Saints Will Be Sinners

     The silence of the Church had always comforted Father McGowan, but not tonight. The usual Friday night prayers had been said, and the usual Friday night followers had gone home.

     Soon the noises would start.

     His Church was one of the largest in the area, but then again the area probably needed the most help he'd ever seen. Father McGowan watched the people come to his special Friday night services. He also watched them go at the end of his service. He knew full well they would head straight for the bars, motels, and houses of ill repute, but he still believed in his work.

     Father Jacob McGowan believed God had led him here to make a difference. He believed that God believed in him to be able to make a difference. He knew that even though he did not see a difference that it would be there. It would be waiting even after his passing from the earth. In this, he put his whole-hearted faith. Because he was once not only one of the sinners of the town, a visitor to the bars and patron of the ladies of the night. No, before he found Jesus, he had been much worse.

     The large tower clock struck eleven, even though it was now a quarter til one. It hadn't worked right since the storm of the summer of '87. Lightning had struck it late in the night. Repairmen took their turns trying to fix it. No problem was ever found, and no solution had ever worked.

     Father McGowan knelt before the altar as he did every Friday night before retiring to his room. He prayed for guidance as he selected the passages for Sunday's sermon. He also prayed that his selected message would touch someone who really needed it. He prayed with full concentration and full strength until one a.m. was upon him.

     True faith does not tire.

     At one thirty, he read the passages he had chosen for the final time. He looked up at the huge stained glass window. The crucified image of Christ seemed to smile down upon him. Father McGowan turned his gaze upon the altar. Identical images made of wood, also looked, almost smiling, down upon him. A warm rush filled him as he rose. This was the week, he was to make a difference. Father McGowan turned and walked up the aisle. He felt as if he had just received the ultimate blessing. Never in his life had his faith made him feel this good.

     The Father had just passed the last pew, when the first small explosion was heard. Jacob turned and watched as the candles were bursting on the altar as if they were actually firecrackers in disguise. One by one they burst, until the altar was bare.

     Father McGowan ran back up the aisle only to be floored by the power and debris of a powerful explosion.

     As Jacob looked up, only half of the large cross altar was still standing, and the crucified image of Jesus that had just smiled upon him, shattered from the waist up. Jacob stood up, ready to defend his church!

     "Who has trespassed unto the House of the Lord?"

     "House of the Lord? Ha ha ha..."

     The laughter seemed to come from all directions surrounding the Father. The words had been deep, but the laughter was shrill and painful.

     "I am the only 'Lord' in this house! Ha ha ha..."

     Jacob thumbed through the Bible. Hands shaking so fiercely, he could hardly hold the book. He had heard the voice before, and knew the demon that was here for him.

     "As long as thy faith is pure, no evil shall touch thee, no harm shall come to thee, and no power in Hell shall turn thee from the path. No fear can..."

     "Save it, Jacob. Save it for those weaklings who call themselves 'followers'. Save it for them, Jacob. For as they suffer and die, I shall feed on their souls just as I shall feed on yours!"

     "I shall fight you, demon! As the Lord is my shield and his Word, my sword! You cannot win!"

     "Thou shall call me by my proper name, because I am and always have been your 'Lord'."

     Jacob stood silent, not knowing what to say, His hands shook violently. The Church seemed to change and shift to scenes many years in Jacob's past. The pews disappeared and a pentagram appeared on the floor. The stained glass window changed from Jesus to Baphomet. The wind howled as the Church was now completely dissolving into a cave which Jacob had tried hard to forget.

     Father McGowan turned around to view a man in a robe, kneeling over a baby. The baby cried as the man stroked it's forehead. Another man stood by the right wall. He held a young girl who was screaming.

     "No! Don't harm it! Please, let it live! Nooooooo!", the girl pleaded.

     The word echoed through the cave, as the first man plunged a dagger into the baby's chest. Again and again, the knife fell. The girl broke loose, running hysterically toward the scene before her. The girl was stopped dead in her tracks, as the man had turned plunging the dagger deep in her throat.

     Father McGowan felt the ugliness and evil coursing strong through his veins! Tears came to his eyes. For the man with the dagger had just killed his own daughter.

     The man with the dagger had been him!

     Jacob wept as he stood there. White knuckles shown brightly as he clutched tightly the Book of his Faith. The pain of sorrow filled his heart. It had been a long time ago, but he had not forgotten his actions or his loss.

     "Without me, you would have no faith, Jacob!"

     Jacob looked up to find the voice that had brought him out of the memory nightmare. He found himself back at the Church. From one nightmare to another he thought.

     "Without me, you would have no God, Jacob!"

     "No, it's not true." ,Jacob wept.

     "I would be your 'Lord'!"

     "Jesus, please..."

     "He has not forgiven you, you know."

     "What...?", through the tears Jacob cried.

     "He knows what you've done and He sees you for what you...."

     "I have Faith!"

     "YOU HAVE NOTHING THAT I HAVE NOT GIVEN YOU! YOU ARE MY CREATION! YOU GAVE ME YOUR SOUL! YOU SHALL SERVE ME!!!"

     The walls of the Church shook, the windows cracked, and the smaller statues fell. Father McGowan held his ears. The words echoed through his head. He looked down at his Bible. A tear came to his eye.

     "Like hell I will."

     A strange silence fell upon the Church.

     "I may have lost my soul! I have lost my daughter! But I have Faith! You hear me! I BELIEVE IN THE LORD! NOT EVEN YOU CAN TAKE THAT FROM ME! YOU CAN'T TAKE..."

     Windows exploded into the Church. Figurines and paintings burst into flame. Pews started exploding row by row. Deadly debris and flame filled the air.

     Father McGowan held the Bible with both hands, as the explosions knocked him to the floor. He closed his eyes and prayed with all his conviction.

     When the fury was over, the inside of the Church was destroyed. The only thing standing was the remains of the large cross altar. The rest was debris.

     Jacob lifted his head. His face cut by glass and wracked with pain. Still, he was alive. He gave a prayer of thanks for his life. His Church was in shambles, but it didn't matter. He had won. He was still alive!

     Jacob moved his hands up through the debris. In one hand was the Bible; in the other was a section of stained glass window. The face of Jesus smiled at him.

     Newly enlightened, Father McGowan decided to get up and look around. Pain ran through his legs. He reached down only to find the jagged edge of a board that had pierced through his right leg and stuck into the floor. He screamed out in pain. One thought filled his head...

     "Jesus walks with us, where all others fear to tread!"

© George F. Wykert 1989