From the Archives

Francis Clement Kelley, second Bishop of the Diocese of Oklahoma, always believed that his involvement in solving the “Roman Question” was one of the highlights of his life.
 
What was the “Roman Question?” With the seizure by force of the Papal States (a temporal buffer zone established to protect the sovereignty of the pope) in 1870 by the Kingdom of Italy, seeking to nationalize the various countries that now make up Italy, the Holy Father declares himself a “prisoner of the Vatican” in protest. The government had failed to ensure the pope’s independence and this condition would persist until 1929.
 
How then did a bishop from a small rural diocese in the United States get the ball rolling to procure a solution? The answer is complex and reads like a spy novel. In 1919, Monsignor Kelley (he became a Bishop in 1924) travelled to the Paris Peace Talks after the First World War to represent the Mexican bishops in exile seeking a declaration on religious freedom. The Monsignor was the founder of the Catholic Church Extension Society and was spokesman for the Mexican bishops who were removed during the revolution in that country.
 
Three incidents contributed to his involvement: The first was a meeting with Cardinal Mercier, the primate of Belgium. Kelley was leading a group from the Knights of Columbus on a tour of the battlefields of the western front. At Malines, they secured an audience with the cardinal.
 
Mercier asked Monsignor Kelley about rural ministry, and Kelley, in perfect French, responded enthusiastically. Impressed by his narrative, Mercier, in private asked his thoughts on the Roman Question. Cardinal Mercier had worked hard to resolve the issue at the Paris conference but to no avail. He asked Kelley to arrange a meeting with President Wilson through his aid Colonel House, whom Kelley knew. Having done so, he believed his involvement to be complete.
 
However, this was not to be the end as the second circumstance occurred. Walking back from House’s hotel, he was accosted by Giuseppe Brambilla, an Italian counselor of the peace commission. Citing Wilson’s harsh treatment of the Italians, Brambilla stated that protests would be harsh in America against Wilson. Kelley’s reply was terse. He retorted that “as jailer of the pope,” Italy had lost the sympathy of the Catholic world. Brambilla proposed a direct meeting with Italian premier, Vittorio Orlando. Kelley was taken a back since he did have the authority as a diplomat.
 
The third incident was how to have the professional diplomats take command. Deciding to proceed, it became evident that Orlando was sincere in seeking a solution. Kelley contacted a friend in the Vatican who notified the troubleshooter of Cardinal Gasparri (Secretary of State), Archbishop Cerretti of the overtures. Kelley was to accompany Cerretti back to Paris to begin secret conversations with Premier Orlando. This ended Kelley’s activity.
 
Ten years past before the Lateran Concordat of 1929 was signed by Pope Pius XI and Mussolini, ensuring the independence of the papacy and the favored status of the Church in Italy. Kelley’s role was unknown until the Saturday Evening Post broke the story praising him for his work. Thankfully, it also showed that the process had begun before the Fascists took power, giving clarity that it was not the work of that government entirely.
 
Monsignor Gaffey, in his biography of Bishop Kelley adds this, “The final irony involved the recognition of Kelley’s service. In 1930, the Italian government named him a Knight of the Order of Saint Maurice and Saint Lazarus, the highest honorary rank bestowed on commoners.
 
The bishop quietly accepted the title, conscious of this ultimate twist in the history of the Roman Question: his efforts to free the cloistered papacy had been duly rewarded not by the Vatican, but by the Kingdom of Italy!” After he became a bishop and during a visit to Rome in 1931, he met Cardinal Gasparri who did not remember who he was. While painful, it would be one of many slights (real and perceived) that would plague his ecclesial career. In his biography, “A Bishop Jots It Down,” Kelley ends his account of the incident with the Latin phrase “Sic transit Gloria Mundi,” that is to say, “Thus passes the glory of the world.”