Stranger In the Church.

Folder: 
Bern's Prose.

 

 

The stranger in Church.

 

 

 

The first hymn had been sung. There were no choir and the hymn sounded rather weak to my ears not like most opening hymns in churches. The Vicar had turned from the Altar when the church door opened with its usual groan as if protesting at being disturbed as the service was getting underway. Through the church doors appeared a man. A tall broad shouldered man. Making his way to a vacant seat, he sat waiting for the vicar to get on with the service.

 

 

 

The whole of the congregation had eyes only for the newcomer. Many questions such as who is he? Do you know him? The vicar coughed and then called out, The Lords Prayer. There followed the old well known chant, Our Father which art in Heaven. The newcomer joined in most heartily, his deep baritone voice blended well into what was for most a necessary part of an age old ritual. The amen from his baritone voice sounded well above the other voices of the congregation. The vicar made a few small announcements of what had been planned for the coming week. Then the vicar broke with all tradition instead of one of his most boring sermons he asked for a volunteer to come forward and tell the congregation why they were members of the Christian faith. No movement from the Church Goers. Suddenly the stranger stood up walked firmly to the vicar and spoke a few words. The Vicar escorted the stranger to the Pulpit. Here the stranger smiled. His smile was infectious for suddenly all of the congregation were smiling. Then he spoke. I entered this your Church as a stranger. Not one of you smiled or showed that I was welcome in the house of the Lord. Even now I see no signs of recognition looking at you oh yes I have looked not only at you but deep inside of you. I am not here to preach a sermon. Your own vicar has had up until now very little or no success in this line. Now look closely all of your questions will be answered. All eyes were fixed on to this stranger that showed signs of great authority. We are here today in the house of my Father. On hearing these words the Vicar fainted. From the Pulpit, “leave the vicar he will be attended to.” Two what I can only say were angels were standing by the vicar. They helped him to his feet and then sat him down on a seat. The voice carried on my father has no pleasure in this his house, no flowers. Where are the little children, did I not make it clear when I said, “Suffer the little Children to come unto me.”? Why is this my Father’s house so drab? Is there not enough money in the collections to buy a tin or two of paint? The stranger stepped down from the pulpit and standing in front of the congregation he raised his hand and spoke a blessing in old greekish. His disappearance caused another stir in the already unsettled congregation. The vicar was at a complete loss for words. The congregation left the Church some with very guilty looks on their faces others brazenly as if it did not concern them. I had another look around to see whether the stranger had really disappeared or just hidden himself. I had to admit there was no place for a grown man to hide. He had really disappeared. My head was now full of questions, was this stranger no stranger after all? Was he the Son of God? Did I feel any better after his blessing. What shall we do with the Church? Shall we buy paint and do the old place up it wouldn’t be before time? This is a report by your scribbler Bern of my visit to the local Church and what happened. You are welcome to come and help with the painting and decorating. God knows there is enough to do, see you at the church.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Religious who me?

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bishu's picture

May I say something Austromate.....

... In  homes made for God none is a stranger whether of any religion or faith [my own personal opinion] 


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