Armageddon's Prisoners 4

Wednesday evening following the fight in the Gathering House, the Servant Committee met for its usual biweekly meeting.  Only four of the Bellevue Gathering’s six Servants Jack, Matt Kesselring, Todd Davis, and Larry McKinnon attended.  Dan Gunther, the Area Servant sat in, an unusual event. Gunther had temporarily removed Isaac Taylor and Arnold Senge from the committee pending instructions from New Jerusalem.  When he announced he would attend the meeting, no one dared object.

The little space at the back of the building, next to the door, functioned as the Gathering House’s library and conference room.  Jack still had trouble breathing through his nose.  He sat sucking stale air through his mouth, hoping he could avoid talking.  His voice had to sound funny.  After a brief prayer, the meeting started with the usual formalities, noting those present, thanking Gunther for filling in, reading and approving the minutes of the previous meeting. 

Jack expected the Committee to immediately take up the matter of the fight on Sunday morning.  Instead, Gunther closed off the line of thought with a preemptive order.

“You need to form a review committee to look into the activity of those two teenagers.  A fistfight between their fathers points to real problems, we need to discipline them before we can deal with the parents.”

He then detailed Matt, Larry and Todd to investigate their conduct, since he didn’t think Jack could act impartially. Jack did not disagree with that assessment.  He thought about bringing up his medical costs but Gunther moved along the agenda before he could speak. 

Travis Wilson had written a note to the Area Servant asking for appointment to the Servant Committee.  Before Gunther could say anything more Larry laughed, a deep booming sound.

“I suppose he told you how much better off the Gathering would be if you put him in charge.”

Gunther, who rarely showed any sign of a sense of humor, smiled for a moment, “He thinks he could do my job better as well.  I take it you don’t want him as a Servant.”

A chorus of agreement swept the room.  Jack nodded in relief, he could not imagine trying to conduct business with Wilson on the committee.  They took up other matters and Jack found himself agreeing to counsel Lewis Johnson for again coming to Gathering without wearing a tie.  The assignment irritated Jack, why couldn’t a man be comfortable at Gathering on a hot morning?  He decided he could truthfully say that some Disciples found the lack of a tie disrespectful, but that he was not one of them.

The meeting turned to shuffling assignments to adjust to the absence of Taylor and Senge.  Until instructions from New Jerusalem settling the matter arrived, they could not serve as Servants.  Gunther noted that they could not expect Jack to do extra work for the few days needed for a response from the religions headquarters. Jack let his mind wander since nothing more required his attention.

He looked over the books lining the walls of the room.  The Foundation had published one or two books and twelve issue of “The Word of God” magazine every year since 1931. Every January New Jerusalem printed a bound volume of the previous year’s magazines.  Every Gathering House’s library contained a copy of all this material.  Curiously, most of the older books sat behind locked doors, only the chairman of the Servant Committee had a key.

Jack noted that he’d never even seen the door unlocked, much less read or even looked at the books in that case.  It suddenly struck him as odd the Disciples took such great pride in all this evidence of Bible research but no one ever studied it. 

“I have one more item,” Gunther announced, pulling a several sheets of paper from his briefcase, “read this letter a week from tomorrow at your weekly administrative Gathering.  I have a copy for each of you.  I’m sure it will create some discussion and questions.  Study it and prepare enforce its terms.”

The meeting wrapped up and Jack headed home, wanting only a drink and a good night’s sleep.  He would read the letter later.

Later that night, unable to sleep, Jack slipped out of bed and down the hall to his office.  A sliver of light showed under the door to JJ’s room.  He paused, thought for a moment, and knocked.  A second later his son opened the door. 

“Can I come in for a minute?”

“Sure.”

Jack looked at an open book on the desk, “Why are you studying?  School hasn’t even started yet.”

JJ explained that with the instructor’s permission he could take calculus at the local community college, adding that it would count as college credit.  At his father’s request, he handed over the text.  Jack looked for a second at indecipherable mathematic symbols.

“Do you understand this stuff?”

“Yes, I do.”

Jack shook his head, not knowing what to say.  His son wasn’t asking permission to do anything, the comment about going to the community college was a simple fact, JJ would go with or without his parent’s consent.  He looked again at the book, he knew the Foundation’s teachings on wasting time on goals in this world.  It just didn’t match up against JJ’s academic ability.  But his training as a Servant overcame reluctance to say what he thought.

“JJ, you know we don’t approve of college or financial pursuits in this world…”

“Dad,” JJ said seriously, “it’s my turn to talk.”

Jack nodded.

“You’re forty-two years old, you’ve been waiting for Paradise for forty-two years.  I’m not going to give up my life for a pipe dream.”

Jack started to say something, but JJ cut him off.

“I know you want to go to Gettysburg, ever since Aunt Shari did that family research.  You’ve never gone because we always had to go the summer Grand Gatherings instead.  Don’t you think you should live before you die?”

The words brought Jack up short.  A few years earlier, Sally cousin, who JJ always called his aunt, had picked up the idea that some ancestor came to America on the Mayflower.  The Word frowned on such research, but Shari’s ego got the better of her.  The Mayflower story did not hold up.  However, a several times removed grandfather had marched into the Union guns under the command of General George Pickett.

The story fascinated Jack. He wanted to visit the battlefield, to try to understand his ancestor.  He could not imagine how the man found the courage to march into battle for such a misbegotten cause. 

He put a hand on his son’s shoulder, “Give me a couple of days to talk to your mother. This will be difficult for me.  They may make me resign as a Servant.”

“That seems stupid, but I won’t say anything.”

Jack said goodnight and walked down the hall to his home office.  He picked up the letter Gunther had delivered and read it.  It contained a strongly worded message to all Disciples, warning them to be aware of attempts by Outsiders to tarnish the Foundation’s image.  It warned that unnamed enemies of The Lord’s Word sought to twist its words to discredit it. 

The letter added specific warnings about use of the Internet, stating Satan wielded it as a tool to deceive The Lord’s Disciples, if possible.  One statement drew Jack’s attention: “We know that we are deep into the time of the end.  Now is the time for all of The Lord’s Disciples to serve Him and His purposes without distraction.  Some critics of the Word of God Foundation, chiefly those that have Forsaken their faith in His Word, claim that the Apostles prophesied the end of the World in 2011.  This is not true.  Admittedly, we speculated that The Lord’s Great Day might occur in that year, but we did not proclaim it as fact.”

Jack turned out his desk lamp but sat in the dark for a long time, pondering that paragraph.  That wasn’t out he remembered it. 

Notes
This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, and events are the product of the author's imagination; any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.  To the best of my knowledge no organization called "The Word of God Foundation" exists.

Comments are invited.  Publication of comments is subject to moderation.  If you wish to comment, but do not want your remarks made public, please include a note to that effect. 

© Jeffrey A. Thomas