The priest cleared hsi throat after climbing behind the podium. in front of him were pews and pews of sniffingly, red-eyed, wrecked members of a tight community. Beside him was a floral arrangement, a large glossy picture, and a cherry wood casket.
Neither should be any more important than the other. And yet, they somehow fought one another to be the most important thing in the room. Under God's watchful eye, they wanted to prove themselves righteous. Dead or alive.
"Romans 8:38 - 39; For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."
Everyone nodded like the words had come straight out of God's clean asshole. Their cries sputtered away, their tissues stopped dabbing, and the children in the crowd could not contain their antsiness. The sun shined through the stained glass with no specific approval of the worship he was dawned upon.
The priest shifted, nodding too, "The man we sit here today memorializing will always be a child of God, under the love our loud Jesus Christ," He nodded again when a couple of patrons shouted their agreeance, "The man we sit here today memorializing will always be under the love of the community he served. Clark Locke has always put the community before himself and for that, we are eternally grateful for. As we are eternally grateful for Clark Locke being the role model we can always hold ourselves to."
The wind outside picked up just a small bit, trees rustling just outside the white walls of the holy center. Birds paid no mind to the event happening yards from them. The clouds paid no mind of the shadow they cast. The three boys stationed at the end of the block paid no mind of the honor they were supposed to be giving.
"Generations have grown up alongside Clark. Whether you were close together as children, whether you got your education alongside Clark, or if you conducted your day to day life alongside Clark's. We grew up alongside Clark. It allows us all to understand the level of generosity the man held. We are allowed to understand the sorrow Clark experienced in his lifetime. And yet he stayed humble and kind to all. He never used one's experiences against them. He never held anger towards anyone in particular."
The priest looked like a fancy politician in the way he jutted his finger around to further press his points. His robe swished along the ground beneath him, his eyes narrowing behind small glasses. You could assume the man was accusing someone of murder.
"God made man to be as Clark Locke was. And if Clark was an angel on land then we know the Lord has good plans for our fellow brother-"
"Amen!" It was mostly the first couple fo pews and a few grandmothers who waggled their finger in the air and sung.
"And so we send one last prayer to make sure our brother has a safe trip up to the Heavens he deserves. Dear Heavenly Father-"
"Dear Heavenly Father," Everyone bowed their head, locked their elbows, and sung to their own knees.
The priest watched over his 'family' as they sat side by side to honor a man who never was given enough credit. The three men on the corner were no longer part of the family. Whether they left willingly or they were shamed out. They sat there on the corner and honored a different man. One who walked more in like Jesus had than Clark Locker ever did.
"We pray to thee in relief, guidance, and strength. Please guide out brother up to your kind heavens and accept him with open arms and love in your heart. We thank you for the relief you gave our brother, no longer struggling in pain every day. We ask you for strength to move forward in our lives with our brother in our heart. Thank you Father for giving us life along with our brother. Amen."
"Amen." Like an appulse.
While the cherry wood coffin would be lowered into the ground and cover with dirty, Clark Locke would never have a dirtied reputation.
The only dirty one would be traced right back to the cherry wood.
YOU ARE READING
Praying Under Pressure
Novela JuvenilElliot Fernandez is a man who has only ever done whatever expects of him. So when he hits his wit's end, he gathers all his courage and moved across the country for his Masters degree. But mostly to take control of his passive position. A move he al...
