Leo perked up.
“You remember that whole thing from twenty-some-odd years ago?”
“I do, and I’m guessing you have thoughts.”
“I have … one thought.”
“Hit me.”
“I think you just gave evidence that not only God can speak to the soul.”
Lynch opened his mouth to respond, but receded into contemplative silence hoping he could match the good priest thought for thought. After 30 seconds, he took his shot.
“Do you find it interesting that my vocation led me to my beliefs, while your beliefs led to you to your vocation.”
“Vocation?”
He pointed at his collar.
“…you call this a vocation?”
“Okay, poor word choice. Your calling then. Nuns call it a calling, don’t they? I don’t know what priests call it.”
“Relax, Sergeant I’m kidding…”
Leo did a quarter-turn to face his companion.
“…but, as long as you brought it up, it wasn’t my beliefs that made me a priest. It was a series of early life experiences too long and too personal to list.”
“Too personal? Didn’t you just ask me…”
“Yes, I did. I don’t mean they’re too personal to share. I mean they’re too personal to talk about in a way that I can make coherent. But, if you’re interested, I can tell you why I stay; I can tell you what drives me.”
Lynch caught Jimmy’s eye, and flashed him a three-part hand signal: two fingers like a peace sign, then the index finger and thumb spread vertically about an inch apart and lastly, a thumbs-up.
The translation: two shots of the good stuff.
“You bet your ass I’m interested.”
Leo was suddenly twenty-three again, having a cigarette behind the family butcher shop. He saw the old man with the pipe and wondered for the hundredth time what ever happened to the guy.
“Jim…I was in line at the Wawa a couple of weeks ago. The woman in front of me handed the cashier a hundred-dollar bill and said, ‘everyone’s coffee is on me this morning. Then she left. Is that going to make the evening news?
“All anyone has to do is look around, and they’ll see a thousand acts of kindness in a day. People hold open doors. People get things off of shelves for other people. People help people off the ground when they fall. People fix things for other people. People run clothing drives, food drives, clean-outs, walk-a-thons, charity bake sales. It happens every second of every day.
“People get so down on the world. We turn on the TV and get pummeled by bad news. We go to work, and see people get shit on by their bosses for eight hours. It’s disheartening, and it clouds the truth.”
The detective and the priest fired down their shots.
“Whew! The truth, Jim, at least as I see it, is that the bad guys of the world are in a vast minority. It just doesn’t seem like it because they make all the fucking noise.
“Good is anonymous; bad is boastful. Good is fair; bad is ruthless. Good only takes what it needs; bad uses thing up and continues to take. Good has its power in millions of little acts of kindness; bad has its power in a few acts of devastation. Good blossoms from a single point like tree; bad spreads like a virus.
“My point is that the world is a good place. I’m a weirdo for saying it, but it’s true, and God forgive me, but I consider myself in the majority…”
He took another pull. Somehow, the beer at F & J’s never got warm.
“…within the context of the fact that we’re all sinners of course, I consider myself in the majority. I consider you in the majority. I’m not talking about the diocese or the Potterford P.D. here. I’m talking about people, individual people, God’s children. For every diddling priest, there are 1000 Father O’Rourkes. For every Kevin Reilly, there are 1000 Jim Lynches. The organizations need to be taken to task, but it’s still just a few assholes ruining it for the rest of us, and when I say ‘the rest of us,’ I don’t mean priests and cops; I mean humanity. I do not believe you to be corrupt. I hope you don’t believe I’m a diddler.”
“I don’t.”
“Good. People need to be reminded of that. People need to be reminded that they can look in the face of nearly every other person they meet in a day and say ‘I don’t think you’re a jerk.’ And church is, hands down, the best way to do it. You put dozens…hundreds…thousands of like-minded people in one room, and through the sacraments, have them unite under one awesome ideal. That is a church…”
Another pull.
“…and that is why I am a part of it.”
His voice hadn’t gone above conversation volume. His facial expression had been nothing but pleasant.
Both men needed a breather. Leo needed to rest his diaphragm, and Lynch needed to process everything he’d heard since he walked into the bar. He asked Jimmy for the remote and flipped around until he found a Phillies game.
“You like baseball?”
“Sure.”
“Cool. Heads up, Jimmy”
He tossed the remote down the bar. Jimmy nabbed it without looking. Leo spoke.
“So, what else did I miss?”
“I’ve told you all the details I can remember under the circumstances.”
“Thank you for letting me in the room by the way. You didn’t have to do that, and I’m sorry I left.”
“No, I’m sorry. I completely understand. It couldn’t have been easy hearing someone accuse the Catholic Church of belonging to the Devil.”
“Did he quote Revelations, reference the Seventh Day Adventists, or do any comparisons to Druidic rituals?”
“Not that I remember.”
“Then he wasn’t thorough. It’s all been said before. Every religion on the planet has been persecuted as some point, and Catholicism is no different.”
“Yeah, but…”
“Look…Philip doesn’t get it. Neither do you for that matter. If you did, you’d be Catholic. Everybody would.”
“You think so?”
“With all my heart. Believe me. It’s that
