished out a sheet of paper, neatly hand-printed on both sides. “The points are in order, and I’ve numbered them.” He handed it over to Jonas. “You can work on this now, while Carol’s writing, and then you’ll have more time for hers. I’ve got to go down to the printer’s.”
* * *
Gary Lambert believed, very sincerely, that he did not have the right words. If he had ever heard the maxim, “We are dwarfs, standing on the shoulders of giants,” he would have subscribed to it on the spot. For the time being, he would be content if he could just achieve one goal—to sound as much like his grandfather in the pulpit as possible.
Gesturing toward the door, he said: “I have brought printed copies of the speech upon which my words are based. There are enough copies for everyone here. If you need more copies, you are certainly all welcome to have it reprinted. It was made by a far greater man than I—by the first president of the Lutheran synod that it is my honor to represent here. His name was C.F.W. Walther and he spoke these words in 1848. He spoke them just over a century and a half before the intervention of God transported Grantville to this place and time.”
Gary glanced up at Count Ludwig Guenther a little nervously. The man had been good to him and had done many fine and commendable things for Grantville’s refugees.
“These words are also mine, and I’m glad that I can say them before the honorable Count of Schwarzburg-Rudolstadt announces the outcome of the colloquy. We don’t know, yet, what his decision will be in regard to the church of St. Martin’s. Yet, there is one thing that we do know. Whatever the decision is, it will have been taken by a secular prince—a Lutheran prince, but still, a secular prince. Because of that, whatever the decision may be, we must fear that it will not have been taken entirely upon the basis of Scriptural teaching. We must fear that it will have been influenced by considerations of political expediency and pragmatic necessity. That is the very nature of civil government.”