The Bishop & the Grocer

In the ancient Tuscan town of Prato brawny Grocer Mauro Bellandi, 33, has long been known as a Communist sympathizer, an atheist, and a vigorous critic of the Roman Catholic Church. But it was not until a year ago last August, when he made his fiancee Loriana Nunziati promise that she would not insist on a church wedding, that his opinions landed, him in trouble. On the very day that Grocer Bellandi was married by Prato's Communist mayor, greying, lantern-jawed Pietro Fiordelli. bishop of Prato, ordered the priest of Santa Maria del Soccorso to read to his parishioners an outraged denunciation of the couple and their marriage.

Scandalous Concubinage. "Socalled civil matrimony for two baptized people," said the bishop, "is absolutely not matrimony, but only the beginning of scandalous concubinage. Mauro Bellandi is a public sinner and Loriana Nunziati is a public sinner." Since Loriana's parents had permitted "this immensely sinful and scandalous step, holy water at Easter shall be denied them."

To Mauro Bellandi, the bishop's outburst was not only a blow to his own "honor, dignity and reputation"; it was an insult to his wife and her parents as well. What was worse, business fell off at his store, and he began receiving abusive anonymous letters. That fall Bellandi brought civil suit for damage against both the bishop and his priest, and the state added its own charges of criminal libel.

The case of the bishop and the grocer quickly became the talk of all Italy. For the first time since it was signed by the Holy See and the Italian government in 1929, the Lateran Agreement, which regulates "the conditions of religion and of the Church in Italy," was under legal test. The agreement's Concordat guarantees the clergy complete freedom in ecclesiastical matters. But where does that freedom end and the clergy's civil responsibilities begin? In food queues and at cocktail parties the argument raged. When Bellandi, an alumnus of Buchenwald, suffered a severe cerebral hemorrhage, his partisans cried out that this was the result of persecution. But the bishop's followers had another explanation. "The hand of God," said one Florentine, "has struck this man down."

Canon Law v. Constitution. Last week, in the trial in Florence's tribunal court, the debate became more bitter than ever. Declaring himself "responsible only to my conscience as bishop, to the Pope and to God," the bishop refused to attend the trial on the basis that no civil court had jurisdiction over "an act of my spiritual power." The press crackled with indignation. "Here," cried the Communist L'Unita, "we see the church demanding the supremacy of Canon Law over our Constitution." Added the conservative Corriere della Sera: "If even for one moment we should admit this principle, the entire clergy would become a privileged class without the obligations of ordinary citizens."

As a mob jammed the piazza outside the Palazzo del Tribunale, the trial began without the bishop, for in such a case Italian law permits a person to be tried in absentia. "We have only one reputation," Mauro Bellandi's lawyers told the three judges enthroned beneath the court's great crucifix, "and if someone offends it, according to the laws of the state, he must be punished. It is no justification that the defamation comes from a bishop." Asked Bellandi's young wife from the witness stand: "Must I tolerate being called my husband's concubine?"

Dual Reputation. The bishop's lawyers retorted that, in the light of Canon Law, the term was wholly justified. There is a difference, they argued, between a civil and a religious reputation, and the bishop had been concerned only with the religious. Meanwhile the public prosecutor had stepped in to state the government's position. The bishop, argued the prosecutor, was clearly guilty of "culpable excess." But since "there was no intent to injure," he should not be punished.

The prosecutor's argument, commented a Roman lawyer, was "a masterpiece of political reality." It seemed to be a most happy solution to the Christian Democratic government's delicate dilemma--how to retain liberal support by reprimanding the bishop while at the same time keeping church support by asking for acquittal. But the judges of Florence did not accept this face-saving formula.

While acquitting the priest (who acted only on orders), they found the bishop guilty of criminal defamation, ordered him to pay court costs plus $673 in damages to Bellandi, his mother and his wife. They also slapped a $64.50 fine on him, which they suspended for five years on condition of good behavior.

The bishop can appeal. But the fact remains that he is the first clergyman since 1929 to be tried by a secular court. Crowed the left-wing Avanti!: "Liberty has won. The sentence of Florence proves that the law is equal for all." Most Italians agreed. Said the bishop himself: "I am serene. Remember that Jesus Christ died on the Cross." And in Bologna,

Cardinal Giacomo Lercaro solemnly ordered his churches in mourning for this "insupportable affront to the dignity of the church."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.