CHAPTER FORTY-THREE: The Breath of Life
John wandered down the side aisle of St Peter’s.
There was a meeting taking place, in one of the side rooms. John could hear Mark’s voice, rising up above the other voices.
“Yes, I know, Murray!” Mark said. “I was totally against the man! What can I say: ‘God works in mysterious ways!’”
“‘Mysterious ways’?” Murray said, “Mark, I’m seriously concerned you’re developing some kind of multiple personality disorder.”
John poked his head around the corner – was he serious? But the older man’s face was warm, and smiling.
Mark laughed. “Can’t blame you for that one, Murray.”
“I still think this Joshua is an imposter!” Pastor Luke said.
“Yes, yes,” Mark replied, “and tell me, what do you know about demonic possession?”
“Demonic possession?” Luke explored. “Well, the person has to submit to Christ to be delivered.”
“Apparently not,” Mark said.
“Not?” Father Andrew asked. “A person can be exorcised by a priest, by God’s Spirit, but faith is important…”
“I don’t think this one had faith, though I might be wrong.”
“Who was it?”
“My daughter.”
The room was silent. John stood very still, in plain view – and Father Andrew spoke again.
“Does she need prayer?”
“Always,” Mark murmured. “I will always pray for her.”
“And the exorcism?”
“Already done.”
“By which priest?”
Now Mark turned, and looked straight at John. “By which priest?” he murmured, rising to his feet toward him. “This priest.”
And he reached out his hands, and grasped John’s between his own.
John flushed, but held Mark’s eyes – his gratitude.
“Join us,” Mark said, and John shifted a little awkwardly.
“I don’t know…”
“That’s all right,” Murray said. “You are free to come and go as you please.”
John bowed his head, and looked amongst the faces. So diverse! So many different churches.
“Diversity makes as stronger,” Mark said.
“I agree!” John said. “As long as we follow the same Master.”
“Yes,” Mark said brightly, “as long as we follow the same Master.”
John shook the hands of the ministers present – he held their gaze. And then he moved toward the door.
“You still have that project to work on,” Mark said, smiling – and John remembered. Then he wandered out of the room, down the side aisle, and into the church.
The altar, and the cross, remained.
John wandered up to the inner sanctuary. The silver cup and plate were still there. The blood of Christ! The body of Christ.
He pulled out the five bullets from his pocket. Death – a symbol of death, but not of life…
He heard raised voices, now, in the meeting room alongside – he heard one voice: the familiar voice of his beloved friend.
He laid the bullets on the altar – and then Joshua was alongside him.
“The body and the blood,” John murmured to him. “What should I do, Master? What new symbol can we make?”
Joshua passed his hand over the bullets, and they were repaired – and now they were gold.
“The bullet is the sign of my death,” he said, “and the sign of your life.”
“Like the cross…” John murmured. “But how can we take it into our bodies and hearts?” he asked. “Your offering into us, like the bread and wine?”
Joshua breathed over him. “Breathe deep, John,” he said. “God’s Spirit is the breath of life. I gave up my breath for you – I give God’s breath for you.”
John took in Joshua’s deep breath. It was for him, now! Cleansing; bringing life.
“Not new,” John murmured, and Joshua smiled.
“No, my beloved friend,” he said. “Not new at all.”
And then he was gone.
John laid his hand on the cup, and the plate – over the wine and bread – and breathed deep. The love of God! The light of God! He knew them, now! He felt them! He housed them. He longed to share them.
Breathe deep…
It was time to pass the breath of life on.
A New Kind of Zeal Page 43