* * * *
Settling in for the evening, Father Hernandez recognized right away he would need to pray and confess the antagonism effervescing in his soul toward Michael. Michael’s presumed arrogance and knowledge of church doctrine irritated the priest immensely. Coupled with the decent condition of the room, which far exceeded the guest quarters in his parish, he couldn’t help feel a bit envious. The quarters were reminiscent of a well-kept, inexpensive motel room. The alabaster sheets were crisp and folded with hospital corners; two pillows appeared like clouds resting at the headboard, the light-brown-and-green paisley bedding set nicely rolled back. A polished wooden desk sat squarely in the corner. After closer inspection of the desk, what the Father thought might have been laminate-covered particleboard was actually solid wood, possibly even mahogany. Matching single-drawer nightstands, with open shelf space below, soldiered at each side of the bed. Atop each nightstand were small brass-based reading lamps with stained-glass lamp shades. How could this church afford such furnishings? Father Hernandez thought.
Perhaps the review of several verses in the Bible for his evening devotionals would help distract him from his mental transgressions. He opened his Bible to a random page, which was something he tried to do once a week to gather unique insights he might have never considered or might’ve forgotten over time. The Father opened the book to Genesis, chapter 12, the story of Abraham and the announcement of the blessings and cursing toward the nation Israel. It was strange that in the last couple of weeks, each time he did this providential exercise, whether in the Old or New Testament, the verses pointed to that nation and God’s purported protection of its people. It reminded him how his mentor’s boss, Cardinal Millhouse, maintained unsympathetic, if not hostile, views toward Israel, sometimes inferring God was finished with the nation in his grand plan for Jews in human history, a viewpoint that neither he personally nor his mentor Bishop Grielle agreed with. Father Hernandez considered this could have been one of the reasons Bishop Grielle frequently wasn’t made aware of many of the activities within the Diocese. Cardinal Millhouse’s subtle ostracizing of Bishop Grielle was well observed by many of the other priests under the Bishop’s tutelage. They were reserved in their true feelings, having no respect for the Bishop, believing he was one easily compromised on his ideals. Father Hernandez knew that with limited promotion possibilities, he would remain dedicated to his parish and the Church. The politics of the hierarchy or advancement wasn’t his concern. After an hour of reading and prayers, Father Hernandez called it an early night.
The Fallen and the Elect Page 33
