they were told by leaders who claim to have a moral imperative driven by their faith in the Lord.”
“They…He…sometimes sacrifice manifests itself in ways that we cannot fully comprehend in this existence. Pope Pius XII himself said during World War II…he said…uh…I’m sure he said something…give me a second, it’ll come to me…”
“Seven: ‘Thou shalt not commit adultery.’ A nice idea but an awful lot do it anyway, from what I’m told, so yet another chunk of the populous heads south – including some of your biggest financial contributors, according to my mother.”
“Valentine, Valentine, listen to me,” he said, through gritted teeth. “Listen to the Lord. He is the only one that can determine–”
“No! No, I’m sorry but you’ve really got my hackles up and I intend to finish. Eight: ‘Thou shalt not steal.’ Again, who can fault the principle, but even if it’s only taking a paper clip home from the office, many do it, often without even realising it. And a command is a command.”
A rigid and distinct animosity had now crept into the Monsignor’s tone. “The definition of stealing in this instance isn’t necessarily given to mean–”
“Nine: ‘Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour.’ Amen to that. The woman next door is always accusing my mother of being a witch, and while I admit she may be a little unusual she most certainly is not a witch…she just likes to express her opinions, however unpopular. Dissidence is not heresy. And lastly, Ten: ‘Thou shalt not covet.’ Now that’s just plain silly. Our entire culture and economy is based solidly around the idea of coveting – it wouldn’t work if we didn’t. The latest model car or computer, the newest gadget that’ll be the envy of your friends – our whole system hinges upon the idea of everyone wanting what they don’t have. So when you add it all up you’re left with…well, a lot of empty seats in church and a rather livelyfire raging down below.”
At this point the Monsignor had finally lost control and spat his words at me loudly and venomously. “How dare you! How dare you distort and pervert the words of the Lord as a means to support your twisted way of thinking!”
“Why ever not? Everyone else does – especially people like you. And I’m as good as everyone else.”
“No you’re not!” he hissed. “You’re nothing. Nothing but a rogue element. You have no place in the house of the Lord. You will be expelled and sent to the fires of hell for all eternity. Unless you can find repentance in your heart for this pagan deviancy you will be damned for evermore. The choice is simple – either you are with the Lord or you are against him!”
Just then Mrs. Anna appeared, looking almost as alarmed by the sight of the Monsignor as I’d first been. Steeling herself, she marched belligerently across the room to one of the many closets and emerged holding a long-handled broomstick. I, on the other hand, had not yet dismounted my righteous steed.
“Look, it’s not that I’m against your Lord, I just don’t believe he actually exists – or existed. For heaven’s sake, I still believe in Father Christmas. I know he’s not real but it still comforts me to think that he sneaks in once a year while I’m asleep and leaves behind a few surprises for me.”
Struggling to pull himself up out of the sink, the Monsignor’s voice became loud and booming. “You dare to compare some mythological, white-bearded old man with–”
“With Father Christmas? Yes, I do. Furthermore, I believe in him not because of any faith or religion or scientific fact, but simply because it makes me feel good. And if believing in your Lord brings you a similar comfort then I’m pleased for you. Just don’t try foisting him on me, that’s all.”
“Sinner! Killer! Faithless heathen!” he venomously screamed. “Bringer of destruction! You will be called to account. You will face the wrath
“They…He…sometimes sacrifice manifests itself in ways that we cannot fully comprehend in this existence. Pope Pius XII himself said during World War II…he said…uh…I’m sure he said something…give me a second, it’ll come to me…”
“Seven: ‘Thou shalt not commit adultery.’ A nice idea but an awful lot do it anyway, from what I’m told, so yet another chunk of the populous heads south – including some of your biggest financial contributors, according to my mother.”
“Valentine, Valentine, listen to me,” he said, through gritted teeth. “Listen to the Lord. He is the only one that can determine–”
“No! No, I’m sorry but you’ve really got my hackles up and I intend to finish. Eight: ‘Thou shalt not steal.’ Again, who can fault the principle, but even if it’s only taking a paper clip home from the office, many do it, often without even realising it. And a command is a command.”
A rigid and distinct animosity had now crept into the Monsignor’s tone. “The definition of stealing in this instance isn’t necessarily given to mean–”
“Nine: ‘Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour.’ Amen to that. The woman next door is always accusing my mother of being a witch, and while I admit she may be a little unusual she most certainly is not a witch…she just likes to express her opinions, however unpopular. Dissidence is not heresy. And lastly, Ten: ‘Thou shalt not covet.’ Now that’s just plain silly. Our entire culture and economy is based solidly around the idea of coveting – it wouldn’t work if we didn’t. The latest model car or computer, the newest gadget that’ll be the envy of your friends – our whole system hinges upon the idea of everyone wanting what they don’t have. So when you add it all up you’re left with…well, a lot of empty seats in church and a rather livelyfire raging down below.”
At this point the Monsignor had finally lost control and spat his words at me loudly and venomously. “How dare you! How dare you distort and pervert the words of the Lord as a means to support your twisted way of thinking!”
“Why ever not? Everyone else does – especially people like you. And I’m as good as everyone else.”
“No you’re not!” he hissed. “You’re nothing. Nothing but a rogue element. You have no place in the house of the Lord. You will be expelled and sent to the fires of hell for all eternity. Unless you can find repentance in your heart for this pagan deviancy you will be damned for evermore. The choice is simple – either you are with the Lord or you are against him!”
Just then Mrs. Anna appeared, looking almost as alarmed by the sight of the Monsignor as I’d first been. Steeling herself, she marched belligerently across the room to one of the many closets and emerged holding a long-handled broomstick. I, on the other hand, had not yet dismounted my righteous steed.
“Look, it’s not that I’m against your Lord, I just don’t believe he actually exists – or existed. For heaven’s sake, I still believe in Father Christmas. I know he’s not real but it still comforts me to think that he sneaks in once a year while I’m asleep and leaves behind a few surprises for me.”
Struggling to pull himself up out of the sink, the Monsignor’s voice became loud and booming. “You dare to compare some mythological, white-bearded old man with–”
“With Father Christmas? Yes, I do. Furthermore, I believe in him not because of any faith or religion or scientific fact, but simply because it makes me feel good. And if believing in your Lord brings you a similar comfort then I’m pleased for you. Just don’t try foisting him on me, that’s all.”
“Sinner! Killer! Faithless heathen!” he venomously screamed. “Bringer of destruction! You will be called to account. You will face the wrath
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