So They May Know

The ultimate sacrifice for Truth.

"A High and Lofty place..."
That's where we all go.
Once a week, maybe twice, but never more.
Today is The Day.
The Day we go.
A High and Lofty place.
I see it long before it's close.
Large, bulbous.
Grand, daunting.
But as I near the door, I sense it's decayed.
Old, faded, dead.
I say nothing,
"We don't want to hurt anyone's feelings..."

They unlock the doors and let us in all at once.
Like last time.
And the time before.
Ever since I can remember.
My seat is waiting for me.
Everyone sits where they're assigned.
No ones feelings are hurt.
"A High and Lofty place..."
We all look forward.
The Exhibition is due.

Three come from the multitude and take their place.
The platform.
We watch silently.
They open their mouths, the words drum out.
Unison.
I don't remember when we first banned music.
But it was done...
...so we wouldn't hurt someones feelings.
The chant of the three continue.
"...High and lofty place..."
End.
They return to the masses.

The shadows of the pews grow long.

The Instructor climbs the platform.
He is to speak.
He sits himself upon the throne and drones out numbly to the crowd; "Blessed are we, for mine is the Kingdom."
Blessed.
We nod in reply.
Agree.
Always.

"Let me begin.."
That is our cue.
A third of the crowd raise their hands up slowly, covering their ears.
No ones feelings are hurt.
They know the rest will soon follow.
The Instructor leans back into his chair, speaking slow and long.
Only a few still listen, skimming the ancient and worn book they still believe may hold the answers.
Hoping to find in it something that resembles the teaching of The Instructor.
To understand.
But the Elders know better, and the others find nothing.
One by one, they close the book.
They won't waste as much time next Day.

I watch the Instructor, his mouth still moving.
"High and Lofty place..."
We don't want to hurt someones feelings...
My hand slips:
"Great are we and Greatly to be praised..."
I nod unconsciously.
Yes, surely we are great.
We are great.
Great...great?
A question.
A sin.
Are we truly great?
"Blessed..." they say
"We are great..."

Are we?
"We don't want to hurt someones feelings..."
No. We are not.
I watch the Instructor prattle on.
"High and Lofty place..."
For once I feel separated from the others around.
I am distinct in myself.
I am whole and yet afraid.
And quietly, oh so quietly, a still small voice takes form and reverberates in my mind...

"...God is not here..."

Breath escapes me. I choke.
And yet I know...for so very long, I have known.
My arms fall to my side.
My ears laid bare as well as my once numb heart.
"...we don't want to hurt someones feelings..."
A tear, small and cold, pours onto my cheek.

They know.
The Instructor stops...looking me straight in the eye.
They all turn and fix their gaze on me.
His eyes do not waver as he speaks to the masses:
"Let us pray for our sister...and her healing."
Pray, they echo in unison.
I become rigid.
I know what is to come.
They warned us of the price.
It means nothing now.

"God is not here" I whisper to myself.

"Pray" he commands the crowd, his eyes piercing mine.

"Mumble,mumble,mumble..."
The crowd chants.
"Mumble, mumble, mumble..."

"God is not here" I say aloud.
To them.
My voice shaking.

"Mumble, mumble, mumble..."
"Louder!" yells the Instructor, gripping the throne.
"MUMBLE, MUMBLE, MUMBLE..."

They are shouting now, but I will not be drowned out.
Not yet.
I rise to my feet, standing tall upon the pew and scream with all my might:

"GOD IS NOT HERE!!!"

Still.
Silence.
They stare at me, their eyes full of fear.
They know it too.
An Elder begs, pleads.
For his sake. And mine.
"We don't want to hurt someones feelings..."

"Afflicted!" shouts the Instructor rising from the throne, venom dripping in his voice.
"Healed she will be."

I breathe in deeply.
My fists are clenched.
I am not afraid.
They rise.
Unison.
Mechanical.
They grab me harshly.
I flinch but do not fight back.
Pulling me towards the platform, they throw me to the ground.
My head aches as I try to focus on the faces in the crowd.
It's good that they see this.
They make me kneel.
The Instructor stands tall before me.
I am not afraid...

"Repent."

The word falls cold upon my heart.
I stare defiantly.
"Never."
"You will be healed."
"I have been."

"Blasphemy!"
Pain.
My mouth fills with blood...I cannot keep the tears from forming...
He grabs my face, forcing me to look into his own.

"I will win" he threatens.
A smile plays across my torn and blooded lips;
"You have already lost."

He pushes me away, and walks over to the table.
He returns to me with a sword in one hand and a book in the other.
He reads aloud, condemnation in his voice.

Exodus 22:24 " My anger will be aroused, and I will kill you with the sword..."

"So let it be done," he finishes, slamming the book closed and throwing it to the floor.

I reach for it, wrapping my shaking fingers around the old cloth.
Slowly I pull it into my arms.
The Instructor stands still, waiting to see.

I turn the pages carefully.
I find what I need.
And read it to them, softly for them to hear, that they may know.

Psalms 13:3-5
" Look on me and answer, O LORD my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death;

my enemy will say, "I have overcome him,"
and my foes will rejoice when I fall.

But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation."

Tears.
The crowd.
He sees them too.
"This will be ended."
I am not afraid.
I clutch the worn book tightly to my chest.
The steel rubs cold on my bare neck.
So that they may see and know...
The sword is raised.
I feel my heart, and smile amidst the tears.
"God is here..."


In me.

Author's Note

My thoughts...we may be closer to this fate then we have ever been before.
To the Martyrs...

Reviews

[Mason Vail]

The dumbing down of religion and soul numbing experience of so much modern worship is so tragic. A genuine relationship with God and the life He calls us to is infinitely more radical and dangerous than most people would ever guess sitting in most pews. Seriously, seriously tragic. Read the Gospels and ask yourself if Jesus worried about hurting anyone's feelings or was ever content just going through the motions...

You've captured the hopeless despair of the mainstream situation vividly.

I admit to being a little distracted by grammar and spelling issues, but those are easily fixed.

[Lauren Marie]

Wow. That was beautiful and saddening. I fear that that is what the future will soon hold.

This is one of my favorites.

~Lauren

[Lexi Nicole]

I don't think there's anything I can say in a review that Mason Vail hasn't already said. You've done a brilliant job with this piece. I love how you incorporated Biblical quotes into it. It made the meaning of the poem stronger. Well done! You do need to fix up your grammar a little bit, and maybe proof-read a little more closely to fix the spelling mistakes.

-Howl