A Different Communion

by R Thomas Brown

  A DIFFERENT COMMUNION

  By R Thomas Brown

  A DIFFERENT COMMUNION

  Copyright © 2010 R Thomas Brown

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission of the Author. Your support of author’s rights is appreciated.

  All characters in this compilation are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  A DIFFERENT COMMUNION

  Father Daniels knelt over the old woman. Her face, so recently distorted and wracked with pain, was now slack and relaxed. He placed his hand on her still warm face and closed her eyes. After crossing himself, he stood and nodded his shared sorrow to the family members who hovered around him. “She will now find her rest with the Lord.”

  “Thank you, Father. I’m sorry it was she was, well, difficult.” The man, hunched over from the effects of gravity and a long life, extended his crooked fingers and wrinkled hand.

  Father Daniels grasped the man’s hand with both of his. “Many lose their way and cannot see the path back to the Lord. She led a confused life, but the Lord never lost sight of her. He welcomes her now to his bosom with the others who have gone before.” He waited for the hope to return to the tearful eyes and the released his grip.

  After navigating the gathering of family and friends, many who thanked him and others who would not meet his eyes, Father Daniels exited the well-maintained Victorian home and made his way down the cobblestone path to his car. As he drove away, thinking about the brief protest of the old woman, he passed a car with a striking driver.

  Behind the wheel of the oncoming car, sat a man in dark clothes with a banded collar. If not for the absence of the white tab, Father Daniels would have thought the man to be another priest, though he knew the only other priest in the area was Monsignor Phillips, the old priest at the local parish.

  Though curious, Father Daniels had many tasks to attend to that day and he decided against further observation of the intriguing figure. It was a short drive from the tree-lined homes up on the hill to the church offices at the bottom and due to the slope it required more breaking than acceleration. On most days, Father Daniels enjoyed the easy ride back, but the brief objection to the delivery of Last Rites stuck with him.

  When he arrived at the church, Monsignor Phillips was waiting for him outside. Despite his advanced age, the Monsignor was at least eighty though he refused to give his real age when queried, he was a tall, strong man who radiated vigor. He appearance made it seem that he could force salvation into any small crack that appeared in the sinner’s refusal.

  Seeing the stern priest outside reminded Father Daniels of his arrival in Martburgh just a few months before. Father Daniels had requested a small parish, and the advancing age of the Monsignor, and the supposed approaching retirement, made that the ideal location for Daniels to begin his life away from the scholastic life. The day Father Daniels arrived, Phillips stood outside the church, holding a bucket and a toolbox.

  A recent flood had left many area buildings and home is disrepair, and Father Daniels was put to work immediately rebuilding homes. It was very unlike the life he had lived while at seminary and then with further studies, but it was exactly what he needed to become one with the community. Daniels always cherished that early experience, and the gruff Monsignor who brought him into his new life so effectively.

  That day, the Monsignor seemed tough, but benevolent, like an old teacher one appreciates only later. However, as Father Daniels exited his car and approached the Monsignor, he saw none of the kindness he recalled.

  “Father Daniels, may I ask where you were today?” Phillips’ arms were crossed over his chest and the tall man stared down his nose at Father Daniels who, though six feet tall, was dwarfed by the older priest.

  “I was administering Last Rites to Ann Holcomb. Her husband called and asked if I was available.” Daniels stared up at the Monsignor, not frightened but confused at the strange questions and temperament.

  “I see. And why didn’t you consult me before making such a trip?”

  Father Daniels stood silent for several seconds. “Father, I must admit I am a bit confused by the question. Though she had fallen away, she was a baptized member of the Church and was in periculo mortis. I could not in good conscience ignore the request to absolve a Christian in danger of death.”

  “Father Daniels, are you aware that she was guilty of the sin of schism and had been excommunicated?”

  Father Daniels shook his head in confusion. “I knew that she had not been at mass, and it was apparent from the gathering that she may have been attending another church, but as I said, she was in danger of death. I assure you, all was done in compliance with Church doctrine. Had she not been in danger of death, I would have had no authority, but no one baptized into the Church need suffer on their death bed with no hope of absolution.”

  Phillips took in a deep breath and turned back toward the building. “Come with me, Father. It is time I shared something with you.”

  Father Daniels followed the Monsignor into his office, and sat in a comfortable leather chair. He looked across a large desk at the aged priest, and took note of the anger that lied buried behind a face that had hidden darker thoughts for years. A priest could not afford to express some emotions to the parishioners, and the Monsignor had been a priest a long time.

  Daniels noticed the anger’s continued presence as the older priest recalled a story about his first assistant more ten years before. “When Ben Howard arrived, he was eager to begin work. He immersed himself in the community and worked hard every day trying to bring people to Christ. He worked harder than any man I have ever known, but he was flawed.”

  “Flawed?”

  “Yes. From the moment he arrived, there was something strange about him. He was charismatic, but in a way that made me uneasy in his presence. I was disappointed, but not surprised, when he revealed his true colors.”

  Monsignor Phillips recalled a visit from Father Howard late one day. Father Howard was certain that a man whose confession he heard would commit a heinous act against a young woman. He wanted to warn the woman in danger, but it would violate the sanctity of the confessional. After hours of consultation, they decided that they could warn the woman in general terms to be careful, but that Father Howard could not divulge what was told to him.

  Despite their efforts, the woman was raped. Father Daniels had heard other stories of the danger of the confidentiality of the confessional, but he also knew that the confidence of the sinner that his sins would be shared with no one was the only way for confession to work. Sinners needed to confess before God, and the confessor served only to bring them together, not to sit in mortal judgment of the sinner.

  Father Daniels knew that he would have difficulty with the situation, just as Father Howard had. Phillips continued his story, and Father Daniels developed even more sympathy for the conflict ridden Father Howard. After the rape, the young woman, barely eighteen, became pregnant. There was little doubt who the father was, though the attacker had not been caught, and due to fear and shame, the woman had not sought out the police after the attack.

  The series of events proved too much for Father Howard. He went to Monsignor Phillips and told him that he would be going to the police to inform them of what he knew. Monsignor Phillips cautioned the priest to resist the sinful urge. Violation of the sanctity of the confession was a sin punishable by latae sententiae excommunication. Monsignor Phillips would not be able to absolve him of the automatic penalty, as a sin so grave could only be forgiven
by the Holy See.

  The Monsignor’s warnings fell on disillusioned, deaf ears and Father Howard informed the police. The man was caught and many in the community felt that Father Howard was a hero. He had stepped out of the bonds of tradition to do what he thought was right. The Monsignor did not feel that way. Father Howard was stripped of his duties and not allowed to participate in mass.

  Many in the church felt as Father Howard did, and left the congregation with him. At that point in the story, Monsignor Phillips stood from his chair and paced across the room. He walked silently, staring at the pictures of Popes and Bishops that adorned his office.

  “You see, Father Daniels, Father Howard led many from the Church. They followed him, rather than Christ. I’m sure that was always his goal. Though I have tried to bring them back, they all sit separated from the Church because a priest followed his own conscience rather than the advice of the body of Christ.”

  “Father, that is a true tragedy. I can see that you’re hurt, both by the danger that these people have placed themselves in, and because the priest was under your watch. However, we can’t allow personal pain to interfere when one of God’s children is in need. When death beckons them, we must be there to hear their confession and absolve them of sin.”

  Monsignor Phillips turned to stare at Father Daniels. The anger was now in the open, and the old features that had hidden the emotion now magnified it. “Do not lecture me on the duties of a priest. I have been serving the needs of this flock longer than you have been alive.” He turned from Father Daniels. “Those people follow a man who cares nothing for the sanctity of confession and advised that young woman to seek an abortion. No matter what you think, that woman you saw did not give herself to God in your presence.”

  “Father, you may be right.”

  “I am right! They belong to him now. You can’t save them.”

  “Even so, I did her no harm in going to her. In my estimation, she saw the light in her last moments, and I granted her absolution. I understand that you may question my judgment in this matter, but I would do it again.”

  “Is that some sort of challenge, Father?”

  Father Daniels furrowed his brow at the accusation. “No, Monsignor. I am merely saying that if you have a problem with my judgment, perhaps you should request a new priest be assigned to this parish. I will understand and will not fight it, though I have grown quite attached to the community and the parishioners here.” Father Daniels waited for a response. Realizing the silence would continue, he rose from his chair and stepped toward the door.

  “Wait.”

  Father Daniels stood in place, though he did not turn to face the Monsignor.

  “I have no desire to ask for a replacement.” The Monsignor’s voice was weaker than before and Daniels could hear him move back toward his chair.

  Daniels turned back to the room and saw Monsignor Phillips in his chair, with his head hung low.

  “You have been good for the people here. I won’t work forever, and they are comfortable coming to you. I don’t wish to rob them of your presence.”

  “Thank you, Monsignor.” Father Daniels started to exit again.

  “Will you do me one favor, Father?”

  Daniels stood erect. “Of course, Monsignor. What is it you need?”

  “I need you to meet Ben Howard.”

  “Why, sir?”

  “You are a strong willed and yet open minded priest, Father Daniels. I think you’ll be able to communicate with him better than I can. Perhaps you will be able to convince him to come back to the Church. It’s unlikely but possible. You were after all, apparently able to bring one of his followers back, even if it was assisted by the specter of death.”

  “I’ll do my best, Monsignor. I shall arrange to meet with him as soon as possible.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No, thank you, Monsignor. And thank you for deciding to keep me here.”

  “Good luck, Father Daniels.”

  Father Daniels smiled and exited to the waiting area outside the office. As he began his way down the hall to his own office he heard a faint “you’ll need it” from behind.

  ***

  After the short drive to the New Revelation Church, Father Daniels sat in the dark waiting room, surrounded by knotted wood walls and deep red carpet. Behind him, through a closed door, sat a receptionist who seemed very kind. Before him stood a closed door with a nameplate indicating it was Ben Howard’s office. Father Daniels sat patiently waiting to be welcomed by the religious leader who inspired such emotion from the old Monsignor.

  At the moment Father Daniels began to feel impatient, the door to Ben Howard’s office opened and a tall man with black hair and bright blue eyes that seemed translucent stepped out to welcome him. “Father Daniels?”

  Daniels nodded and stood from his chair. Standing, he could see that Ben Howard was at least half a foot taller than Father Danielseven taller than Monsignor Phillips.

  Ben Howard reached out his thick arm and beckoned Father Daniels toward him by curling his long fingers. “Please, come in. Would you like something to drink?”

  “No, thank you. I’m fine.” Father Daniels walked passed the man and into the office, passing by the sign that proclaimed the office belonged to “Father Howard.” He took a seat in a thin but comfortable chair and crossed his hands over his lap.

  “So, Father, what brings you here today?” Ben Howard took a seat in another thin chair, eschewing the larger chair behind the desk.

  “Well, Mr. Howard, I came to speak to you at the request of Monsignor Phillips.” Daniels arched his eyebrows at the ensuing laughter.

  “Has the Monsignor sent you to save me?”

  “I doubt that would be possible in a single day.” Father Daniels adjusted his position and sat forward. “However, I find it odd that you take that subject so lightly.”

  “Father Daniels, you’ll notice that I respect your office enough to call you Father, I have no desire to be saved back to the Holy Church. I’m sure the dear Monsignor told you about the circumstances surrounding my departure.”

  “He did. And I can see why you would have a crisis of faith over the circumstances.”

  “It’s far more than that, Father. I do not accept the God that allows his name to be tied to cowardice.”

  “Cowardice?”

  “Yes, Father. When a priest hides behind rules rather than take a risk to save another, it is cowardice. When priests hide behind rules because dealing with human tragedy is difficult, it is cowardice.”

  “Mr. Howard…”

  “Mister? Why do you refuse to offer me the respect I offer you?”

  “I do not feel it would be appropriate for me to refer to you with a spiritual title considering the opinion you have of God.”

  “Well then. I must say that I admire your conviction, deluded as you may be.”

  Father Daniels nodded his thanks. “As I was saying, it takes courage to remain true to your beliefs even when faced with difficult decisions. A coward does not take a stand. A coward takes the easy way out. Surely, you must understand that maintaining the sanctity of confession in the face of danger to another person, is far from easy.”

  “Perhaps cowardice is too strong a word, though I maintain that many of your brethren are cowards. Perhaps many of them are as you, simply misguided.”

  “In what way do you feel I am misguided, Mr. Howard?”

  Ben Howard stood and reached his hand down to Father Daniels. “Come. I want to show you some things.”

  Father Daniels took his hand, marveled at the warmth of it for a moment, and then rose from his chair. He followed Ben out the door and out to his car.

  “Please, hop in.”

  Father Daniels took a seat in the well-maintained, though aging, sedan. “Where are we going?”

  “I’d hate to ruin the surprise.”

  The trip down the hill, and out of town was a short one, though Father Daniels would not have believed the area he was
now in was only fifteen minutes from his offices at St. Catherine. Stray dogs and worn down trailers lined the road as he and Ben Howard drove slowly. At the end of the street was a small shack. Ben stopped the car outside the shanty.

  “Come on in. I want you to meet someone.”

  Father Daniels followed Ben into the dilapidated building, and took a few moments after entering to adjust to the lack of light. Slowly, he began to see old furniture, miscellaneous carpet scraps, and the remains of a meal that seems to lack any nutritional value. In a chair in the back of the room was a woman who appeared to be in her forties, though Father Daniels imagined that the quality of her life made her look older than she was.

  “This is Denise, Father Daniels. She’s the one that fell victim to the man I didn’t stop.”

  Father Daniels was not surprised by the news, he was certain that Ben Howard who take him somewhere that would help him justify his heresy. “It is a pleasure to meet you ma’am. Though I do not know you, I am pained by what happened to you those many years ago. If ever you need to talk to someone, please feel free to see me.”

  “I don’t wanna talk to you, or any of your kind.” Denise threw a cup of sour smelling coffee at the priest. “You could have stopped it, and you didn’t.” She turned her head and rested it in Ben Howard’s side.

  Ben patted her head before facing Father Daniels. “This is why I left. I could have stopped it, but I didn’t. I hid behind rules instead of doing what I knew was right. How can you stand there and support a Church that allows this to happen? How can you worship a God that allows this injustice in the name of faith?”

  Father Daniels looked at the sobbing woman. “Mr. Howard, perhaps we should continue our discussion outside. Discussing these events is obviously upsetting this poor woman. I think she has lived that nightmare enough times.” He waited for an agreeing nod and left the small home.

  “Well, Father. Now do you understand why I feel as I do?”

  “Of course, I understand. However, I could not disagree with you more.”