Fire Of Heaven 03 - Fire of Heaven

by Bill Myers

  Brandon sat watching as Reverend Jimmy Tyler played the crowd, strutting back and forth across the sixty-foot stage. Late fifties, three-piece suit, flashing silver hair — the man literally looked like a Hollywood actor. In many ways he was. He even used the streams of sweat trickling down his face to their fullest advantage — constantly dabbing at them with his handkerchief. And then there were his dramatic pauses, when he poured water from a nearby pitcher and took gulps from a glass. The man was a pro in every sense of the word.

  Brandon turned back to the audience, straining to see past the glare of lights. The L.A. Forum held 18,500 people, and by the looks of things, the place was packed out. Packed out and worked up. Between the forty-piece orchestra, the international choir, and Jimmy Tyler’s electrifying delivery, they had no choice but to be. There wasn’t an indifferent soul in the house.

  “I don’t care whether you call him God or Allah or Krishna or Buddha, or some Cosmic Force. The point is, God is love. Everybody say that …”

  The audience joined him: “God is love.”

  Brandon sat in the third tier of seats on the left of the stage. There were about thirty guests on this side. And thirty more on the other. That made sixty guests representing various races, religions, and creeds. Sixty guests whose presence proved their solidarity behind Jimmy Tyler.

  “Now, I don’t know ’bout you, but I’m sick and tired, I mean I’m fed up to here, ’bout everybody with their own special brand of religion, their own private interpretation of God.” He raised his voice into a pinched, mocking tone. “‘Well, Reverend, God never does it their way, He only does it my way. Well, Reverend, God doesn’t speak through their holy book, He only speaks through mine. Well, Reverend, God only visits my church or my synagogue or my mosque or my temple.’ Well, I got news for you, folks, God can go wherever He wants. He can come in any form He wants to touch and heal and bless whoever He wants. And you want to know why? I’ll tell you why. God is …”

  He stuck the microphone out toward the audience. A portion called back, “Love.”

  “Hey.” He tapped the mike. “You folks awake out there? I said, God is …”

  Again they repeated, only this time louder. “Love!”

  “I can’t hear you. God is …”

  “LOVE!”

  “You think we can remember it these next few minutes?” The audience responded positively, but he shook his head, chuckling. “I have my doubts.”

  The crowd ate it up. So did Brandon’s peers sitting on the stage. But not Brandon. Instead, he felt a growing knot of emotion … part embarrassment, part confusion, part frustration.

  “This is not a time to dwell upon petty doctrinal differences. I don’t care what cemetery, er, I mean, seminary you folks are from.”

  The audience chuckled.

  “If you ask me, most of them folks are educated way beyond their intelligence, anyways.”

  More laughter.

  “No, this isn’t a time to dwell on our differences, this is a time to dwell upon God’s love. Because if there’s one thing God is, it’s …”

  Everyone shouted, “LOVE!”

  Brandon continued to watch. It was the mixture of truth and error that he found so confusing. Yes, God was love and yes, He hated religious pride and spiritual elitism. But wasn’t it Jesus himself who said the road to heaven was narrow, that He alone was the door, that He was the only way to the Father?

  Tyler continued. “So what about all of these plagues, this famine, these financial hard times sweeping the globe? What about all these holier-than-thou, self-righteous Bible thumpers who are jumping up and down screaming, ‘It’s the judgment of God, it’s the judgment of God!’ Well, I got news for you, folks. That God sure as … heaven … ain’t my God!”

  There was a smattering of applause.

  “You’ve all seen the news. Right now eight people in the world are starving to death every second. Eight people! And most of them are innocent babies and children who can’t fend for themselves. Innocent babies and children starving to death? Because of God? No, friends, I don’t think so. That may be somebody’s God, but it sure ain’t mine.”

  The applause increased.

  “‘I’ve come that ye might have life and have it abundantly.’ That’s what my God says.”

  More applause.

  “And what about this Scorpion virus? In seven months they’re claiming that if there’s no cure, over half of the Jewish and Arab population will be wiped out. Over half! That’s genocide, folks, plain and simple. I don’t know about you, but that’s not my God. It may be somebody’s God … but He’s sure not mine!”

  More applause, louder.

  “And these wars? Any minute some third power wanna-be is going to nuke his neighbor, contaminating the rest of the world until we’re all giving birth to three-headed babies. I don’t know. That may be somebody’s God … but He’s sure not mine!”

  Brandon continued to marvel, amazed at how the man could use truth to preach error. How he could quote Scripture to speak falsehood. Yes, God was a God of love, but he’d read in the Bible again and again that God also used suffering to correct and judge. And it clearly taught that that’s what would happen in the end times. So how could Tyler preach that these calamities were just an accident? How was it possible for him to use the Bible to disprove the Bible? Then again, wasn’t that exactly what Satan had done with Jesus when he tempted Him in the wilderness? Used God’s truth to tell a lie?

  But was Tyler even aware he was doing this? Here was a man who had given his entire life to the gospel, just as Brandon and Sarah had. And what of the hundreds of thousands of lives he’d touched? If the two of them could reach only a fraction of those Tyler had reached, their ministry would be more than a success. And it wasn’t just the numbers. According to Cassandra, he’d once spent time doing those invisible acts of love, those self-sacrificing acts that others never even knew about. This had been a man who had loved God and had given everything he had to serve Him.

  But now …

  “And what about these out-of-control terrorists with their biological weapons that could wipe out an entire city in seventy-two hours? That may be somebody’s God …”

  By now the audience had picked up his cadence, finishing the line with him. “… but He’s sure not mine!”

  It was then Brandon felt something stirring and emerging through all the other emotions. He’d felt it once before, when his father’s church was under attack. It was welling up inside of him again. Deep, powerful, unwavering. Anger, but not anger. Something stronger.

  “And people today, they’re so terrified of these financial crashes that their hearts are literally failing from fear. Did you know that right now the suicide rate in every country is higher than it’s ever been in the history of the world? I don’t know. That may be somebody’s God …”

  “… but He’s sure not mine!”

  Part of the stirring Brandon felt came from the lies, but there was more.

  “My God of love promised us peace! Peace among men, peace of mind, peace of the pocketbook! That’s what my God of love is about. And God is love, God is love, God is …” He held out the microphone.

  “LOVE!”

  “You want a vengeful God? Fine. That may be somebody’s God …”

  “… but He’s sure not mine.”

  The sensation raced through Brandon’s body like fire until it began to condense somewhere in the center of his chest. So powerful that it surprised, even scared him. Of course God was love, but it was a deeper love, one that involved holiness. If he’d learned anything from his brief encounter at the hospital it was that God’s love is not a love giving us whatever we want, whenever we want it … His is a love that withholds and even disciplines … a love that doesn’t desire to give us the best, but that desires to make us the best.

  Suddenly Brandon understood the sensation consuming him. This anger taking over his heart and mind was not because of the lies. Misrepresentation didn’
t threaten God. It was because of what the lies were doing to His people. How they were being ripped off and sold a cheapened bill of goods. How they were being duped into believing in a superficial God of superficial love who had no interest in making them whole.

  And the more Tyler preached, the stronger Brandon’s rage grew until he could barely stand it. His breathing increased. His heart pounded in his ears.

  “Dear God,” he whispered. “What’s happening to me?”

  There was no answer. Only the memory of the promise he’d been given in the hospital. “My words will become a fire in your mouth that you cannot contain.”

  And still Jimmy Tyler continued to preach … and still the fire burned and grew and raged.

  CHAPTER 7

  SARAH SAT AT THE front of the arena in the roped-off section for VIPs and their families. So far she had to admit that it had been quite a show. The orchestra, the choir, and the soloists had all worked hard to bring the audience into a spirit of love and unity. And they had succeeded. Wonderfully. In fact, Sarah couldn’t remember a time she’d felt more inspired to reach out and love her fellow human being.

  The pretaped endorsements by top world dignitaries had also helped. Respected men and women, both religious and political, everybody from the Dalai Lama to an emissary from the

  pope, to the UN secretary general, to the vice president. Tyler’s folks didn’t miss a beat. They even ended the segment with a prerecorded statement by Lucas Ponte — although Sarah had to admit that she really hadn’t paid that much attention to what he’d said. She was too busy reflecting on how this was the same man who’d personally phoned her, and musing upon how his looks held up even when projected upon a forty-foot screen. Then, of course, there was the other matter, the one of his invitation for her to come to Nepal. She had discussed it several times with Brandon, and though he seemed strangely uneasy about their being separated, he wasn’t entirely closed to the idea.

  Finally Jimmy Tyler himself had taken the stage. Everyone was so primed and ready that the man could have hiccuped and gotten a standing ovation. But he did more than that. A lot more. Even though Sarah didn’t appreciate his flashy showmanship, she had to admit it was impossible not to get caught up in his message … and in the enthusiasm of those surrounding her.

  Still, something wasn’t right. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something. Maybe it was the way he threw Christianity in with all of the other religions, insisting that it was just one of many roads to spirituality. But there was something else. She knew Brandon hated being in front of people — the poor guy’s knees nearly buckled when he tried to make a speech at their wedding reception. She also knew he wasn’t crazy about appearing to endorse Jimmy Tyler. Still, there he was, doing both, and for that her respect for him only increased. But, as Tyler spoke, she noticed Brandon’s growing restlessness. Since she was in the audience sitting low and close to the front of the stage, and since he sat on the third riser behind two rows of guests, it wasn’t always possible to see him. But from the glimpses she caught, she could tell he was definitely uncomfortable. A fidget here, a shift of his weight there. Maybe she was just being overly sensitive. Maybe no one else noticed. But the more his anxiety increased, the more her uneasiness rose. She forced herself to look back at the preacher. He’d opened his Bible and was starting to read.

  “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil.” He looked up. “Do you folks hear that? God wants us to have peace, not evil. And it’s not just in this book. I know you’ll find the same thing in the Koran, the Bhagavad Gita, any of them other holy books.” He turned to the group of guests on either side. “Am I right, folks?”

  Several nodded and agreed.

  “You bet I’m right. And you want to know why? Because our God is the same God.”

  Once again Sarah caught a glimpse of Brandon. Now she noticed his face. Was it the lights, or was he getting redder? Even under the makeup he almost seemed to glow … and then there was the sweat. His entire forehead was covered in beads of perspiration. Dear Lord, she prayed, help him relax.

  Tyler was back in his Bible. “Then shall ye call upon Me, and ye shall go and pray unto Me, and I will hearken unto you.” He looked out to the audience. “You got that people? It’s right here in the book of Jeremiah, plain as the nose on your face. If we pray, God has to harken unto us, He has to listen. He has no choice in the matter, it’s in the contract. He’s legally obligated. And you know why? Because He says so! It’s right here.” He gave the book a rap. “It was true 2500 years ago when he wrote the book of Jeremiah, and it’s true today. The Word of God does not change, folks. The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: but the word of our God shall stand forever! Forever! How long will it stand?” He held out the mike.

  “Forever!” the audience shouted back.

  “Now you’re catchin’ on.” The audience clapped as Tyler wiped down his face and poured another glass of water.

  Sarah mechanically joined in the applause as she tried to catch another glimpse of Brandon. A loud plop suddenly drew her attention back to Tyler. The man had thrown his Bible down on the stage.

  “Ask me what I’m doing.” He grinned. “Go ahead, ask me what I’m doing?”

  Some of the crowd shouted, “What are you doing?”

  “What’s that?”

  More responded. “What are you doing?”

  He hopped up on the Bible with one foot and grinned. “I’m standing on the Word of God.”

  The audience laughed.

  “Now you little old ladies, don’t get your undies in a bunch. I’m trying to make a point here. This holy book is a foundation stone for our society. Fact, some would say for the whole world, am I right?”

  More agreement and applause.

  “But I’ve got more than one foot, don’t I? Well, don’t I?”

  The audience shouted back the affirmative.

  Continuing to balance, Tyler looked offstage into the wings and shouted, “Boys, can you give me a hand here?” Immediately a half-dozen men ran out onto the stage, each holding a book. “Who’s got the Torah?” Tyler asked. A man held out the book. Tyler nodded, “Just set it down there.” The man set the book down on the stage near Tyler then stepped back and turned to exit. “What about the Koran?” Tyler asked. Another man raised his book. Tyler nodded, and the man set his book on the other side and exited. “The Bhagavad Gita?” Another man stepped forward and put down his book.

  Still on one foot and struggling to keep his balance, Tyler sped up the process. “Go ahead, set them others down, boys — anywhere will do.” They obeyed, setting their books on the stage around him, and then turned to leave.

  Tyler’s balance grew shakier. “We’ve got more than one foot, so don’t we need more than one stone? Isn’t that how we stop from falling over?” He grew even more unsteady. “Isn’t it?”

  Several shouted back. “Yes!”

  His wobbling grew worse. “Isn’t it?”

  More shouted, “Yes!”

  He was beginning to sway, hopping up and down on the one foot. “Isn’t it!”

  The entire audience yelled, “YES!” just as Tyler fell forward, slapping his free foot down on one of the other books. He stood a moment, completely stable, catching his breath. Finally he looked up, grinning. “And that, folks, is called balance.”

  The crowd broke into applause and cheers.

  Jimmy laughed, enjoying it as much as the audience. “Do you understand what I’m sayin’?” He began walking on the other books. “We need these other stones, we need these other beliefs. Otherwise we’d topple over, we’d fall flat on our arrogant, spiritually proud faces. Do you hear me? Differences are good! It’s the only way to keep our balance.”

  The crowd clapped in agreement.

  As Tyler continued to walk from book to book, something to his left briefly caught his attention. He ignored it and turned back to the audience. “These are our foundation
stones, folks. Not just one rock, not just one belief, but several. They all work together in unison to hold up our society, to give us a better stance and help us keep our balance. And that’s why we’re here tonight, folks. We’re coming together as one balanced people!”

  Again, something caught his attention, this time a little longer. And, again, he continued. “We’re coming together in unity, putting aside our petty religious differences — ” Again, he was distracted. There was a commotion up on one of the risers. Sarah craned her neck and to her surprise saw it was Brandon. He had risen to his feet. Others surrounding him were tugging on his sleeve, urging him to sit back down. But he paid little attention. His face was red and he was trembling.

  “Reverend Tyler …”

  At first Tyler tried to ignore him and continue. “Admitting that on our own none of us has all the answers, but when we’re united —”

  “Reverend Tyler!”

  Soon everyone onstage and in the audience was staring at him. Tyler could no longer ignore him. He looked over and grinned. “What’s a matter, son?”

  Brandon took a step down from his row toward the stage. His voice was thin and shaky. “Reverend Tyler?”

  Tyler continued smiling. “Time for a potty break?”

  The audience chuckled. Sarah stiffened as Brandon continued down the steps to the stage.

  Tyler gave a nearly imperceptible glance at the security guards who stood down in front of the stage near Sarah. They moved in preparation, but Tyler shook his head, indicating that for now he had it under control. They nodded and he turned back to Brandon. “We’ll be over in just a few minutes, son, if you think you can hold it.”

  More chuckles, but the audience’s curiosity was definitely growing.

  Gripping the arms of her chair, Sarah noticed how wet her palms had become. What is he doing? What is he doing!

  “You speak from the Bible …” Because Brandon had no microphone, his voice sounded hollow as the other mikes onstage picked him up. “You speak from the prophet Jeremiah. But he has other words as well. Other words for you.”