Life of Being a Crown Prince in France - Chapter 1437 - 1343: An Archbishop Must Be Learned

Chapter 1437: Chapter 1343: An Archbishop Must Be Learned

The church leaders watched as Archbishop Brienne coughed violently, nearly collapsing. They hurried forward to help him back to bed, urging him to discuss matters only after he recovered.

Meanwhile, at the Saint Prodo Brothers Monastery in Eastern Paris, Archbishop of Blois faced his theology exam retake.

Four priests joined him in retaking the exam, but for the sake of the Archbishop’s dignity, he was allowed to answer the questions alone in the rector’s office.

In truth, Archbishop of Blois viewed the assessment with disdain. His theology scores had been among the top in all of France’s seminaries back in his day, and he frequently authored works on the Bible, marking him as a typical academic-style cleric.

He was determined to rally against the committee dispatched by the Holy See once he achieved outstanding results in the assessment.

Soon, two examiners placed the exam paper before him and bowed politely, saying, “You have two hours to complete them, esteemed Archbishop. If you require anything, feel free to instruct us.”

The Archbishop of Blois ignored them and glanced at the first question.

[In your hearts, revere Christ as holy, and always be prepared to answer those who ask you the reason for your hope with gentleness and respect. _____]

He immediately smiled; this was a passage from the New Testament – First Peter. He adeptly picked up his pen and continued — keeping a clear conscience, so that those who slander your good conduct in Christ…

“The Holy See dares to question the theological level of the French Church.”

He snorted lightly and swiftly answered the first seven questions.

All of it was content from the scriptures, presenting no challenge for him.

The Archbishop of Blois turned the first page of the exam paper, estimating he could complete the assessment in 40 minutes, but suddenly froze.

The question read: [Briefly describe the climate and characteristics of the natives around the Allegheny Mountain in North America.]

He immediately looked at the examiner standing by and asked, “Did you bring the wrong exam paper?”

The latter peeked over, smiled, and shook his head: “No mistake, Your Grace. This question was drafted by the Holy Father himself.”

“The Bible doesn’t mention any of this!” Archbishop of Blois said angrily, “Why should I know anything about some mountain?!”

Another examiner politely explained, “It’s necessary, as Father Vigne’s missionary efforts in North America have gained more than a hundred thousand devoted followers for the Holy See.

“The Holy Father says that without understanding the geographical and demographic situations worldwide, how can we achieve such remarkable missionary success?”

Archbishop of Blois was speechless, nearly blurting out, “I’m not likely to go out and preach,” but he managed to hold back.

After all, Father Vigne’s achievements were too dazzling, and missionary work remained one of the Catholic Church’s most crucial missions.

Archbishop of Blois skipped the eighth question, thinking that as long as he answered 80% correctly, he could pass; an outstanding result was not necessary.

However, the ninth question made him dizzy again.

[What are the limitations and inadequacies of Thomas Aquinas’s four principles of natural law?]

He only knew Aquinas was a great philosopher who lived 600 years ago, whose thought combined Aristotle’s philosophy with theology, constructing the framework of Thomism.

His philosophy scores in school were decent, but his studies mainly focused on more cutting-edge theories like Descartes and Spinoza, not much on Aquinas.

This time, Archbishop of Blois did not protest to the examiners, because Aquinas’s philosophical theories are closely related to theology, for example, he proposed “Five Ways” to prove God’s existence.

Archbishop of Blois racked his brain, couldn’t write out even the “Four Principles,” and had to skip again.

The next question was about the laws of celestial movement.

This time, he couldn’t contain himself and almost shouted, “Why are there astronomy questions?!”

“Please calm down,” the examiner said in Latin, “As a qualified priest, you have an obligation to shield the church from impacts like Copernicus’s, and this first requires enough theoretical knowledge.”

The two-hour exam soon ended, and Archbishop of Blois stormed out of the rector’s office, his face ashen.

Aside from the scripture content on the first page, he hardly answered a single question correctly, estimating that he didn’t even achieve a 40% completion rate.

He saw two priests who came for the retake with him laughing cheerfully, seemingly having performed well. He stopped them in surprise and asked, “Do you know what Thomas Aquinas’s natural law four principles are?”

“Uh, no, Your Grace.”

“How does Kant-Lapras’s nebular hypothesis explain the formation of the solar system?”

Both shook their heads vigorously: “We’ve never heard of it…”

“How did you complete the assessment?”

“Huh? What does that have to do with the assessment?”

“You didn’t have those questions either?”

“??” The two priests exchanged a puzzled glance, “We didn’t have those questions, Your Grace.”

“How is that possible? What was your exam?”

“Content from the New Testament and Old Testament…”

Archbishop of Blois was furious, charging towards the examiners like a bull seeing a red cloth, loudly questioning why his exam questions were different from the others’.

“Please calm down,” the examiner said unhurriedly, “The questions for different clerical positions vary, Your Grace. The higher the position, the greater the difficulty. It showcases your profound knowledge.”

Joseph certainly would not trouble the lower echelons of the clergy; it was the priests and archbishops at this level who were his targets.

The next day, the second round of the church committee’s assessments began.

Simultaneously, the results of the first round were released, revealing that, including Archbishop of Blois and three priests, a total of six had failed the retake.

Archbishop of Blois was informed through various channels that the committee was likely to send a mentor from Rome to supervise him in studying theology thoroughly.

Both he and the few priests who failed the retake felt as if the sky was about to fall, hurriedly seeking Archbishop Beaumont and others to discuss strategies.

However, by this time, almost all the high-ranking clerics knew about the terrifying assessments, thus they began desperately cramming various philosophies, astronomy, geography, and even medicine, having no spare time to bother with him.

As for Robespierre’s proposal to take over the tithe, it had long been forgotten.

During this period, the Ministry of Finance quietly approved the tax bureau’s application to establish a “Tithe Office.”

When the second round of assessments knocked down two more archbishops, Brienne finally, with frequent visits from church leaders, managed to recover his health.

But his frail body couldn’t endure the loud noise of a train, forcing him to take a carriage to Baden.

When he finally wobbled into Strasbourg, he received the news that the Crown Prince had already dealt with the Kail Railway Bridge matter and might be heading to Cologne.