lines.”
“What lines, Valentine?” he said, reassuringly. “God knows no lines. He knows no borders. His church is a broad church – all are welcome.”
“All?” I said, knowing that the conversation was probably not about to take a turn for the better.
“Each and every blessed one of you.”
“No they’re not.”
“Of course they are – His embrace is limitless.”
“But they’re not. The whole set-up is exclusionary.”
Monsignor Dave cleared his throat uncomfortably and spoke in a slightly less benevolent tone than he had thus far. “Look, if He says they are then they are.”
“Then what about the Ten Commandments?”
“What about them?” he said with a warm laugh, attempting to regain some of his previous composure. “Surely you don’t dispute them? They are the fundamental tenets that all good people live by.”
“Of course I dispute them. My parents gave me a thorough debunking of the whole canard.”
“And you imagine your parents to be more learned than He?” he snarled, ominously, before catching himself again and quickly replacing his sneer with a warm smile. “Valentine, Valentine, what have they done to you? Come, follow me,” his bony white fingers beckoning me once more. But it was too late for the Monsignor – my high horse was saddled and ready to ride.
“Let’s see…it’s been a while but I think I can recall them all,” I said, fearlessly, focusing my mind as hard as I could on those rather boring religious education lessons my parents had insisted on giving me. “One: ‘Thou shalt have no other gods before me.’ Well, I may not have any other gods but I don’t have him either, so this totalitarian approach of his leaves me out right from the get-go. Two: ‘Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image…something, something, something…for I the Lord thy God am a jealous God’ – as if we hadn’t already guessed – ‘visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children’ – now I ask you, is that fair? – ‘unto the third and fourth generation of them that hates me and showing mercy unto thousands of them that love me, and keep my commandments.’ In other words, adore me and do as I say or suffer the consequences. I’d hardly call that an embrace, would you? I mean, my God, if you took out the Biblical lingo that could just as easily be an edict from the president of North Korea.”
The Monsignor shuffled uncomfortably, as much as one can when lodged inside of a kitchen sink. “Valentine, you’re surely not trying to equate the words of–”
“Three: ‘Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain.’ I think I just did – so that’s me out again.”
“He will forgive you, Valentine, no matter what you–”
“Four: ‘Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy…’ and something about not doing any work. But don’t the clergy get paid for what they do? Maybe not a fortune, but it’s still a wage for services rendered, and unless I’m very much mistaken, Sunday is your busiest day.”
“It’s the Lord’s work. It’s not the same, my child. You have so much to–”
I pressed on, undaunted. “Five: ‘Honour thy father and thy mother.’ Well, who could argue with that? Unless, of course, you were abused or abandoned by them – or worse. For those that were that’s probably hard to do I would think, meaning yet another segment goes by the wayside. Still, all in all, the basic premise can’t really be faulted, I suppose.”
I could sense the Monsignor’s grip on civility beginning to wane again. “Valentine, it’s a principle, a guideline. Its intent isn’t–”
“It’s a command, isn’t it? Six: ‘Thou shalt not kill.’ Fairly low on the list for one of the biggies, I always thought, but still, there it is and if you’re one of our brave soldiers ordered into the field of battle then you’re likely to be dead in the water either way. And that’s a shame really, since they’re only doing what
“What lines, Valentine?” he said, reassuringly. “God knows no lines. He knows no borders. His church is a broad church – all are welcome.”
“All?” I said, knowing that the conversation was probably not about to take a turn for the better.
“Each and every blessed one of you.”
“No they’re not.”
“Of course they are – His embrace is limitless.”
“But they’re not. The whole set-up is exclusionary.”
Monsignor Dave cleared his throat uncomfortably and spoke in a slightly less benevolent tone than he had thus far. “Look, if He says they are then they are.”
“Then what about the Ten Commandments?”
“What about them?” he said with a warm laugh, attempting to regain some of his previous composure. “Surely you don’t dispute them? They are the fundamental tenets that all good people live by.”
“Of course I dispute them. My parents gave me a thorough debunking of the whole canard.”
“And you imagine your parents to be more learned than He?” he snarled, ominously, before catching himself again and quickly replacing his sneer with a warm smile. “Valentine, Valentine, what have they done to you? Come, follow me,” his bony white fingers beckoning me once more. But it was too late for the Monsignor – my high horse was saddled and ready to ride.
“Let’s see…it’s been a while but I think I can recall them all,” I said, fearlessly, focusing my mind as hard as I could on those rather boring religious education lessons my parents had insisted on giving me. “One: ‘Thou shalt have no other gods before me.’ Well, I may not have any other gods but I don’t have him either, so this totalitarian approach of his leaves me out right from the get-go. Two: ‘Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image…something, something, something…for I the Lord thy God am a jealous God’ – as if we hadn’t already guessed – ‘visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children’ – now I ask you, is that fair? – ‘unto the third and fourth generation of them that hates me and showing mercy unto thousands of them that love me, and keep my commandments.’ In other words, adore me and do as I say or suffer the consequences. I’d hardly call that an embrace, would you? I mean, my God, if you took out the Biblical lingo that could just as easily be an edict from the president of North Korea.”
The Monsignor shuffled uncomfortably, as much as one can when lodged inside of a kitchen sink. “Valentine, you’re surely not trying to equate the words of–”
“Three: ‘Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain.’ I think I just did – so that’s me out again.”
“He will forgive you, Valentine, no matter what you–”
“Four: ‘Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy…’ and something about not doing any work. But don’t the clergy get paid for what they do? Maybe not a fortune, but it’s still a wage for services rendered, and unless I’m very much mistaken, Sunday is your busiest day.”
“It’s the Lord’s work. It’s not the same, my child. You have so much to–”
I pressed on, undaunted. “Five: ‘Honour thy father and thy mother.’ Well, who could argue with that? Unless, of course, you were abused or abandoned by them – or worse. For those that were that’s probably hard to do I would think, meaning yet another segment goes by the wayside. Still, all in all, the basic premise can’t really be faulted, I suppose.”
I could sense the Monsignor’s grip on civility beginning to wane again. “Valentine, it’s a principle, a guideline. Its intent isn’t–”
“It’s a command, isn’t it? Six: ‘Thou shalt not kill.’ Fairly low on the list for one of the biggies, I always thought, but still, there it is and if you’re one of our brave soldiers ordered into the field of battle then you’re likely to be dead in the water either way. And that’s a shame really, since they’re only doing what
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