by S.A. Meyer
mere man can have."
Her eyes flashed to the altar, Todd's following.
Father Gary stood behind the baptism, the parents on both sides. They were speaking, most likely praying. It was impossible to hear over all of the ruckus.
Without any warning, Rebeckah pulled Todd toward her and pressed their lips together.
It surprised the sheriff for many reasons. Mainly because Rebeckah always seemed like the shy kind of girl, not one to make such a bold first move. And it didn't seem like her to do it during the middle of church.
But it was the first bit of intimacy he'd had since he left the north. And feeling her plump lips beneath his own felt nice.
Better than nice. They felt like Heaven.
Rebeckah pulled back. Her blush had returned with a vengeance making her face redden like a strawberry in the summer sun. She pulled her eyes out of their locked gaze.
"Sorry," she mumbled to her shoes.
"It's alright.” Todd pressed his lips together. He could taste her chap stick. He smiled before laughing softly. “Just unexpected is all.”
Todd noticed her shuffle away from him slightly and quickly added, “But not unappreciated.”
Rebeckah looked back up at him and smiled.
Before Todd could work up the nerve to ask her out the music had stopped and the noise began to die down as people returned to their seats.
Back on the altar Todd watched Father Gary as he handed the baby, who was swaddled in a bundle of soaked cloth, back to his parents.
The teary eyed mother and father carried him off of the altar and through the side door that Todd knew led to the recreational part of the church. Stephen the altar boy followed them dutifully.
"They're not staying for the rest of the service?" Todd whispered.
"They have to go prepare him for later. Don't worry. They'll be back in time for communion," Rebeckah explained.
"Cutting it kind of close, aren't they?"
Rebeckah smiled, but her eyes remained on the altar as she spoke. "It's one of our silly traditions. The parents prepare and help serve communion after the baptism.”
Todd shrugged.
Father Gary began to speak again. "A lot of people nowadays like to talk about the God they know." His voice wasn't loud yet it commanded attention.
"God doesn't love homosexuals. God doesn't love Muslims, or Jews, or atheists. Liberals nor Democrats."
The house of the Lord was silent, entranced by Father Gary. Even Todd found himself mesmerized by Father Gary's intensity.
"There is only one fact about God.” Father Gary raised one finger and held it up as everyone held their breath waiting for his words of wisdom. “He loves us; loves us so much that he's willing to forgive all of our sins. He sent His only Son to die for us so we could join Him in heaven. All he asks in return is that we forgive our neighbors as He forgives us."
"I'm sure by now everyone has heard about what happened." If there had been any movement before, it stopped. Everyone held their breath as they waited to see if Father Gary would go into detail.
Of course everyone knew what had happened, although few had actually been present.
"Don't worry. God will forgive your gossiping," he joked lightly, earning a few forced chuckles. Sheriff Todd didn't laugh.
He was one of the few people who knew the whole story. To his disgust he had a starring role in it.
"Caught up in a wave of recent tragedies, a mother saw evil where there was none. Her reason? I was a priest. She went to law demanding justice. Thankfully, our esteemed sheriff Todd wanted honest justice."
Somewhere in the mass of people, a soft clap started. Only a few people before it spread like wild fire. A hand clapped Todd's shoulder, a sign of masculine pride and affection. Everyone was smiling at him, none more so than Father Gary. He stood on the altar positively beaming at Todd, leaning heavily against his cane.
Todd bowed his head. Not in modesty, but in shame.
He hadn't believed in Father Gary's innocence. He allowed himself to be swept up in the witch hunt, guilty of letting his own beliefs blind him.
The applause finally died down. Todd couldn't look up. Remorse weighed heavily on his heart.
"While he was out searching for the truth, the mother decided that vengeance was better than justice."
Todd had been the first on the scene.
The wooden baseball bat had broken during the attack. It lay splintered on the ground next to the equally broken man.
He thought he'd been too late. He was sure that the priest was dead; as still as the grave surrounded by a slowly expanding pool of blood.
Almost as bad was the image of Martha being restrained by several townsmen. Her cheeks were flushed bright red and her breathing was heavy even though she'd stopped fighting back. A pleasant smile was on her face as madness glittered in her eyes.
"Hello, Sheriff Todd," she greeted calmly, as if she didn't have three grown men holding her down, or blood splattered across her face.
"Martha, what have you done?"
A hand on his pulled Todd free from the chains of his memory.
Rebeckah gazed at him, her face soft with compassion and her eyes full of understanding.
"It's not your fault," she whispered.
Todd smiled and nodded, not feeling particularly enthused about either.
"I have a metal plate in my head,” Father Gary’s voice snapped Todd’s attention back to the older man. “Doctors think I'm going to need this cane for the rest of my life.” Todd felt as if he was about to cry. His shoulders sagged as he took deep and steady breaths.
“But I forgive Martha."
There was a pause. No one breathed.
Father Gary continued. "'For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.' Matthew 6:14-15."
"It's easy to recite scripture. Parrots can do it.” Father Gary smiled and a few brave souls laughed lightly as his attempt at humor. Todd wasn’t one of them. “But to actually understand the words and practice them in day to day life is more difficult."
"Forgiveness isn't easy. But nothing that is right ever is."
Murmurs of agreement spread through the crowd.
"So today I want you to do something for me. Turn to someone who has wronged you, whatever injustice committed upon you no matter how slight or not so slight. Turn to them and confess your forgiveness to them. Look them in the eye and say, 'I forgive you,'."
Father Gary's eyes trapped Todd's in a forceful gaze. He couldn't look away.
"I forgive you," he repeated, voice as hard as steel.
Todd felt grateful, yet at the same time his shame increased. Not only was he at fault for this caring old man's brutal attack, the same man was kind enough to forgive him.
Never before had Todd witnessed such compassion, let alone had it bestowed upon him.
He felt unworthy.
Todd nodded to the priest in understanding and thanks. He smiled down at him, and in that moment Todd felt a great weight lift off of his shoulders. One he hadn't even known he'd been carrying around.
A small, delicate hand touched his drawing Todd's attention back to Rebeckah by his side.
"Are you alright?" She asked softly.
"I'm fine," he said with a smile. "Everything's great."
Father Gary's commanding voice filled the air. "'Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do.' Jesus spoke these words after being tortured, beaten, and abused. As he was dying, nailed to the cross, his concern was for the souls of those who out him there. Jesus was the Son of God, His only Son. If He can forgive the ones who betrayed him, murdered him, then we as mere men are able to forgive each other for our mortal sins."
Tears pressed against Todd's eyes. He managed to hold them back.
There was a moment of silence where Father Gary looked around the church making direct eye contact with everyone.
"Oh Lord," Father Gary started.
"Oh Lord," everyone repeated, Todd included.
"Help us to be more like You."
"Help us to be more like You."
"With your infinite wisdom and love, guide us to live as You live, love as you love." The priest's voice was full of passion lifting Todd's spirit. Trying to match his enthusiasm, Todd repeated the prayer with the others.
"For we are made in Your image, Your humble servants. Amen."
The final Amen rang through the crowd like a bell, signaling the end of the prayer. But to Todd it also signaled something else.
For the first time since he was a child Todd felt at peace.
A hole he hadn't even known existed had been filled in his heart.
The door behind the altar opened, releasing Kenny and Michelle as well at Stephen. The two adults each carried a silver dish piled high with something. Todd was too far away to see what it was. Stephen carried a large silver chalice. His slow and careful mannerism made Todd think that it was filled to the brim.
"Already?" Father Gary asked.
Stephen nodded as he placed the goblet in the center of the table before Kenny and Michelle placed their plates on either side.
Father Gary spread his arms over the plates and goblet. He threw his head back and began to speak in a loud and powerful voice.
"I tell you the truth, anyone who believes has eternal life. I am the bread of life! Your ancestors ate manna in the wilderness, but they all died. Anyone who eats the bread from heaven, however, will never die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Anyone who eats this bread will live forever; and this bread, which I