For the benefit of those watching from afar and hearing the news for the first time, Simon provided a summary of the act of faith and devotion his roommate had endured on Good Friday. He gave an overview of Honesto’s brief life, with a focus on Honesto’s involvement in the Church in his home village, giving an occasional look to the father for confirmation. The father nodded in reply, but Paige could tell he understood little, if any, of what was being said.
At first, Simon was glancing at one or another of the screens as he described his roommate. The glances became shorter and further apart, until he was no longer glancing at the screens or at the casket at all. His voice began to break. He had to pause regularly before being able to continue.
He told again, but this time in graphic detail, of what Honesto had done on that Good Friday in order to experience something of the pain that the Lord and Savior had endured. The footage showed Honesto collapsing to the ground, those around him rushing to his aid. Simon himself was there, next to Skye. Paige was visible on the periphery. The sounds of the Flock’s crying and praying for Honesto were overlaid with a moving orchestral score.
Simon continued with his script, which was fleshed out with passages from the Bible, from the Book of the Prophet, and from Reverend Lundquist’s new book. He quoted the passage praising a willingness to crawl across a thousand miles of broken glass if it would save one sinner’s soul. By the time the screens were showing Skye cradling Honesto’s head, looking heavenward in desperate frustration, most in the audience were either openly crying or struggling to hold back tears.
There was a final close-up of Honesto’s eyes, closing for the last time, his expression becoming peaceful as Skye sang to him. The shot faded to footage of the actor who played Obadiah, being lowered from the cross, eyes closed, head fallen in feigned death. The audience prayed and mourned. There was nothing of the ambulance, or of the Angels’ confrontation with the police, or of the crowd being made to disperse early.
Simon brought his reflections to a close with Scripture.
For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.
“The young man whose body lies before us today truly believed in Jesus. He was wholly devoted to the Lord, not only in word, but as proven in deed. Honesto gave his all for the one who gave his all for us.” Simon paused to wipe away a tear, struggling to maintain his composure. “May our brother, son, and friend, Honesto Buenaflor Tolosa, dwell in the house of the Lord forever – bathem.”
After a long moment of appropriate silence, the organist began playing a slow march in a minor key. Six Angels entered through the center doors. The audience stood as they marched silently, two by two, down the center aisle. Upon reaching the front, they spread and positioned themselves to the corners and sides of the casket, still marching in place. The music stopped. On the quiet command of the contingent’s leader, the six came to a sharp, unified halt. On a second command, they turned in unison and faced the audience, their heels clicking as they came to a position of attention. They stood silently, waiting. Reverend Lundquist approached the pulpit. He motioned the audience to take their seats.
“Brothers and Sisters in Christ – all present in God’s cathedral, all present in God’s valley, all in witness to God’s glory around the world – welcome and bathem.”
“Bathem!”
“It is our tradition on Easter Sunday to gather together to celebrate Christ’s resurrection, his victory over death, his victory over mortality and sin. This is the day of rejoicing, of new light, of rebirth, of promise – the morning upon which, when the disciples came to Jesus’ tomb, they found the stone rolled away, hallelujah, and the Lord and Savior risen, bathem.”
“Bathem!”
“But God had something different planned for us on this Easter Sunday morning. He had judged that we have become too comfortable in our tradition, too predictable in our expectations for this day, too stale in our response to the incredible sacrifice that He made two thousand years ago, too lukewarm to the miracle of His son’s resurrection. It is sad – but it is true.
“Yet when God sees our complacency, does He punish us? He could, of course. Perhaps He should. That’s surely what we deserve. When He sees His Flock’s enthusiasm and dedication waning and growing weak, does He abandon us? He could – but He does not. What does our gracious and forgiving Lord do? He gives us yet another gift. Yet – another – gift. He had already given us His one and only son, Jesus. He had already given us His prophet, Obadiah Skairn. But were these gifts enough? Apparently not – not enough to keep us serving Him with every ounce of our effort, with every fiber of our being, with every cell of our bodies, with every last breath of our souls. So today, God gives us yet another gift. Today, He gives us the gift of Honesto Buenaflor Tolosa, this boy of humble origin, this boy from halfway around the world, this boy who had nothing – yet gave everything. God called upon Honesto Tolosa to give – and Brother Honesto gave. He gave the gift of his devotion, of his pain, of his sacrifice, of his life.
“What would this young man say if he could speak to us this morning? Oh, but he is speaking to us, Brothers and Sisters in the Lord. He is shouting to us from heaven – if only our ears were open to hear. He is saying that if he did what he did, then we can do more than we do, and that if we can do more, we should do more. We could do so much more, Brothers and Sisters, if we summoned half of the courage and devotion that this young man has demonstrated, if we were willing to endure half as much discomfort as our brother Honesto endured. Yes, while others marched along in relative comfort on Friday, having enjoyed a nice breakfast, knowing that they would endure a mere single-day fast on Saturday until they would eat again Sunday morning – Brother Honesto didn’t want to be comfortable. He had fasted for a full week in order to leave his body and soul empty, empty and open to be filled with God’s spirit. When it came time to walk behind the cross, did he put on his most comfortable sandals for the walk to the Hill? That’s what most of us did, wasn’t it? No, Brother Honesto longed to know something of what our Lord Jesus felt when his flesh was opened and exposed by the soldier’s whip. Brother Honesto knew that our Lord’s pain and blood were the price of our redemption, and he wanted to understand, he longed to know, he wanted to grasp and to be fully aware of what our Lord’s price had been.
“Brothers and Sisters in Christ, I stand before you today to tell you that it’s true: we can’t know and truly appreciate something that we’ve never experienced ourselves. I ask you, can we really be Christ-ians, can we really be Christ-like, without suffering any of the discomfort and pain that our Lord suffered?
“Now, I will tell you this: There are many pastors standing behind pulpits around the world this morning telling their congregations that our Lord and Savior suffered and died so that we don’t have to suffer. So that we don’t have to die. And you know what? Those pastors are right. Yes, they’re right. According to the scripture, technically, they are right. We don’t have to suffer. We don’t have to die. All that Jesus asks of us is to believe in him and to accept his sacrifice and his love in order for us to be saved and to live with him someday in heaven. Around the world, there are a great many who call themselves Christians who are doing just that this morning – the bare minimum that God requires – and those people may go to heaven – I don’t know. That is for God to decide, and our God is a very forgiving God. But I ask you, is it Christ-like to do the bare minimum? Is doing the bare minimum Christian? Did our Lord and Savior do the bare minimum for us? Oh no. No, my brothers and sisters, he did not. He did the most he could do, the most that could be done. He endured all. He gave everything. As Christians, should we not be following our Lord’s lead in doing the most that we can do, in sacrificing the most that we can sacrifice for his glory?”
The reverend’s message had grown warmer and more fervent with each sentence, his cadence rolling and building, the emphasis coming in rhythmic, punching combin
ations.
“God has given us today this gift, this gift that lies here before us, this message, this special sign. And why? Why now? A great time is coming, Brothers and Sisters in the Lord, and I believe that God is telling us that the great time is already upon us – but only if we’re ready to do our part, only if we’re ready to answer God’s call, only if we’re prepared to do what He needs for us to do to make it happen. The Bible tells us that in the last days there will be wars and rumors of wars, that nation will rise against nation, kingdom against kingdom, that there shall be famines, and pestilences, and earthquakes, and these are only the beginning of the sorrows to come. It tells us that His Church will be hated by all nations, and that many false prophets shall rise and shall deceive, but those who endure unto the end, they will be saved. It tells us that this gospel of God’s kingdom shall be preached unto all the world, that we will stand as a witness unto all nations; and then shall the end come, hallelujah and bathem! How many more signs do we need? Is this not the end of times?”
A mighty outpouring of concurrence flowed from the Flock. Paige had almost forgotten about the Angels, still standing at attention around the casket, but one had twitched his nose and head slightly, as though he had an itch that he wasn’t allowed to scratch.
“I ask you, Brothers and Sisters, how much further can this world sink into sin and malaise before God once more smites the proud and the wicked, before God once more washes His creation clean? How much more materialistic and hedonistic can the youth of this once great nation become before the nation buckles to its knees, before the utter absence of spirituality and humility makes this nation so weak that it’s overrun by the forces of evil? How hard is it to stand by and watch the youth of other cultures, from other parts of the world, those who don’t even worship the one true God, conducting themselves with more dedication, more piety, and more modesty in dress and custom than the youth of what was once the greatest Christian nation on earth? Is not the time for a great change upon us? Surely God is ready for His Church to lead this nation back, and for this nation to lead the world back to righteousness. If only . . . If only . . .”
He had been pacing the stage. He paused at the pulpit to take a drink of water.
“If only His Church were ready to lead. Are we ready, my Flock? Are we ready – each and every one of us?” He found the camera with the red light lit. “Are we ready, each and every one of us watching at home? Are we ready to do as much as this young man lying before us has done? I stand here as witness that if we are ready to be God’s bright torches, God is ready to set this nation and this world on fire.”
The audience shouted and praised God.
“If we can give fully of ourselves, if we can give anything near the devotion and humility and self-sacrifice that Brother Honesto has given, we can provide this nation with the moral compass that it so desperately needs. Can we not pray together today, can we not beg God, plead with God, to use us as He will – to ask anything of us and we will give it? Can we not ask God to use us to bring this proud nation back down to its knees, to use us to turn this proud nation back to its God-fearing roots, back to its foundation, so that this proud nation will fall on the ground before the great Jehovah on High and kneel in worship before the Lord God Almighty, the King of Kings?”
He wiped his brow with his handkerchief as the Flock pleaded to heaven with raised hands and falling tears for it to be so.
“This is not a funeral today, Brothers and Sisters. Oh no, it is not. On this Easter Morning, this is not a funeral – this is a celebration. This is a celebration of resurrection, of victory over sin, of victory over death. Honesto Buenaflor Tolosa is not here – not the part of him that matters anyway. No, what lies before us today is only the body, the body that he was rightly willing to sacrifice, the dust made from dust, the mere container for his soul, the mere shell made from this earth that now returns to earth. In reward for his sacrifice, for the example he has set for us, for reigniting the fire in the soul of the Flock – the life that was breathed into the body of Brother Honesto by his maker is not here with us today: it is already gone to be in heaven. Brother Honesto has gone to his glory, hallelujah. He has been caught up to be with Jesus – bathem!”
“Bathem!”
“There is something very special happening here today. . . .” The organist had begun playing quietly. The reverend had eased his pace, his volume, his intensity.
“I don’t know what God has in store for his Flock over this next year, but there’s change in the air. Oh yes, there’s change. I can feel it, hallelujah. God is moving here today. Can you feel it? His spirit is moving. Can’t you feel His spirit moving within you? Isn’t He speaking to your heart right now like He’s speaking to mine? I can feel Him all the way down in my bones, all the way to my toes, hallelujah. . . .”
The Flock murmured and prayed, their emotions shifting, rising and falling with the ebb and flow that surged in waves through the mass of gathered bodies and minds. Something momentous was afoot. Something wondrously new and different. The reverend waited, withholding his next words, waiting until they needed and wanted what he was about to give them, needed and wanted it as badly as a thing could be needed and wanted. Then he waited a moment more before hitting them with it –
“And now is the time, brothers and sisters! Now is the time for the bride of Christ to prepare for his coming. Now is the time for us to step up or step away. Now is the time to show the world that our King of Kings means business and that if this nation doesn’t turn from its pride and the worship of the material and of the things of this earth, they will soon suffer eternity in the fires of hell. Now is the time for us to save souls. Now is the time to shake the world. Now is the time to step up to the front line, to move forward as the vanguard of the Lord’s army and take back this great nation, the nation that Satan has been working so hard to destroy.”
He had finished the last sentence in an almost guttural growl. He softened, lightening, to caress again, to draw them back in. Bringing the microphone close, so close that his lips were brushing it, he continued in just above a whisper.
“We must be willing, dear Lambs of God, to take risks or risk losing it all. We must be willing to prove to God that we are ready. The more we give to God, the more we know He can give to us in turn, and we can make great payments indeed, as Brother Honesto has reminded us, as the Prophet has shown us, as Jesus Christ our Lord himself has proven to us. With the gift of Honesto’s life and the example he has made, God is asking us, his entire Flock, each and every one, to set a new example for the world. We must lead the way. We must forego the comfort and safety of what we’ve become accustomed to. We must be willing to sacrifice, to sacrifice everything for God, even our very lives, if God asks it of us. For what are our lives? What are our lives, what are our comforts, what are all the pleasures on earth compared to eternity with Him in glory, bathem.
“All of the pain and the discomfort and the loss of the things of this world – all of this is illusory, Brothers and Sisters.” His glance touched Sophia Hale just long enough that she would know he was thinking of her. “Nothing of any real importance can be lost here on earth. All that is suffered here will be forgotten the moment we pass through the pearly gates, beyond which our loved ones are waiting to be reunited with us. If we truly believe in Christ and are found worthy to be with him in eternity, all that we give to God here will be rewarded and repaid a hundred times over in heaven.” His glance brushed her once more.
“So let us commit today to making this the year of our kneeling, the year of our rising, the year of our full and complete dedication, the year of showing the world what it means to sacrifice ourselves for the sake of God, for the sake of saving souls, for the sake of setting the world afire for Christ. On Friday, we witnessed what one fully dedicated soul can accomplish. Together, as one Flock, with that same dedication, we can conquer the world for Christ. I truly believe that. Don’t you? This year, let us all, each and every one of us, striv
e to be what the Prophet urged us to be, what Jesus urged us to be, to give of ourselves until there is nothing more to give, to be the example before the world so that all may see God’s glory and turn their lives to Christ. Let us offer up to God all of our personal interests, all of our values and cares, let us lay all of our earthly desires and treasures and loves on the altar so that all who see our example will believe in God’s power, so that all, through seeing, and through believing in Jesus Christ, might live.
“If our faith in God is strong, there is no gate in the world strong enough to hold us back. If our faith in God is strong, there is no fence in the world high enough to hold back the march of Christ’s army. Over this next year, let no man stand in our way. Let us follow the example set for us by the young man whose body lies before us today. Let us be willing even to die for Christ, if he asks it of us, so that we might be resurrected with him in glory.”
His hands lifted to heaven as he looked to the cathedral’s doors. From the organ poured an ascension of heavenly chords. The audience stood as the doors opened wide. Seven young girls in white robes and white head coverings came down the aisle, waving palm fronds, one leading, followed by the others in pairs. Behind these seven a younger girl followed, carrying, on a red pillow, a stack of folded gray muslin cloths. Following the girls came the man who had played the Prophet Obadiah in the play and the procession. A spotlight tracked him as he walked down the aisle, looking much refreshed in a clean robe, wearing his crown of thorns lightly. He smiled gratefully – with relief, it seemed to Paige, that his ordeal was over – reaching out to touch the hands extended to him from the congregants along the aisle. Behind him came the cross, carried on the shoulders of six boys, also in white.
At the bottom of the aisle, the girls divided, spread out evenly along the stage’s front, and turned to face the audience. The youngest girl went to each and, taking a cloth from her pillow, draped it over each girl’s offered arm.
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