Doubting Thomas

by Adam Grinter

  We have met with him and he has agreed to participate in a special service to take place at Westminster Cathedral on Sunday at 10AM.

  He will talk about hope in an increasingly lawless and Godless society. He will announce the Church’s new initiative to bring the Lord’s word to every corner of the globe and he will usher in a New Age and New Hope for all who walk with Christ.’

  William Webster, Archbishop of London was unavailable for comment, but it was confirmed that he would take the service on Sunday and that he had met and spoken to the man in question.

  Speculation remains as to the identity of the young man with themailonline.com unable to confirm his identity and give you the background on him.

  There were some large leaps in logic in the statement but it was put out by the Catholic Church so what did I really expect.

  A line from an old TV show had stuck with me for years and it had served me well in my previous career. ‘Post hoc ergo propter hoc’ which basically meant just because one thing follows another, doesn’t mean they are necessarily linked. I smiled at the memory of the show but quickly realised this was not the moment for me to be showing off.

  I needed to contact William to find out what plans he’d made for us for the following day. He was releasing details to the press but keeping us very much in the dark.

  I took a large slurp of still hot coffee and pressed speed dial one on my phone.

  “Thomas.” He answered on the second ring.

  “William.” I replied.

  “How’s John?” William took charge of the conversation as he usually did.

  “He’s OK.” I looked over at him and he was engrossed in a show on TV as he had been the previous day. “He enjoyed a pizza last night.”

  “That’s good, that’s good.” William ruminated. “Is he ready for tomorrow?”

  “We don’t know anything about tomorrow.” I said. I wanted to be angry but, I’d resigned myself to the fact this was happening. I couldn’t muster the energy for the fight. “You haven’t told us what’s going on.” This part I could get angry about. I wanted information, I wanted William to keep me in the loop. Although I was out of control, I needed a semblance of an idea where this was going.

  “Have you checked your emails?” William asked reasonably.

  Shit, no I hadn’t.

  “I haven’t had the chance.” I lied.

  “It’s all in there.” William responded. “I’ve got to dash, so much to prepare.”

  He hung up.

  I looked quizzically at the phone in my hand. Like every conversation I’d had with William I came away feeling I’d just responded to him. He steamrollered over any plans I made for the dialogue. Not for the first time I wondered how he did that.

  I pulled my laptop from my bag where I’d put it two night’s previously, plugged it in, booted it up. I finished my coffee while the machine performed its start-up routine automatically it asked me for my email login.

  I clicked in and it recovered two unread emails. Both were from William, both were from six-thirty the previous evening. I could rage against him for many reasons but at least he’d given me half an hour’s warning of what was about to happen.

  The first email was a copy of their press release. I’d read it word for word this morning so didn’t need to see it again.

  The second email had two attachments. I opened the first, it contained an itinerary for Sunday. We were being collected at eight o’clock and being driven direct to the Cathedral. They were expecting crowds so they wanted John inside before he could be mobbed outside.

  Also on the timetable was the order of service. I could see John was the last speaker on after a couple of readings, hymns and a sermon from William. It appeared he believed in drawing out the tension. The crowd would be whipped to fever pitch by the time John came to speak. We were then listed as having drinks with the bishops after the service. I wasn’t sure that was a good idea. However, they had made it obvious they didn’t want to hear my opinion, especially if it differed from theirs.

  I pushed that to one side and opened the second attachment. It opened as a word file and I was shocked as I read the contents.

  John’s Message to the World.

  My name is John, John Byrne and I am here because I have a message that needs to be heard. That’s not just my opinion, even God has told you that you must listen to me.

  (Pause for footage of priests).

  The Lord has spoken through his servants on Earth. The message I have is Heaven sent, it is divine, it is undeniable.

  My childhood was one of isolation and loneliness. It was spent in a children’s home, after being shunned by perfectly ‘decent’ families because of something that someone took a dislike to. I wasn’t perfect so I didn’t fit. I didn’t conform to the ideal so I was cast out.

  My adult life has been one of servitude. I have looked after the weak and elderly all my working life. I have seen first hand real suffering and pain.

  I have found that the church gave me the purpose to live. The feeling of belonging. The urge to do the right thing.

  Throughout history man’s inhumanity to his fellow man has been well documented and we have shaken our heads and marvelled at history’s lessons. We have congratulated ourselves that we live in more enlightened times.

  And yet we have not learned from the mistakes of the past. We still mistreat those with the least, we still allow the weakest to suffer. We are still the same selfish, weak and frightened species that we have always been.

  With every passing day abhorrent views and behaviours become more and more mainstream. More people suffer needlessly, more people lose faith in their fellow man and most importantly the world turns away from God, our Father.

  You have seen his power.

  (Pause for footage of shooting).

  You know what he is capable of.

  You know in your heart what is right.

  All things are possible through him.

  Good people lose hope every day. The church gives that back. Together we will be a force for good in the world. Together we are strong. Together we are undefeatable.

  We will make a difference, we will improve things. The Lord tells me so.

  When we believe together, pray together, good things happen.

  The world is on the brink of something, it can tip one way or the other. If we turn away from the church and its teachings the decline is assured. If we take up arms for Him the world has a chance. The forces of evil can be defeated. The world can be a better place.

  Decent people still exist, there are still enough of us to win this battle but only together through the church can we do that.

  The Lord knows what is in your heart, the Lord knows that you have good intentions. Ultimately we all know what they pave.

  Instead it is our actions that we will be judged on. We must do something together, we must join with our brothers and sisters around the world and call on the Lord to unleash his awesome power through us in order to make the change that is inevitable.

  The Lord will not allow us to lose. God is the only way to win.

  Together we can change the world.

  Praise the Lord.

  Thank-you.

  I read the text through and shook my head in disbelief. Surely they can’t mean what I think they mean.

  I passed the laptop reluctantly to Maria for her to read through. I felt slightly unclean just having read it and I didn’t really want to share that feeling with anyone else. A large part of me hoped I really had misunderstood the bombshell they wanted to drop on Sunday.

  I looked at Maria’s reaction as she read; her mouth hung open and a look of shock froze her features. I hadn’t misunderstood, it was clear; they wanted a war.

  I assumed Maria had finished reading because she pushed the laptop away from herself as if just being close to it would somehow infect her with its vitriolic message.

  I needed to speak to William about this, I couldn’t put John in that posi
tion.

  My phone was clamped to my ear as I strode purposefully into the kitchen.

  Remain calm, remain calm. I repeated internally.

  “Ah Thomas.” William answered. “Is everything alright for tomorrow?” He asked oblivious to my real reason for calling.

  “Not really.” I said trying to keep emotion out of my voice. An angry rant at this point would not help any of us. “The speech for John.”

  “Oh yes.” William interrupted. “It’s the call to arms we’ve needed for years. John is the answer to our prayers.”

  “Call to arms?” I queried slightly worried at his use of words.

  “Yes. I wouldn’t expect you to fully understand; being an atheist and all.” William said patronisingly. “But the Lord calls upon all of us to fight the good fight to defeat evil wherever we find it. To root out those that are enemies of God. To further His kingdom wherever we can.”

  “But...” I tried to interject.

  “The language is strong but it’s all people respond to nowadays. They are immune to the nice words from the pulpit. They’ve resigned themselves to the shouting from the internet and specifically from social media. Their memes give them solace in easy answers. However, meaningful answers are never easy. You and I are realists, we know that. They are sleep walking and we have to wake them up somehow so we have a chance to defeat the forces of evil that dominate the world’s conversations at the moment. Playing on emotions is not a bad thing.”

  His words were logical and reasonable. They were still wrong.

  “I get that.” I was trying to be reasonable in return in the hope that whatever course had been set could be reversed. “Abhorrent behaviour?” I questioned.

  “Racism, sexism, ageism. You know all those attitudes that belong in the past.”

  “Being gay, abortion, being of a different religion.” I countered.

  “Of course not. People know we don’t mean that. We’re very inclusive.” William responded.

  “No they don’t.” I argued.

  “The Catholic church has moved forward, we have embraced the twenty-first century and we call out bigotry wherever we see it. That’s what this speech is all about. It’s a new day for the church.”

  “You do realise when you say the mistakes of the past, most of those mistakes were made by the church when it wielded untold power.” I tried a different tack.

  “The Catholic church has always admitted its mistakes and we have grown from them.” William answered. His mind was made up, he couldn’t or wouldn’t see the harm this speech could cause.

  For believers it was a call to action. For the lost and lonely it might be the joining of an organisation with the potential for great things. For non-believers it would do nothing to change their minds. However, for the extreme fringe, which although a small percentage, still existed; this was the call to violence many of them craved.

  “You can’t give this responsibility to John.” I said forlornly. “He’s not the one to deliver this message.”

  “He’s the only one who can deliver this message Thomas. He has been chosen by God.” There was a solemnity to his words. There was no arguing with a true believer. “Give the speech to John and I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

  He hung up.

  I turned slowly to return to the living room and pass on the bad news to Maria. She stood silently in the doorway, gauging my reaction. My slumped shoulders and dejected look must have told her all she needed to know because she turned and walked down the hallway to sit holding John’s hand on the sofa again. Not a word had passed between us but, she had made her point very loudly.

  I sat defeated in my chair trying to delay indefinitely the moment when I would have to talk to John about the twenty-four hours before us.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Saturday continued its inexorable progression towards Sunday. Eventually I felt the moment couldn’t be put off any longer.

  “John.” I said breaking the silence that had hung between us for hours. John turned in my direction, tearing his gaze from the constant companion of an almost mute TV. It scattered colours around the room but failed to illuminate the people whose eyes were constantly drawn to it. “William wants you to give a speech tomorrow at the cathedral.” I tried to sound matter-of-fact about it, as if this type of thing was an everyday occurrence.

  “OK.” John replied simply.

  “He’s written what he wants you to say so you don’t need to come up with something yourself.” So far, so reasonable.

  “OK.” John said again.

  “Do you want to read what he’s written?” I asked.

  John thought briefly. “Do I need to?” He asked.

  “It may help.” Maria answered.

  “I’m sure Mother will help if there’s long words.” John said and turned back to the TV. There was some sort of talent show taking place. Desperate people on display singing bland songs to powerful people without talent themselves who criticized their performances. It summed up the state of the world in a nutshell.

  I looked at Maria and shrugged. We didn’t want to spook John but he seemed resigned to his fate even if he was unsure what that fate would be.

  We had take-away for the second night and the Chinese I ate was texture-less and tasteless. I ate out of routine and because my stomach grumbled every time I moved. John and Maria seemed to take no more enjoyment from their food than I had from mine.

  They retired to their rooms early to get a good night’s sleep and be ready for our early collection. I lay on the sofa staring at the ceiling. Sleep eluded me. I tried not to think of the day to come but inevitably I kept coming back to it.

  Tomorrow.

  Everything was going to change.

  Psalms

  John spent all of Saturday staring at the TV. He’d never done that for a whole day before. Mother always told him it was a waste of his time, it would rot his brain.

  By lunchtime he agreed with Her. He wanted to stop watching and actually do something.

  He knew Thomas and Maria were busy even though they were in the room with him for most of the day. Phone-calls were made and received. John couldn’t make out what was being said as Thomas kept his voice low to avoid being overheard. John stopped trying to eavesdrop and went back to watching the brain rotter.

  Mother would make the occasional comment to him, telling him not to worry, things were going to be alright. As John didn’t know what was going on, he wasn’t particularly worried anyway. Mother tried to put him at ease. He relaxed with her encouraging, soothing words.

  His favourite Saturday night talent show had started when Thomas spoke to him. He told him they were going to the cathedral the next day and he was going to give a speech. He had never given a speech before and was unsure if he was going to be able to think of anything to say. When Thomas told him William had written something for him, he relaxed. Mother kept reassuring him everything would be fine. He told Thomas he was OK with it. In reality he trusted Mother and he wanted to go back to watching his show. He really wanted to turn the TV up but thought Maria and Thomas might not want the noise. He sat and strained to hear as the judges hailed ordinary people as the next big thing. Something they had done countless times before. He silently rooted for them all to succeed, as he had done for years.

  Lying in bed that night Mother told him to sleep. She kept repeating that She would help him during the speech. He closed his eyes and sleep came quickly.

  His last thought was how tiring doing nothing could be.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I slept fitfully and felt exhausted as the alarm clock woke me at six-thirty on Sunday morning. Maria was already in the kitchen when I wandered in ten minutes later.

  “Sleep well?” She asked.

  I didn’t answer her but just stood in the doorway blearily looking at her.

  “Yeah, me neither.” She replied to my mute response.

  She made us both a coffee and we stood leaning on my kitchen counters i
n contemplative silence, cradling our mugs. Both of us unsure of how to change the course of the ride we were on. We could both see the potential for harm this could cause. We were being swept along by forces that should have been protecting us but seemed to be acting in the polar opposite way.

  John wandered in halfway through our peaceful, worrisome reverie. He looked half asleep, rubbing his tired eyes in an effort to wake himself up fully. Maria fussed around him.

  “You OK? Do you want coffee? Anything eat?” They had bonded and Maria had become the physical mother he’d previously only ever had mentally.

  I continued staring into space and finishing my coffee, delaying the inevitable.

  We gradually got ourselves ready; washing and dressing. Maria still buzzed around John making sure he looked his best for the ordeal to come.

  At seven-forty-five we stood outside my front door waiting for the lift, the itinerary told us was due. The morning was bright already, the air was still. We stood wearing our Sunday best enjoying the early morning sun.

  Ten minutes later a large black Vauxhall Insignia pulled to a stop in the middle of the road. The driver got out leaving the vehicle idling and opened the rear door for Maria and John to get in. I opened the passenger door, climbed in and put on my seatbelt. The driver got in behind the wheel, put the car in drive and we pulled forward. Once we got to the main road I looked across at our driver. His face was familiar although I couldn’t place him.