by Rob Mclean
“Thank you John,” Pastor Greg turned and gave him a wry smile. “It was, wasn’t it?” The audience snickered appreciatively and Christie gave him a playful slap on the back as she laughed. Angela just shook her head and gave him a pitying smile.
“But on a more serious note,” Pastor Greg continued, the smile fell from his face as he turned back to face his congregation. Angela saw him slide his folder of notes to the side and take off his reading glasses before clearing his throat.
“Throughout history, the Church has always thrived during times of hardships and war and it seems that today with so many of you here,” he paused to spread his arms wide to encompass all the people before him, “that is no exception.”
“With the uncertainty regarding our alien visitor and their reaction to the Iranian attack, we are all understandably concerned about any possible reprisals. It is times like this, when war and death loom, that we become aware of our fragile mortality and how precious life is.”
In the stillness of the congregation, Angela’s breathing felt loud in her ears.
“I am happy and honoured to be here today before you, to lead you during what must be, one way or another, the Last Days.” His audience murmured while he paused and carefully folded his glasses and put then into his shirt pocket.
“Either the alien is a modern-day manifestation of the Devil, come to lead the people of the world astray before the return of Christ, or it is part of an advanced civilisation that demands the dissolution of this church and all others on Earth, as part of admission to the greater galactic community.
“While many across this great nation and indeed across the world, are still not sure which of these it really is, the fact is either way, the time this church has left is fast running out.”
His words were met with protests from many; their grumblings and murmurings erupted spontaneously. Many more silently nodded their grim acceptance, having their fears and worries confirmed. However, a large number simply didn’t react. It may have been that they hadn’t given a thought about the consequences of the alien’s arrival now that it had been spelled out for them, they were simply too stunned to react. They had a blend of bewildered disbelief and denial written on their faces.
The Pastor waved down their complaints and waited for the noise level to drop. People shushed each other and it wasn’t long before all faces were looking to their Pastor to hear what more he had to say.
“It is unavoidable, I’m afraid. This church, in its current form, will not exist for much longer.” He held up his hand, his finger pointing towards the heavens, reminding his audience of the real power behind the church.
“But, that does not mean that we have to fade away and go quietly into the night.” His words echoed in the absolute silence they created. Angela could see the multitude of thoughts playing across the upturned faces as they ruminated on the Pastor’s words.
“Those of you who have heard my earlier sermons would already know, that it is my personal belief that this alien is the AntiChrist. He has come to us in a socially acceptable, politically palatable form, but it is still the servant of Satan.” Exaltations of faith erupted from the crowd’s dark grumblings in the form of ‘hallelujahs’ and ‘amens’.
“If that is the case, then that means that the day of our Lord’s return is drawing near…” This time Angela joined in the chorus of hallelujahs. She briefly wondered what John would be thinking, but then decided that she didn’t care. God would always be more important to her. God would always be there for her.
“… which is a good thing,” the Pastor added with a smile, amid the cheers and cries of worship. The congregation rode the surge of fellowship, collectively like a surfer catching the ultimate wave. He waited a few moments while they all savoured the feeling of exultation, before calling them to join him in the next song of worship.
The words of ‘The Days of Elijah’ appeared on the screens. Angela thought John would like this one too. It was a song with strong, rousing, prophetic lyrics with an easy catchy tune; the perfect choice to match the mood of the congregation, especially in light of the Pastor’s words.
As the music started and they launched into song, Angela felt the familiar stirrings in her heart. By the time they were into the first chorus, her eyes were closed, her face upturned and her body swaying. Lost in a sweet rapture, her spirit soared, reaching out, yearning to be with her Lord. She felt the radiant love of God shine down on her as a welcoming glow. She visualised the heavenly light pouring down upon her like a column of brilliance than was repeated with every person in the church. Yes God, even Zeke and his parents; please God, bless them too. With that distraction out of the way, she went back to basking in God’s light.
By the time the reaffirming words ‘there is no God like Jehovah’ were being repeated, her arm was waving in time with her body. She knew the song was coming to an end and it always saddened her a little to have to leave this blissful state of mind, this brief foretaste of what Heaven might be like. After the song ended and the notes faded, she kept her eyes closed, just to savour any lingering feeling.
“Indeed, these are the days of Elijah” The Pastor quietly nodded his agreement. It seemed to Angela that he didn’t want to banish the mood, but had to deliver his message to the congregation. “These are the days of great trials,” he spoke the words from the song, his words grave and solemn. “Of famine and darkness and sword.” He let the words wash over the people before continuing.
“Interesting days indeed.” He gave thanks to Angela and the rest of the singers before continuing his sermon.
“Following the tragedy that befell Cairo, the United Nations has proposed a referendum be held.” Again the murmurings of the congregation rose like an angry tide. The Pastor didn’t wait for it to subside.
“I know that it is not something I would wish for, but in their haste to appease the ‘aliens’, the U.N. is literally falling over themselves to atone for the Iranian’s attack.” The tide of grumblings swelled higher.
“But there is a greater force in this universe that our law-makers have forgotten about. Despite whatever they may legislate or decree, don’t forget people…” he paused and held up both his hands to the audience, palms facing outwards. His fingers curled closed until just his index fingers were left pointing to the ceiling. “…that we have the backing of our supreme Creator, which will always trump any Earthly laws anyone can make.” The congregation shouted its support.
From across the stage, she heard Zeke call out “Hell yeah!” She could tell that this sort of sermon would really appeal to his more militant, old-testament version of scripture.
“Don’t ever forget that in the days to come,” the Pastor warned as the audience applauded.
The Pastor took a sip of water and half-heartedly sifted through his notes while the congregation settled down. He again pushed them aside, preferring instead to pace across the stage.
He kept his head down while he walked, looking like he was talking to himself. “Early this morning, I heard that the Democrats have given their full support to the U.N. proposal.”
Again the crowd reacted to his unforeseen news, but he had his arms up to placate them so he could continue.
“Now this was probably something that could have been predicted and yet could all be part of God’s plan, but I feel that it is only the start of many changes to come.” He kept waving the crowd down and didn’t wait for their compliance before going on. He just raised his voice to make himself heard.
“We all know our President to be a God-fearing Republican and that is why many of us voted for her. I feel certain that she will be doing everything in her considerable power to look after her fellow believers.” The crowd burst into applause. The Pastor acknowledged them briefly with a nod. However he didn’t pause long before cutting over them.
“But she does not have the full support of her party. Within the Republican ranks are the hard-headed business people who see the alien’s offers of technolo
gy as opportunity. Moreover, they see the United States falling behind, if we don’t accept their offer. In short, we cannot count on deliverance from our President.”
The discordant rumblings from the congregation threatened to drown him out. He waited patiently while the people vented their feelings amongst themselves. After a few moments they became still, their faces turned expectantly towards him, like hatchlings waiting to be fed. Angela knew she would find it almost impossible to minister to the needs of such a large congregation. She had to both admire and wonder how Pastor Greg did it. If he felt any burden of this responsibility, he didn’t show it.
“In the difficult times that I feel are certain to come, you have to ask yourselves what it means for you to be a Christian. You will be ostracised. You will be shunned and even ridiculed for your beliefs.” He cast his eyes about the auditorium, scrutinising the crowd.
“But that is nothing new. Christians have endured more than that before and are currently suffering in other parts of the world as we speak. However, what I see ahead could be far worse.”
“If the alien is just an alien, then we may be allowed to live our lives in some sort of enclave, a religious reserve, if you will. Probably similar to how the Amish live now. Separate from the world, a sort of novelty. We might even become an interstellar tourist attraction; right alongside a zoo of curious and unique Earthly animals.” He allowed himself a wry smile before continuing.
“But, that scenario, I feel quite sure, is not how it will happen. If, as is my belief, the alien is truly the AntiChrist then he will not be satisfied to have us living peacefully segregated from the rest of the world. No, he will not rest until his master rules this Earth. He will seek to have us all eliminated. Every last believer in Christ would be put to death.”
Stillness filled the room as the people contemplated their futures. Angela could see the fear and worry transforming the faces of those she knew. She wanted to reach out and reassure them all, but in her heart she harboured the same fears. In these difficult times ahead, she knew that Zeke, with his Christian beliefs would be the better man to be with, to be right with God, but she felt more secure and physically safe with John by her side in the here and now.
“So, I have to ask you, the people of this Church; what are you willing to sacrifice for your beliefs? What hardships are you willing to endure for your Lord?” He let his question hang. He let them work out for themselves the changes they might have to make if they wanted to continue to walk with God. Angela could see a mixture of expressions; some resolute and firm, but many more worried and disturbed.
“I know that I don’t have to remind you of the love God showed us by sending His only son to carry our sins. Nor of the ultimate sacrifice that His son, Jesus made for all of us.” His words were met with calls of ‘hallelujah’ and ‘amen’ but many of the congregation remained silent, lost in their own thoughts.
“Please be up-standing for our last song of worship,” the Pastor said as the words of ‘It’s all about you’ appeared on the screens. A gentle song of devotion that dove-tailed with his message of loyalty to God, reinforcing what was expected of his flock. Although everyone sang the song, Angela saw that some were more accepting than others of what was being asked of them. She was proud to see that her parents appeared willing to stay devoted to God.
At the end of the song, Pastor Greg again thanked the band and the singers with the applause of the congregation. He then blessed everyone and wished them a safe and thoughtful week. He may have sensed the unwillingness of some of his flock, so he ended his sermon with the reminder that “There should be no task too great that God can ask of his followers.”
With that, the lights came up all around the auditorium. People blinked, stood and stretched. They looked dazed and momentarily disorientated before they started to move about and talk amongst themselves.
Angela turned to John. “How was it for you?” she asked with an exaggerated look of innocence. She shot a glance and a smile at Christie, who grinned back.
“What a performance,” Christie said, playing along. She clapped both her hands on John’s back, laughing at his discomfort. Angela joined in; ignoring the ire she would be getting from Zeke and his family.
“Yeah, it was cool.” John tried for an aloof, indifferent look, but the corners of his eyes crinkled as a grin cracked his façade. Angela gave him a big hug, not caring who saw them. All the same, she didn’t look to see if Zeke was watching.
She took John’s hand and led him off stage. They unhooked themselves from the sound system, left Christie with the microphones and made their way back to her parents.
Clarice greeted them with an uncharacteristic smile. “That was well done,” she said, embracing Angela. “Both of you,” she added, extending her smile to John.
John stared and blinked. Angela could imagine him thinking ‘who are you and what have you done with the real Clarice?’ but instead he managed to stumble out his thanks.
Her father wasn’t so kind, “What he lacks in talent,” he said in a dry drawl, “he makes up for with volume.”
“Now Geoffrey,” her mother chided, “He wasn’t that bad.” Angela wondered if her mother’s good spirits were an after-effect of the sermon. Angela often came away feeling buoyant and spiritually uplifted after a good sermon. But whatever it was, she was just happy that her mother was in a good mood.
“Nothing that a few singing lessons wouldn’t fix,” Clarice added, patting John’s arm and giving him an assassin’s smile.
By an unspoken agreement, they waited for the majority of the people to leave, rather than try to push through the crowds. Angela kept an eye out for Zeke. She didn’t expect him to confront them, it wasn’t his style. He preferred to find the stones for others to throw; all the same she kept a wary vigilance. John must have sensed her unease. He laid his solid arm on her shoulders and drew her into a protective side-hug.
Clarice also glanced about. If she was uncomfortable about John’s public display of affection, she didn’t hide it well. “It was a good sermon,” she said in a bright tone, at odds with her fidgeting.
“You always like the doom and gloom ones,” Geoffrey said, craning his neck from his wheelchair. “Think the crowd’s thinning out?”
“Well, people need to be reminded. They get complacent when times are good.” She addressed her comments squarely at John, sounding to Angela like a mini-sermon of her own. “Some hardships will be good for their faith. It’ll sort out the real believers from the C & E’s”
Angela didn’t have to look at John’s face to know he would need a translation. “She means people who only go to church on Christmas and Easter.”
“Oh,” John’s head bobbed with understanding. “Second class Christians?”
“Yes, but not that we judge others.” Angela slid a look at her mother.
“Now don’t get all sassy with me young lady. We’ll all be getting judged when we meet our Lord.”
Angela couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She had heard this lecture many times before. It had been the backbone of many of her mother’s tirades throughout her upbringing.
“Don’t give me that look. You won’t be so smart-alecky then.”
“I think we can get going now,’ Geoff said unlocking the brakes of his wheelchair.
Clarice took the handles and pushed with a vigour that matched her words. “When we’re all standing before God on the Day of Judgement, we’ll all be begging for His forgiveness…”
“Why?” John asked, interrupting her rising swell of righteousness. She stared at him open mouthed.
“I mean you’ve all been good Christians right?” He shrugged. “You should have nothing to worry about.”
Clarice closed her mouth and pressed her lips together. Angela could see dozens of replies vying for a voicing and she knew that if they weren’t in public, her mother would most likely let fly with some unvarnished assessment of John’s theological naivety, but instead, she pressed her lips together
even tighter into a sour frown. Her eyes became slits and she replied, “I suppose you might be right.”
John squeezed Angela tighter. He had a happy with himself expression, which Angela was sure her mother didn’t miss, Again she was thankful that they were in a public place.
“He might be a God of love,” Clarice wagged a finger at them, “but don’t you ever forget to fear God as well.”
“Fear God? I thought it was the Devil you were supposed to fear.”
“Satan’s powers are nothing compared with God’s. He has all the power in creation, including the power to snuff out your life in an instant, if He should wish.” She grunted a harrumph to reinforce her warning, to trumpet a conclusion to her insurmountable argument and to signal the end of the conversation.
Angela knew her mother well enough to know that she had finished explaining things nicely. She placed her finger over John’s lips to discourage him from winding her up any further. It was his turn to act innocent, but he complied by pressing his lips against her finger in a kiss.
They made no more conversation as they wheeled their way towards the door. Angela was glad that the morning had gone so well. She had seen Zeke and although he looked sulky, he had left them alone. She was trying to work out how she felt about that. Did he think that she would be the one to come meekly back to him, asking him to take her back? Couldn’t he see how happy she was with John? Didn’t he know that he was supposed to be trying harder to win her back, not ignoring her?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the vision of Zeke’s parents glaring at her. Her insides clenched when she saw them start walking over towards her. A flurry of panic rose in her chest as her heart raced. She didn’t need to deal with them, not now.
“Mom?” Angela began, trying to think of a way of avoiding Zeke’s parents.
“Yes dear?” Her mother had a dreamy look about her as if she had been lost in her own thoughts.
