him know that she was now attending another church, not because of anything he had done or because of any lack in his sermons but because she had gotten a job as Pastor Wheeler's secretary.
Maybe she should attend services at both churches.
She felt Anna tugging at her sleeve, and she looked down.
'There's a seat, Mommy. See? Next to that fat woman?' 'Shhh,' she admonished her daughter.
There was indeed a section of empty pew near an overweight elderly woman in a loud floral print dress, and Corrie led Anna down the carpeted aisle. She felt very conspicuous as the two of them walked through the center of the church, almost like an intruder, though she knew that the church was open to everyone. She did not know why she hadn't insisted that Rich come with them. If he had time to take Anna out for ice cream later this afternoon, he had time to go to church now. But that was just like him. He didn't stop to think that this was her first day at a new church and that she might like some moral support, a hand to hold as she entered this building filled with strangers.
She knew that, though. She knew what he was like. And, after all these years, she should have known that if she wanted him to do something, she had to come right out and say it. He never figured it out on his own. He never would ..... That was the main problem with their marriage. Miscommunication. A stubborn unwillingness on both their parts to adapt to each other's ways of doing things.
She could have and should have come right out and asked him to go with her and told him why. She could have brought it up yesterday or last night. He would have come. But some vain, quixotic, and hopelessly idealistic part of her had made her hold out, to see if this time he would volunteer on his own. And another part of her had relished the thought of taking him to task for not doing what she wanted him to do, even though she knew ahead of time that he wouldn't do it.
God, why was everything so complicated?
She sat down next to Anna. There was no hymnal in the rack on the back of the pew in front of them, no book at all, only xeroxed sheets of paper stapled together. She glanced at the people sitting about her.
She recognized a few faces, people she'd seen and did not know, but there was not a single friend or acquaintance in the congregation.
Anna tugged at her sleeve again. 'Look at the cross,' she whispered, pointing.
Corrie looked. She'd been in the church every day since being hired, but she'd spent her time in the office and had not really taken the opportunity to examine its interior before. Now her gaze strayed to the huge wooden cross displayed on the wall above the pulpit. Far from being merely an ornamental symbol, a sculptural representation of the Crucifixion, the huge wooden cross looked as though it could be instantly pressed into service.
It was nearly twice the size of a man and, though resting on the floor, reached almost to the ceiling. She shivered.
There was something about the cross that didn't seem right, something in the proportion of its sections or the luster of its wood that made her uncomfortable.
She turned her attention away from the cross, to the stained glass windows, finding solace in the familiar normalcy of their colored designs.
'Mommy,' Anna whispered, 'I think it's starring.'
'Yes,' Corrie said.
The congregation grew hushed, murmurs fading into whispers, then trailing off into silence as Pastor Wheeler entered through the vestibule. Corrie was unfamiliar with the specific rituals of this denomination, but she'd been to enough Sunday services in enough churches that she knew what to do and when to do it. She and Anna stood with everyone else for the invocation, bowed their heads to pray, stood politely when it was time to sing.,- :
Then Wheeler began his sermon
He stood at the pulpit, Bible in hand, and scanned the faces of his congregation. His eyes passed over Corrie, and he smiled at her. There were a few muffled coughs, the rustling sound of people shifting in their seats.
'I have seen Jesus Christ,' he said, and his voice was low and filled with both awe and pride. 'He has spoken to me.'
Pastor Wheeler paused for a moment to let the import of his words sink in and then began recounting the text of his conversations with Christ.
He told of his dream and of the meeting in the church.
Corrie watched the preacher as he spoke, and she was afraid. She wanted to leave, wanted to rim, but was too scared to do so. There was no doubt in her mind that Wheeler had seen Jesus--the proof was in his face, in his voice, in the aura of rapture which now enveloped him-but the news did not fill her with joy the way it should have. As she looked between the heads of the people, over the backs of the pews, at the preacher's eyes, she was filled with fear and a deep, intense feeling of dread.
What was wrong with her? She had always considered herself a good person and a moderately good Christian. As a child, she had accepted Jesus into her life and had done her best since then to obey His teachings. Her feelings for Christ had always been uniformly positive and unambiguous.
So why was she afraid?
'He has a plan,' the preacher continued. He was smiling now, getting into his rhythm. Jesus has a plan. He is going to establish the Kingdom of Heaven on earth, and He has chosen our humble town and our humble church as the seed from which this greatness will grow. We have been selected to be the first citizens of the Kingdom of God, and, as foretold by the prophets.' Jesus will bring light and right to this troubled chaotic world and the fallen will be fodder for the cannons of Christ...'
Corrie felt Anna grab her hand and squeeze. 'Mommy, I'm scared.' '
Corrie was scared too, but she gave her daughter a reassuring smile.
'There's nothing to be afraid of,' she whispered.
'I want to go home.' :: 'Shhh.' She put an arm around Anna's shoulder and again focused her attention on the pastor. Around her, she could hear the crying and whining of other frightened children, the reassuring whispers of their parents. The fear in the church was almost palpable, though she was not quite sure why the pastor's words should produce such a response.
The sermon continued, a hypnotic intermingling of the pastor's conversations with Jesus, prophecy from the Bible, and personal interpretation of both. Wheeler described in detail his plans for the Church of the Living Christ, and he urged everyone to assist in raising funds and volunteering time to help complete this project, this project that would forever change the course of human destiny.
Wheeler was a stirring speaker. She had to admit that. The fear in the air shifted, changed, metamorphosed into anticipation and excitement as he spoke. Like the other people surrounding her, the men now chanting 'Praise God!' the women now yelling 'Hallelujah!' Corrie found herself caught up in the emotion of the moment, moved and inspired, despite her fear, by the power of the pastor's words.
Only... Only in the back of her mind, she wondered why Pastor Wheeler needed to resort to mundane pleas for money and volunteer workers if Jesus had really asked him to build this church. Did Jesus, who could cure the sick and resurrect the dead, really have to rely on simplistic evangelical techniques to ensure that His will be done?
The Pastor Clan Wheeler's gaze again fell upon her and Corrie shivered, feeling guilty for even considering such blasphemy. Who was she to question the ways of the Al mighty?
She spent the rest of the sermon concentrating on the back of the pew in front of her, trying not to listen to the preacher's words.
After the service, she and Anna walked quickly out to the car. Anna, usually animated and excessively talkative following the forced silence of church, was quiet and subdued and the two of them walked without speaking. The other members of the congregation were quiet, too, and she heard very little conversation from the other families heading out to their vehicles.
Corrie strode toward the Nissan. She was walking normally holding Anna's hand, a bland, placid expression on her face, but she felt anything but normal inside. She was frightened, deeply and truly frightened, and she felt like a character in a movie she'd once seen who'd known that the end of the world was imminent but had not been able to share the information with any of the blithely happy people around her.
Only why should the Secbnd Coming make her feel this way?
The Second Coming.
She wanted to share this burden with Rich, to tell him what was happening, and have him reassure her that
