MARIEL

9~I'm Sorry, She Said~

Tuesday, January 15th, 2019:

'This Sunday was a nightmare. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, yet I always am. One day, before the end of time, I hope you can read this and laugh at the situation while you are embraced in the safety of God's love.

After the service, I stood at the pulpit. My hands shook. I stared at the congregation with trepidation. I suppose I didn't have to address the hacking that had taken place, but it needed to be done. They needed to hear my side of the story, especially before Phil Jameson took it upon his self-righteous self to spread rumors about the whole situation. He would do that too.

Finally, after scanning the congregation, I spoke. "Over the weekend, many of you may have seen the recent posts on my Facebook page. I'm aware that many of you may have been concerned about the content of said posts. I'd like to be clear. I fell victim to hacking. I'm not here to make excuses for the misunderstanding, but if any of you truly know me, you would know that I would not post such controversial ideas upon a social media platform."

Of course, it was then necessary for Mr. Jameson to speak. He stood from within his pew, and raised his hand as if he were requesting my permission to speak. Had he been requesting my permission, I would not have granted it. Loudly, he said, "Fr. Jerome, you claimed you were hacked. Correct?"

"That is correct." Suddenly, I was no longer the priest and leader of my congregation. Phil Jameson was no longer a defender of the public. I was a defendant in court, and he was the prosecutor.

He continued. Jameson even looked like he was in court. "Would you consider those hacked postings to be... false? You believe none of the statements made on your 'social media platform'?"

I felt like a fool. Phil Jameson had, indeed, fooled me. I had known that it was unlikely that Phil was gay, and yet I believed him. I answered his questions. I should have known better. I hesitated, and I wanted to call him out, to challenge him before the congregation.

"I merely want to put an end to this misunderstanding, Father," Phil said, glancing around. "I'm sure the rest of the congregation agrees. So, tell me, are you, or are you not, a homosexual? And, would you willingly give the Eucharist to a sexually active homosexual?"

I had a choice to make. I stood before the congregation, and the congregation looked to me for answers. Some of them had known, for sure, that I am gay. Others had, most likely, attempted to deny it. The rest, I'm sure, would be appalled. My eyes glazed. I think I said a prayer. I thought about Mariel, how he was at home, because he obviously could not make an appearance as I am the only one aware of his resurrection. But, if he were there, I was certain that Phil would not have dared attempt this public trial.

Yes. I did pray. I know I did because I remember thinking that I hated Phil Jameson, and then praying for guidance and forgiveness, and coming to the conclusion that if it were Christian to hate, Phil would be my object of hatred.

Before I spoke, something unexpected happened. I heard Esther Caravan's voice.

"Okay, this is bullshit."

The congregation gasped and watched her in wonder as she sharply stood from the back pew. Had the situation not been serious, I might have chuckled as I observed Todd, Mary, and Hawk Caravan's pale faces as they looked up at her with shock and humiliation.

I love that young woman. Proudly, she stood, her hands clenched. Her eyes were fire.

Everyone watched as she whirled towards Phil. "Phil," she exclaimed. "You're an asshole. I'm not really sure why anyone would ever like you, much less marry you, and while I'm being honest I'm just going to say it: You were a horrible husband. You're a horrible person. You're a bully."