Travel Bug (17 page)

“What will they hear?” asked Harris.

“Woe to you teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You travel over land and sea to win a single convert, and when he becomes one, you make him twice the son of hell as you are.”

Shocked and stunned by his words, neither deacon nor pastor could immediately respond. Then just before he could bring himself to speak, Jones found himself puzzled by the scriptural reference. He was wondering if this man fancied himself to be some type of intellectual. It was obvious he was much younger than the pastor; he appeared to be in his early thirties. His demeanor was humble but at the same time, he seemed not be the least bit afraid of confrontation. Then it dawned on him. He was asking questions by quoting scripture.

“Why did you answer us like that?” asked Jones.

“I found that it was the correct response,” said the stranger.

“Son, I’ve been quoting scripture since long before you were ever born. You see, a pastor is in a certain position of authority…”

“All authority is given by God. You would not have this authority if it was not for him and his greater plan.”

“We can all agree on that,” said the deacon. He wanted to lash out but his Christian humility held him back from the insulting remark.

Once again the two men were bewildered and confused by this odd stranger. They were not sure if he was here to learn or to try and teach them he was somehow smarter or better or even more righteous than them. The tension was growing much stronger but then Jones had an epiphany. He looked at the deacon and smiled. Harris, of course, followed his lead and smiled back. The stranger surprised them both by giving what could only be described as the truest smile they had ever seen.

“Listen, after services…”

“Yes, pastor,” said the stranger.

“Won’t you join me, my wife Melissa and the deacon for a family style lunch at my home?”

“Sir, I must go attend to my duties, I…”

“You may go, Deacon Harris.”

The pastor knew he had to be very careful now. This was always the crucible moment. Speak the truth in love but never, ever compromise the message.

“You know that I love you,” he said coldly.

“I know that you think that you do,” he answered the small town holy man.

“What?”

“Love is complicated and always comes at a great price.”

“The price of justification is what it costs.”

“Yes, on that we can agree.”

“Oh, you do possess some understanding of this. Excellent,” said Jones.

“I do.”

“Good. Very good,” Jones said almost suspiciously.

“Is love control?”

“What did you say?”

“Is love control?”

“I heard you the first time. What are you implying?” asked the pastor.

“Nothing at all, I wanted to hear you say what you think.”

“Yes in part it is control.” Pastor Jones grew immediately weary of this odd young man. He could not get past the long hair. The man had somewhat of an arrogant demeanor as well.

“No, it isn’t about control at all pastor, it never was.”

“No?”

“No!” the stranger answered.

“When you say things like that you are implying that I don’t know what love is.”

“Only God knows your heart, Pastor Jones.”

“These rules and standards that I hold so dear come right from the good book itself. Don’t you understand that?”

“I understand that is how your sect chooses to interpret it. We should all worship the same God but not necessarily in the same way.”

The stranger smiled at Jones. He was trying to bring some much needed levity to the situation. He wanted to find out a bit more from him before they proceeded down this potentially dangerous road.

“What were you originally?”

“Do you mean of what faith?”

“Yes.”

“You almost seem to know the answer, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he said laughing.

“What do you think then?”

“Catholic, I think you were Roman Catholic and now you want the truth.”

“I see.”

The manner in which this man spoke really got under the skin of the pastor. It was almost as if he were nearly speaking in parable whenever he answered a question.

“The Roman Catholic papacy is the whore of Babylon, wouldn’t you agree?”

“That’s one point of view.”

“Sir, what is your point of view?”

“That all faith contains many flaws.”

“Yes, I can… see what you mean…”

“So do all faiths and organized religions in general.”

“The burning of people alive at the stake, the torture of the Anabaptists should convince anyone these are not real believers.”

“The worst oligarchy of all is composed of those who wed church and state into a dangerous union.”

“We never burned anyone alive as far as I know.”

“The question is whether you would do that if you did have the power.”

“What?”

“I am not saying that you would, Richard. You must seek out your heart and take a good look inside to find what is there. What you seek is what is in your heart.”

“Yes.”

“Protestantism was the triumph of Christ over Peter. Fundamentalism is the triumph of Paul over Christ.”

“Will Durant.”

“Yes.”

“I hate that quote.”

“I thought you might, Richard.”

“Why did you say it then?”

“You need to expand your mind and stop being so narrow. Look at me; I am open to attending one of your services despite having little in common with your perspective.”

“I see.”

“Perspectives need to be constantly challenged. It is not right to have one point of view that kills any dissent.”

“So should I be reading books on atheism and other faiths.”

“Yes.”

“I believe that would be a very bad idea.”

“Why?”

“You would be spending too much time in the enemy’s territory.”

“That’s interesting.”

“How is it interesting, to spend time with the evil one?”

“It sounds like something the Taliban might say.”

“No!”

“What, Richard?”

“I don’t like that, it’s simply not true.”

“Why don’t you like that? Is it because your perspective should be forced onto others?”

“The lord’s perspective, not mine, that’s what I’m saying.”

“How convenient for you that is.”

“What?”

“There is no Christian Taliban as far as I know. If there is one, God save us from how we want to throw his salvation into the pit of oblivion.”

“What path are you trying to put folks on?”

“It isn’t the path to fascism as far as I know.”

“Are you calling me a fascist?”

“No, sir, I am not. It is you who have said it.”

“Okay. There is no absolute truth and all paths lead to God.”

“Everyone must ultimately choose their own path.”

“You surely love to use flowery, ambiguous language.”

“I love to love others and speak to their convictions. I find a way to love and speak to the human heart.”

“Fine but I don’t like what you do.”

“I never thought that you did.”

“What?”

“All I am saying is that you should not demonize those who have a different point of view. If you would walk a thousand, a hundred, ten or even one mile in the shoes of another then you may judge them.”

“What?” he repeated.

“The statement regarding not judging doesn’t particularly appeal to you?”

“How can I not judge when the rapture is so close?”

“Well, for starters, the rapture is an idea that is biblically weak and came very, very late in Christian history.”

“Oh?” he asked almost sarcastically.

“Scripture is full of condemnations regarding soothsayers and those who would dare to try and predict the future. Yet, you and your ilk are obsessed with finding the date of the last day. That is unforgivable blasphemy.”

“Learning about the end times is not blasphemy”

“You won’t even accept the real age of this planet. How can I expect someone like you to follow God’s commands regarding predicting the future?”

“You say all these things and yet you want to attend my next services and hear my next sermon?”

“Indeed, sir. I certainly intend to be there.”

This was either the most rebellious man he had ever met who simply was not saved or the biggest trouble maker. Jones didn’t care for troublemakers. Not one bit. The stranger had already vanished. He must have left in haste when Jones closed his eyes in sheer frustration at the most aggravating conversation that he had ever had. Was this man here to test his beloved faith? He wasn’t sure but this was the most disturbing, frightening and intimidating man that he had ever met. The good deacon would have to be contacted soon. A plan was needed to solve this dilemma. This man, this stranger would either be saved or he would never be seen in this town again.

Jones peered through the entrance of the church’s humble chapel and saw him.

Jones stood there for a few minutes. Things did not change. The stranger was deep in prayer. It wasn’t the kind where someone showed off to others, making fellow religionists aware of their righteousness. This young man contained genuine faith. He was the real deal. In many ways, that made Jones despise him all the more. A trouble making nonbeliever would be preferable. Then he could show him for the devil that he was. This was serious trouble. Anyone could see the man’s sincerity. The worst thing for Jones was that the man did not really say or do anything wrong. He merely expressed a different perspective. Conformity was ironically the best sign of having a personal relationship with God. Free will had to take a backseat to the herd mentality when it came to this flock.

“You’re done speaking with him?” Harris asked.

“I am.”

“He looks like he’s very deep in prayer.”

“The man seems to have faith.”

“Too bad it’s misplaced, Pastor Jones.”

“He thinks his prayers are answered by God but he is actually worshiping Satan.”

“How long are you going to let him stay here?”

“As long as he wants to stay, I think.”

“Why would you say that?”

“I don’t like to interrupt any prayers even from those who aren’t saved.”

“I see. Give him time to see the errors of his ways and turn from the devil?”

“The lord works in mysterious ways, you know that…”

The two men continued to watch the stranger. His eyes were closed, his hands folded and he was humbly on his knees.

“Amen.”

Harris and Jones made sure that they were unseen by the time the stranger left. So many men had traveled through town and had attempted to bring change. Then they would leave and end up living their sinful lives elsewhere. The stranger was unfortunately revealing how remarkably smart he was. There was no need to test that in front of the congregation. The last thing he would ever want is to suffer losing a theological debate in front of them.

What the two men didn’t know was what the stranger was praying for. These men were on the surface narrow minded bigots to outsiders. He saw that perhaps there was something deeper inside of them. They both did have a genuine desire to know and seek the truth. What they had forgotten was the very definition of faith. They confused faith with scientific facts and that fatal mistake transformed them into religious fanatics. Since faith was evidence of what was not seen, it would be wrong to judge others who were lacking in it. This was true. The stranger believed they were the ones who were very, very dangerous and not him. Jones and Harris had a distorted view of America. They believed it was founded with no one but deeply religious born again Christians in mind. The skepticism of Paine and the Bible cut to shreds by Jefferson were considered unspeakable.

Harris and Jones were both very concerned about the stranger. Avoiding tough love and sugar coating the gospel message always led to eternal damnation. Sometimes Harris thought that sparing people’s feelings was among hell’s best kept secrets. This wasn’t a game. This was tragedy. Too many souls spent eternity in the lake of fire and these two men would do anything, anything within their means to prevent this. Jones’s congregation went door to door to lead folks to the lord. Since the majority of this particular community was probably saved, they would frequent surroundings areas. That was the plan of attack and they were Christian soldiers. The best soldiers were the ones who were willing to die for the cause. The glorious martyrs were the best of the faithful flock. The early disciples gave it all, willing to die for their God. Now the folks who gave all their earned income for that week were the true believers. The pastor called it “one hundred percent Sunday.” It was only held once a month but it was surely a true test for the faithful. He understood that not everyone could do this, after all even heaven has its second class citizens.

“It won’t be long until we have to make our decision,” said Jones.

“Yes, sir,” said Harris.

“The sad thing is how much potential that boy has. I mean have you ever seen someone who might make a great soldier for the cause like that recently?”

God knew that too many souls had slipped through their fingers, escaped their grasp and evaded them. If they didn’t start winning souls, they would be cleaning bathrooms in the kingdom of the afterlife.

The stranger had come to pray for them. That’s what he did and he did it with complete humility and sincerity. The pastor and deacon had no idea how many hours this man spent praying ceaselessly on their behalf to the heavenly father. As much as they claimed to be concerned about the stranger, he was infinitely more concerned with the state of sin on their wicked souls. The many terrible things that had been done and continued to be done in God’s name were tragic. Men needed to be living the love of God instead of the will of man. Tithing and strict religious rules had taken the place of love. This had happened before. That’s why men were burned alive by other men who claimed to love them on God’s saving behalf. The horrible betrayal of faith was almost as evil as the sadistic, unspeakably evil punishments inflicted on behalf of nonconformists by the will of the religionists.

At that very moment a homeless man approached the stranger.“Please spare some money, sir,” said a homeless man. There were not too many homeless folks in town. They knew how the deacon and pastor felt about idle people. The man was obviously a drunk and probably a drug addict. He would find little compassion in a town like this and with the congregation of Faith Bible Church. The stranger walked up to him and smiled. An insignificant church member watched from a distance.