Serpents And Scorpions

Morning Prayers

It was a Sunday. The one day of the week that people like Amy devote to God, Church, Community and of course, family.

The Catholic Church of the Holy Sepulchre in the town of San Teofilo is crowded as usual. So much so that the people fill all of the pews wall to wall and spill outside to the patio, milling about and facing the altar. They can barely hear the sermon of the priest inside. Most of them were fiddling with their phones every few seconds or so. Only the old and the pious really paid attention to the sermon that day. Most of the gathered townfolk didn't really care about the proceedings apart from the celebration of the Holy Eucharist, when the hosts will be dispensed to their eager mouths and their sins are 'magically' washed away. Never mind if Church rules stipulate they should go to confession prior.

For the faithful few like 16-year old Amy, the Word of God is music. Soporific food for the soul. It lulls and relaxes her to a sleepy, trance-like state every time.

Amy languidly gazed up at the glorious painting on the vaulted ceiling. It was a picture of the risen Christ surrounded by winged angels in immaculate white, flowing robes: a mix of adult and juvenile human figures and omnipresent cherubs - infantile heads floating around on winged clouds like balls of cotton. Like Christ, they had halos around their head, only fainter and less ornate than the Messiah's whose one foot lay on top of his stone coffin's lid lying ajar -- the classic representation of the man-god conquering death and rising to claim his destined place in heaven. Amy closes her eyes as a feeling of serenity overcomes her.

It must be the solemn organ music, or the great painting on the ceiling along with the marble statues of saints all around that gave Amy this sense of inner peace. Never mind if the wall-mounted fan to her right smelled of burnt machine oil and whirred its dust-caked blades like a chainsaw. Never mind if the old lady beside her reeked of liniment and tobacco ash. Never mind if somewhere, in some other part of the globe, innocent people are dying over wars, terrorist attacks, other acts of violence, vehicular accidents, disease and natural calamities. This little corner in this crowded church is her own sanctuary of peace and quiet amidst the noise and inanities of daily living. Here, she is protected from all the evils of the earthly plane and free to tune out the distractions of temptation and sin.

Incidentally, the sermon for that day was anything but relaxing. Amy caught a snippet and realized it was not the typical gospel reading. This one was taken from the Book of Revelation,

"....When [the Lamb] opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of those who had been slaughtered for the word of God and for the testimony they had given; they cried out with a loud voice, "Sovereign Lord, holy and true, how long will it be before you judge and avenge our blood on the inhabitants of the earth?"

Suddenly there was a loud bang outside and she felt the earth shook beneath her feet. Dust and small bits of paint and masonry fell from the ceiling. People nervously looked at each other with confused, questioning stares and before they could even react, a second booming explosion, much closer thus time, sent some ducking under the pews and the rest scampering in all directions. A huge chunk of the vaulted ceiling fell into the crowd below with a sickening thud as the nave became illuminated by the sky above.

Amy stood transfixed on her spot, frozen in fear. She looked up at the spot where the risen Christ once was. A bright blue patch of sky now took its place but no one else paid attention. Through the gaping hole, she saw a couple of fighter jets roar past as if chasing something. Distant booming explosions as the ground continued to shake. Inside the church, people were trampling over each other to get out there, and fast. The air was filled with suffocating clouds of pulverized concrete and what seemed like smoke. There were shoes, prayer books, bags, shawls and cellphones scattered across the church floor. Amid the noise and chaos, Amy can make out blood spatters, what seemed like dead or injured people strewn everywhere and a female toddler of about two slumped alone and crying under the marble stoup or holy water dipping bowl carved in the likeness of an angel.