Fate Of The Dragon

by Richard Lovegood

  I pull into the parking lot of the church, and park my car next to Jeffers’ car. He likes to park right next to the staff door, and he kindly leaves me the space adjacent to the handicap ramp. There are no indicators that where I usually park is a handicap spot, per se. I think if I remember correctly that it used to be at some point. However, this lot has been repaved three times since I have been at this church. Since then, the paving company has not painted the familiar blue symbol with a wheelchair emblem. I get out of my car, and make my way inside. I am really glad that I dressed before getting here, because it saves so much time.

  I walk down the hallway that is laden with scarlet carpet, and dark walnut stained walls. Hand painted pictures fill the walls in beautiful symmetry. Each painting is a depiction of the Old Testament storyline. It starts with the Garden of Eden, then the flood, Moses on Mount Sinai, the fall of Jericho, the prophets, David and Goliath, and then ending with Solomon in his temple, upon his throne of gold. The ceiling is arched with a hand painted mural of the crucifixion, and tells the whole story from one end of the hallway to the other. If you were to start at the door from the parking lot, you would see Jesus kneeling in prayer in the garden of Gethsemane. From there it moves to Jesus being arrested, and into the court of the high priest with a guard striking him across the face. After that is an outdoor setting with the entire Sanhedrin leading Jesus, now bound with ropes, to Pontius Pilate. If you look closely in this segment, you can see Judas hanging himself off in the distance. Next is the outside court where Jesus was whipped and scourged. From there it blends to the brief scene of Him being dressed in a robe and a crown of thorns. It’s funny how all the Roman guards look alike; especially the one doing the scourging. He is the same one who makes and forces the crown of thorns onto Jesus’ head. I wonder if it was the same guy. Maybe the painter became bored…or lazy. No, the detail of the overall mural would be lacking towards the end. Next you see Jesus with the cross on His back, the crowd on either side with anger in their faces, and hands in tight fists as He trudges through the streets. Lastly, as you reach the end of the hall, you see the whole crucifixion scene. Right above the door is Calvary where the three crosses appear, with Jesus front and center. Extra detail was given so that Jesus seems to be coming out of the ceiling. On one arched side, you see the jeering crowds of people pointing their fingers and grinding their teeth. Mary, John, and three other women are in front of this crowd, weeping as they look upon the cross. Directly behind them is the entire council of the chief priests, some of which are encouraging the crowd to yell. On the other arched side, you see the Roman guards armed to the teeth with battle ready garments and weaponry. The foremost guard holds the spear that pierced the side of Jesus, dripping with blood and water. If you study it closer, this is the same one who held the scourging whip, and the one who made the thorn crown. However, he looks sad in this one.

  The hallway leads directly to the sanctuary. There are only a few doors that are in between the paintings on the wall. One leads to our main library, one is my office, one is Jeffers’ office, there is a set of restrooms, a secretarial office, and finally a lounge with slightly comfy couches and a coffee table in the center. That room used to have a wide variety of snacks inside a big cabinet. Lots of little yummy treats filled it from top to bottom. Not anymore though. Ever since Jeffers came and practically took over, the huge cabinet is gone, and all that remains is a refurbished counter top, new sink, and new cabinet space underneath. There is a coffee pot and a set of small plastic drawers next to it that contain all of the necessary items that come with a normal coffee setting: coffee grounds, single serving creamers, sugar packets, and stir straws. All of the cups are down below along with the bulk cases of napkins. There is a tiny refrigerator that is beneath the countertop, just to the right of the sink. This holds the dairy creamers, that some of the ladies enjoy. That is way too much sweet stuff for me. I like my coffee black. That way it is perfect for dipping my Twinkies into; although I didn’t bring any with me today. Sigh.

  I wish they had not changed it. I liked it the way it was before.

  I walk into my office and head over to my desk. A copy of today’s bulletin has been placed on my desk, no doubt to remind me should I forget any details. I sit in my chair and scoot up to my desk. I really like my chair. It is black leather with no armrests on it, that way I feel no guilt when I sit down. The chair only sighs briefly as some of the air is released between the seams when I gently sit down. I need to take a look at the verse I am to read, so I grab my Bible. It is always in the same spot so I don’t forget where it is; the main drawer on the right-hand side near the top. I’ve had this Bible since my first days as an altar boy serving at this very church. The leather cover is very flexible and shows it age. One of the bottom corners has been rubbed away from the heel of my palm after many times of opening it up, and searching the pages.

  The passage today is from the book of Luke, chapter 4 verse 21:

  And He began to say unto them, “This day is this scripture

  fulfilled in your ears.”

  I look back over at the bulletin and scroll down to find my portion of when I read this. There is a problem though. At the top, it says “staff copy”, which is not the issue. Each bulletin has always said that. The issue is that the verse that I am to read is not the full verse 21. All it says on the staff bulletin is, “This day is this scripture fulfilled in your ears.” I’m not sure if I like that or not, but it’s not worth making a fuss over. I close my Bible, put it back in its original place, and get up out of my chair. I am going to go visit Jeffers and see if he is in a talking mood.

  I walk down the hall and head towards his office. I knock on the door, since it is good manners and he prefers that. There is no answer. I knock again. No answer. I knock a third time, but with a little more force behind each knock.

  “WHAT?” Jeffers yells.

  I jump back a bit because I didn’t expect him to yell at me. That escalated quickly. The glass in his door has that foggy appearance that won’t allow you to see through to his office. It has his name followed by his title of Parish Priest etched into the glass and highlighted with white and gold embossed overtones.

  “I can see your shadow, Elverson. You can come in now.” He says.

  I open the door and walk in. His office feels colder this morning. I wonder if he had the air conditioning running in here all night. He appears to be writing something down…a journal of some kind, and I appear to have interrupted him. He pauses from his notes and looks up at me with a scowl on his face. “What?” he says. He just stares at me. I can feel his eyes slicing through me. I don’t like that look on his face, and I now seem to have lost the ability to think. Or speak. I have completely forgotten why I came in here in the first place. He takes a deep breath, places his pen down, and says to me, “Look. If you’re here to say anything important, I strongly suggest you say it now. Otherwise you may take your leave of my office as I have to finish this document. Your rambling is not going to ruin my chances today. I’m a candidate for the position of bishop, and I can’t let you steal my focus. I have worked really hard over the past few years to get where I am at today. I stayed up all night last night researching and reviewing the procedures, and previous elections. If I am elected, I will rebuild this church and select a new priest to take my spot. If you do what I tell you, and read only your section of the bulletin each week, everything is going to be fine. Do this and I just may make you the Parish Priest. Who knows? You may even take this office one day. If and when I make bishop, I’ll be able to oversee this entire parish.

  “My hope is that since I am 42 now, I should be able to climb my way up the hierarchical ladder. My goal is to be the youngest pope ever. Do I expect it to happen? Not really. Is it a good thing to hope and strive for? Absolutely. It’s ok to have hopes and dreams, Elverson. It’s ok to have something to strive for. What about you? Do you strive for anything?”

  I begin to open my mouth.

  �
�Don’t answer that. It was a rhetorical question. Look, if you want me to choose you as the next in line for my current position, then I need to see proof of ambition. I need to know that you really want this spot. You have to show me your inner drive and passion. So help me, if it involves anything other than watching the church flourish as a whole I will be sorely disappointed. Have I made myself clear?” Jeffers says.

  I nod my head.

  “Great. By the way, your chasuble is extremely wrinkled. Why can’t you just leave all of that here like everyone else? I can’t think of any other priest, deacon, bishop, or whatever that takes their uniform home with them. Even on TV they don’t do that. They might walk around in all black with the white collar, which is completely fine, but they never walk around in the appointed garments set for mass. Only the pope, patriarchs, cardinals, and the archbishops do that. They have to. They’re public figures. We are not. Well, you aren’t. I, on the other hand, will be one day. Although, I highly doubt you’ll even become a bishop. How old are you now? 64?” he asks me.

  “5-5-52.” I say.

  “Close enough.” Jeffers says. “The cutoff age of retirement for a bishop is 75; so, good luck. I’m not saying that you won’t get there. I am saying that the chances of you getting there are very unlikely.” He pauses and looks at his watch. “You’ll have to forgive me. I was up all night, and I’m a bit tired. That’s probably why I’ve been performing a mini monologue. At any rate, you and I need to make sure the rest of the staff has everything ready for this morning’s mass. Are you ready?”

  I nod my head again.

  “Great. Have you read and understand your portion of the service?”

  That was it! I suddenly remember why I came in here. I raise my hand to have a turn to speak just in case if he tells me to shoo, or if he decides to say anything more.

  “You have to be kidding me.” Jeffers says. “We’re not in grade school. There’s no need to raise your hand. Go on then. What is it?”

  “It’s a-a-about the b-b-bulletin. I read the p-p-part y-y-you want m-m-me to say.” I can see Jeffers cringe. Frankly, I don’t care.

  “What’s wrong with it?” he asks me.

  “It’s n-n-not the f-f-full verse.” I say.

  “Well sure it is.” Jeffers assures me. “I see nothing wrong with it. Does it bother you that I left out the part that says ‘and He began to say unto them’?”

  I nod my head, but hang it a little lower.

  “I thought you might say that.” Jeffers tells me. “I simply edited that part out because it seems redundant. Since you are already saying that actual quote, it doesn’t make sense for you to repeat ‘and he begun to say unto them’ if you are already speaking to our flock. Does that make sense to you?”

  I say nothing. It doesn’t make sense to me, but I really don’t feel like arguing today.

  “Fantastic. I will take your silence as a ‘Yes’. By the way, did you happen to put on your cincture today?” Jeffers asks me. My eyes go wide in a small state of panic. I didn’t think I was forgetting anything! Jeffers takes another deep breath. “Don’t worry,” he says. “I’m sure you have difficulty putting it on anyway. Besides, no one outside of the immediate staff knows what it’s for, let alone what it’s called. I would loan you my spare, but to be blunt it will not fit you. For right now, though, I’m not that worried about your attire insomuch as I am about our special guest visitor.”

  “W-w-who is it?” I ask in a shocked tone.

  “I thought you said you read the bulletin. Did you not read the whole thing?” he asks me.

  “N-n-no. Only the p-p-part y-y-you told me to.” I say.

  “I worry about you, Elverson. You know that? I’m genuinely concerned for your wellbeing.” He sighs heavily, and opens the bulletin and forcefully points his finger to the top of the page. I think if the paper could cry it would have. “That right there. Do you see whose name is right there at the very top listed under ‘Please welcome’?” He clenches his teeth and says, “Whose name is that?”

  I look after his finger moves out of the way. The name reads ‘Archbishop McGarity’. Oh, my goodness! I had no idea! I really wish I had read the whole thing top to bottom. Well, it’s too late now. “Oh.” I say.

  “That’s right, ‘Oh’ indeed. He’s coming here today to evaluate me. This is the reason why I’ve continued to make sure that each and every mass runs as flawless as it does. There’s no doubt that he has heard of our churches progress because of my efforts. If he gives his approval that will significantly increase my chances. You’re not going to mess this up for me! Do I make myself clear?” Jeffers says with a threatening tone.

  “C-c-crystal.” I say. I wouldn’t want to mess that up for him. If the archbishop is here, and all goes well, Jeffers may be out of this church for good. That’s great news for me. No more Jeffers means no more harassment from him. I like this idea.

  “Good. I’m glad we understand one another. Now, let’s go to the sanctuary. I can hear the music playing already, which means that people are starting to get here.” Jeffers motions to the door and I exit, as he follows right behind me, locking his door as he leaves. We both walk down the hallway and head through the doors underneath the feet of Jesus; touching his feet as we pass. We enter into the sanctuary, take our seats and wait for the service to start as the last few people take their seats in the pews. I look down at the front row, and Archbishop McGarity has already taken his seat. He is staring right at Jeffers with a very studious look on his face. I really hope this goes well with Jeffers.

  Mass begins like it always does. I’m reading the bulletin, and everything is going according to plan. It’s a very beautiful service actually, like a scene right out of a movie; almost as if a professional choreographer was hired to do this. Jeffers stands for the liturgy of the Word.

  “Please be seated. Thank you.” Jeffers says. “Open your Bibles to the book of Proverbs chapter 18 verse 11, please.” The people all turn their Bibles to the appropriate pages. Jeffers reads out loud,

  The rich man’s wealth is his strong city, and as a high wall in his own conceit.

  “Now turn with me to the second book of Chronicles please. Chapter 29 verse 12. The verse says this,

  Both riches and honor come of thee, and thou reignest over all; and in thine hand are power and might; and in thine hand is to make great, and to give strength unto all.

  “Lastly from the Old Testament I would like for you to turn to the book of Malachi, chapter 3 verse 10.

  Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in mine house, and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it.

  “Now it is time for our responsorial psalm.” Everyone opens their Bibles to the book of Psalms as directed, and Jeffers reads aloud,

  Give unto the Lord, O you mighty ones; give unto the Lord glory and strength.

  “Now finally turn with me to the gospel according to Luke chapter 6 verse 38.” Jeffers says. He flips the pages in his Bible over to the New Testament.

  Give and it will be given to you: good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over will be put into your bosom. For with the same measure that you use, it will be measured back to you.

  Jeffers closes his Bible, and places both hands on the podium. “Thank you all for coming today. I want to wish a very warm greeting to our special guest visitor today. Please join me in welcoming Archbishop McGarity.” The entire church stands and gives a round of applause. The Archbishop stands and gives a polite wave to the church and a smiling nod to Jeffers. “Thank you. You may be seated.” He says. “Your grace, it is truly an honor to have you here.” He turns his attention back to his notes and then addresses the people. “Ladies and gentlemen, it is my delight to give the homily to you all this morning.

  “God has created all things. His final creation before resting was mankind. Theref
ore, we are His greatest creation. God has given us all things, and has entrusted us with every tiny detail. I truly believe that God wants us to be happy. For us to have lived this long, to prosper, to be fruitful and multiply; He has ensured that we are wired for success.

  “Now I know most people don’t like to talk about money, especially when it comes to matters of the church.” Some people talk amongst themselves, and nod their heads in agreement. “I, for one, don’t like anyone telling me what I should do with my own finances. I’m a big boy, and I can do it by myself, thank you very much.” The whole church shares a moment of laughter. “I have to tell you, though, when I learned that God Himself has clear cut instructions on what to do with money, I listened. Take for example, the verse from the book of Malachi. I remember reading this one as a young boy, and asking my parents what it meant. They furrowed their brows and told me not to worry about it, because it doesn’t apply to today. When I asked more questions, they told me not to worry about it. See, that didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me. If it is in the Bible, then it should be true, correct?” A few people nod. “Then if that statement is true, then you have to assume that the law of cause and effect has to take place. Would you all agree? Then why are people afraid to give their money to the church? If God plainly says to bring your ten percent to the storehouse, and follows it up with saying to test Him in this, why wouldn’t you do it? If Jesus said to give so that you receive more than what you gave in ‘good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over’, then why is it so hard to give to the church?

  “I’m not saying this to sound like a greedy slob; by no means! I am not misquoting the Bible. God only wants ten percent. That’s the law He gave in the Old Testament to the priests, and it still holds true to this day. People see the ten percent, and they panic because they no longer have as much as they used to. Why would you focus on what you don’t have? You still have 90 percent with you! I say, be thankful that God does not require of us the 90 percent. Can you imagine if it were reversed? How would you feel then?