Standing His Ground

The pastor sat in an overstuffed chair pretending to read a magazine while his wife pretended to dust the wooden tables in their living room. A picture of Christ on the cross was on the wall with the words of the Bible verse John 3:16 underneath it: "For God so loves the world he gave his only begotten son, so that whoever believeth in him shall not perish, but have eternal life." There was a red sofa with two brightly patterned, overstuffed chairs filling up the vacant spaces on the gold carpet, blatant invitations to enjoy the hospitality of the house. Other comfortable chairs furthered the invitation, but the goodwill towards all of God's creatures was missing today.
The pastor was not a man of robust proportions. Bob was demure, wearing a turtleneck sweater over a slight physique. He had a burn scar on his ear where his brother had accidentally hit him with a roman candle on the Fourth of July a long time ago. The little fireball got lodged in his ear. Bob clawed at it desperately, but he couldn't get it out. Bob had only feint hearing in that ear afterwards. They cut as much of the scar tissue away from his ear as they could, but the accident ruined the symmetry of Bob's face. It took a little psychic adjusting after someone first met the Reverend not to squirm when they talked to him. One ear stuck out more than the other, and it was covered in scar tissue, but it was easy to like the pastor because he was kind and solicitous in his manner. It seemed like Bob's damaged ear brought more good will to Bob from his congregation at church. A person just had to talk loudly into Bob's good ear to converse with him.
Bob's wife was an attractive woman, firm in her convictions. She had blond hair and blue eyes, and she still had the body of a young woman. Her name was Mary, and she emanated wholesomeness and concern for their flock. The congregation anticipated a couple of nice children gracing their church as the couple settled into the daily routine. She and her husband formed a spiritually gratifying presence for their congregation.
On this day the pastor's wife kept her back turned towards her husband like she was unaware of his existence. Her form and her movements communicated quiet, female rage, a totally new aspect of their relationship. They had not spoken to each other all day. Anyone who viewed the scene would immediately know that something very powerful had come between them. She finally turned and frowned at the still young man because he had put on his jacket.
"Where are you going?" she asked impatiently.
"Ann, I am going to do what I have been taught to do. I am going to teach sinners about the love of God," Reverend Bob answered.
Ann's mouth dropped open, and she stared at her husband in disbelief.
"Are you kidding me? After what you did?" Ann asked incredulously.
"The Lord works in mysterious ways, Ann," Reverend Bob stated.
"What works in mysterious ways is your mind. Do you think anyone in this town will tolerate you? You can never preach again. I am so ashamed of you. You got caught with another man, and you refused to bow your head. God is watching this. You will go to hell," Ann shouted in a rare departure from a usually calm and silent demeanor.
"I might be a sinner, but I will go and do the Lord's work, Ann. We are all born in Sin, and God will forgive anything if you pray and ask for God's forgiveness. I will communicate the love of God to the people who need it most," Bob shouted back.
"Nothing gets through to you. God does not forgive sins like yours, Bob! I can see what will happen, and I want to stop it. We will be in so much shame. If you don't repudiate what you've done now you will be persecuted. You will be treated like a low person, because that is the way they will see you. They will get mad if you even look them in the face. Our children, if we have them, will be picked on by teachers and beaten up by playground bullies. If we have a daughter young hoodlums will look at her as easy prey. They will share your shame. It's not just your life you're ruining here. You're ruining my life and the lives of your future children. Bob, go down on your knees right now, not just to the Lord but to the people who know you. You must abase yourself, and maybe people will see fit to look at you as repentant. Your kids won't get beaten up. Your daughter will be safe. Maybe you are prepared to accept the repercussions that will affect you, but what about us?" Ann bawled.
"Ann, I have to do this. I will protect you with all I have in me, or, if you want to you can get a divorce. I will still protect you," Bob said quietly.
"Bob, getting a divorce would only increase their desire to hurt us. It's almost as bad as being a homosexual," Ann stated.
"Ann, I have to do this. There are more people like me than you think, and every one of them live in dread of the possibility that they might be found out some day. Someone has to speak up," Bob stated.
Bob glanced at the newspaper resting on a stand next to his chair. Dec. 24th, 1954 was the date on it. Someone had written the word "homo" on the paper in red magic marker.
...... ...... .......

The Reverend trudged down the street carrying his Bible under his arm. The streets were silent because supper had been served in the homes and the people were relaxing after a hearty meal. Soon they would go to bed. If one of them had seen Reverend Bob with a Bible under his arm they might have made a comment and shook their head about it, but they would not have done anything. They loved their neighbors in moderation. A few of the houses had red Christmas lights out, creating a feeling of comfort. This was the night when everyone loved The Lord.
The Reverend entered the Wayward Sons' bar carrying his Bible. He expected to cause an immediate sensation, but only a couple of the bar's customers noticed him. The bar's cute waitress, wearing a Santa's Elf outfit stared at Bob in amazement. The rest of the customers were cheering on an Indian wrestling contest, with each faction clamoring in support of their boy. One of the guys who noticed Bob went from table to table pointing out the preacher. Attention shifted away from the Indian wrestling to Bob. The reverend sat down at a small table. The men in the bar slowly turned, one by one towards the pastor, each focusing their gaze on this amazing sight. A deadly silence descended on the cavernous room.
Bob stood up, holding his Bible in his hands.
"Hear me, fellow Christians. I have come to preach about Our Father's love. I know I am a sinner, just like the rest of you. We all fall short of God's perfection because we live in an imperfect world," Reverend Bob bellowed.
The young preacher's words had a strange effect on the bar. Half the customers broke out laughing, and the other half looked at Bob like they wanted to kill him. One of the guys Indian wrestling turned and looked at Pastor Bob. His opponent immediately forced his hand to the table, where it laid like a dead fish. HIs opponent turned to see what caused this sudden shift in the atmosphere of the bar.
"You're Goddamn right you are a sinner, and none of us are as bad as you. Why don't you go home?" Joe Riker shouted.
"My brothers in the lord. Do not turn away from God's love, because God loves us all," Reverend Bob shouted.
"We don't want your kind of love, faggot. Go home!" Craig Gratlin shouted.
A guy sitting at the bar laughed hard. Raymond Harvey walked up to the bar and ordered a pitcher of beer. Then he walked up to Bob and dumped the beverage on his head. Loud yells of support came from the rowdy men.
"My friends, you cannot shut out The Lord. He will find a way into your heart," Bob shouted pathetically. Beer spewed from his lips.
"Leave this place, Bob. Leave the town of Okwinah. We don't want you here," Mitchell Brank told the former pastor.
"My brothers in Christ, I will still pray for your souls," Bob said quietly.
"Go! Now!" a huge man bellowed.
Bob walked out of the bar. The chilly air blew on his beer soaked jacket and head, bleeding his body of heat as he trudged down the street. He held his bible hard under his arm and jammed his other hand into his pocket. Bob started to think that the world was not susceptible to reason. What had happened in the Wayward Sons' bar was madness, but that did not matter because the whole world was mad. Bob was going to fight against this insanity. He had to defeat it. Then Bob heard the sound of a car approaching behind him. He turned and saw a police cruiser approaching.
"Get in my car, now," officer Crintly told Bob.
Bob walked around the front of the cruiser and got in.
"Bob, have you lost your mind, going into the Wayward Sons' bar carrying that kind of dirt on you? You're lucky they did not kill you," the policeman said as Bob sat down in the front seat of the automobile.
"If God had wanted me to die God would have let me die in there. God must want me to do some kind of work, right here in this town," Bob said.
"That is a great big no go, Bob. Mayor Binter has scraped together some money to pay for you to stay in a hotel. Why I don't know," officer Crintly told Bob.
"Good old Binter. I know why he wants to give me this money," Bob mumbled.
"Whatever. He is the man who signs my paycheck, so I do what he says. We are going to get you out of here tonight. I will take you in my cruiser to The Haven Hotel on the edge of town. You will be in room 22. We will bring you your stuff in the next few days. Stay inside. You know how some people are about guys like you," officer Crintly said.
"Yes, I've seen that firsthand. I will make it my life's work to redeem such slovenly Christians," Bob responded.
"Will you stop that! You nearly got killed because of that kind of talk. The police can't protect you if you keep doing that," officer Crintly said in a raised voice.
"The Lord works in mysterious ways. The ancient Christians of Rome got fed to the lions. Since they did that I can put up with a little pain of my own. Christ died on the cross, you know. He said 'Pick up your burden and walk'. That is what I will do. I will pick up my burden and walk in the name of the Lord," Bob responded.
Officer Crintly picked up his radio receiver.
"I have a man here who needs a mental health evaluation," he said into the device.
"We have a bed waiting for him by orders of the Mayor of Spratly. We are already on it," the nurse responded.
Officer Crintly hung his receiver back onto his radio.
"There! I've done my best for you. They will take you in The State Mental Hospital," the policeman stated.

............ ...............

A doctor sat in his office with a plastic binder with several forms on it resting on the desk before him. Bob sat across from the doctor's desk.
"I hear you have been causing trouble, Bob. I never would have expected that from you," Dr. Wilson said.
"I cannot keep silent when it comes to the will of My Lord," Bob responded.
"Right, Bob. Do you think God is talking to you?" the doctor asked.
"God speaks to us all in the Holy Scriptures. God wants us all to preach love for one another, even my kind of love," Bob said.
The doctor wrote the words "delusional and maladjusted" on the form in front of him.
"Bob, that is not what it says in the Old Testament. In the Old Testament it says homosexuality is an abomination. You have to understand how some people would take exception to your version of love," Dr. Wilson said.
"The Old Testament was written for a primitive people who had to work hard just to survive. They were too busy protecting their flocks and fighting Philistines to engage in abstract theology," Bob answered.
"Bob, most people will not tolerate your sexual orientation. I will do my best to see that you get treated fairly, but I am limited in what I can do. A lot of people were alarmed that you would go to the Wayward Sons' bar and try to preach there. That was exactly the wrong thing to do. If those guys see you walking around they are likely to hurt you," Doctor Wilson told Bob.
"The ancient Christians of Rome were fed to the lions. I am ready to accept anything that comes my way because I preach about the Lord," Bob answered.
"Bob, I am going to put you on medication. I can see that it is necessary," the doctor told Bob.
An aid accompanied the pastor to the ward. An older woman sat at the nurses' station, a rigid sergeant accustomed to having people do what she said.
"He needs to shower," the Nurse Wregaly said.
She handed the aid an orange jump suit with a folded towel and a bottle of liquid soap resting on it.
"After the shower take him to be deloused," she said.
When Bob came out of the shower carrying a wet, folded towel the aid said, "Come on, Bob. We've got to get the vermin out of your hair."
As they left the front desk Nurse Wregaly said, "You'd think he would have better sense than to go to a bar like the Wayward Sons after what he did. He shouldn't have gone there for any reason, but going there after what he did is insane. I hope we can protect him in here."
The next day Bob sat in the day room with the other mental patients.
"I hope we don't have to listen to this perverted pastor. If he starts to speak up somebody needs to clean his clock. My God, how did they let men like that get near their children?" Jeffry Vowels complained."
"We can't touch him in here, but if anyone sees him on the street they need to take him out," Johnathen Beebe said.
"Listen, guys," Roger Gretz said. "You are fixing to get the whole ward locked down. You still want to be able to go to the snack bar and play spades in the lobby, don't you? We won't be able to if you keep talking this way. We will be stuck in our rooms. "
"Thank you, brother. The Lord is smiling on you," Bob said.
"Watch yourself, faggot," Jeffry said.
"You watch yourself, Jeffry! You're going to get our privileges taken away," Roger reacted.
That night Bob stood in the dayroom in front of the Christmas Tree, gazing rapturously at the angel on top. When Jeffry saw him he stopped and stared at him incredulously. Then he exploded.
"That Goddamn faggot is defiling our Lord! I swear to God! Somebody needs to bash his skull in. He is evil!" Jeffry shouted.
He advanced menacingly towards Bob, but Roger stopped him.
"Jeffry! You are fixing to get yourself strapped to a bed. You can't make threats like that in here. This is Christmas, for Christ's sake," Roger yelled.
Two security guards entered the lobby. They calmly approached Jeffry.
"Son, the nurse said you are threatening this man," the larger security guard said.
"Why are you protecting him? Are you like him?" Jeffry fumed.
"No. That is not my preference, but I don't want to see him get beat up on Christmas. Come on, Jeffry. This is supposed to be a day of peace," the security guard explained.
"There can be no peace as long as there are people like that," Jeffry answered, pointing at Bob with fire in his eyes.
Nurse Wregaly entered the day room.
"What is going on here?" she asked.
"Nothing much. We just had a little argument. We aren't really mad or anything," Jeffry said.
"You look mad to me. ... This is about Bob, isn't it? I want you to stay away from Bob. If I see you bothering him you will get strapped down. Word has come from the top that no one is supposed to touch him. If you do bother him in any way at all you will lose your privileges. I mean what I say. These are my instructions. They come straight from the top," Nurse Wregaly lectured.
"Damn! Does this mean we have to let this little fairy preach to us?" Jeffery asked.
"No, you can always leave," Nurse Wregaly responded.
"I don't want to leave. These med's make the cold bite harder," Jeffery said.
"You have no choice," Nurse Wregaly stated.
"I hate this place. You are abusing our rights," Jeffery shouted.
"Shut up, Jeffery," the nurse snarled.
............. ............. ..............

Former pastor Bob settled into the casual regard people who are marking time have for each other. No one noticed Bob reading his Bible in his cubicle, and he did not try to preach to anyone. He was not having massive heart trouble, cancer, or anything like that, but "Haldol", the medication they put him on, made him so lethargic he might as well have been on ether, only it made Bob feel worse than ether ever could. Rightly or wrongly, Bob was going to ditch the Haldol as soon as possible. He couldn't take it. The criteria for a mental health commitment was "if the person was a danger to himself or others" or if the person was so incompetent that they could not function in society. Bob knew he could not refrain from preaching when he was off Haldol. He just needed to be careful about who he preached to. The first thing he did was dump his medications in the trash when he got to the room at The Haven Hotel in Spratly. Bob stayed unobtrusive for a month. Then he decided he had to preach God's word to the people who needed it the most. That was what God wanted.

Two psychiatrists discussed Bob's case.
"He seems to be operating on the assumption that he is not a threat to the public decency," Dr. Hankel said.
"Most of the people who come in here refuse to believe they have an illness that affects their brain," Dr. Grant said.
"Come on, doctor. You're not trying to tell me that homosexuality is okay. Every one of those people who come in here is quite sick," Dr. Hankel stated.
"Yes, but so are the heterosexuals," Dr. Grant said.
"You can't tell me these people have any place in normal society. They're freaks, and what's worse is that they want to make us all freaks. We can't tolerate these people in our everyday life, and certainly not in the pulpits of our churches," Dr. Hankel said.
"Doctor, have you ever heard of a man named Alan Turing?" Dr. Grant asked.
"No, but I can tell you're going to tell me about him," Dr. Hankel answered.
"He was an Englishman who was also the brilliant genius who broke the Nazi "enigma codes" in World War II, shortening the war by years and saving millions of lives. He built some kind of machine with all these dials hooked up to electric currents that could check an unimaginable number of letter sequences that made up the extremely complex German enigma codes. There were a thousand trillion possibilities for each message in the encrypted message the Germans sent out. There is no telling how long it would have taken the English to break the German codes if they didn't have Alan Turing working with them. When the war was over they thanked him by "treating" him for his homosexuality. They forced him to take very harsh drugs that were supposed to "cure" him. He finally couldn't take it anymore, and last June he committed suicide. Breaking the Nazi enigma codes was not his only achievement. He made amazing discoveries in the field of computer science. He designed the first true computer that ran on software. This man contributed so much to the betterment of the human race, and we thanked him by driving him to the point of suicide. There is no telling what contributions the homosexuals have made to society, because we forced them to live in hiding for so long. Bob told me all this, and I checked it out. It's true. Don't you see how Bob would decide that there was no way homosexuals would ever be accepted unless they got out and fought for it? Don't you see how he would decide to fight back with the only weapons he has - his courage and his intellect. We don't know how many of the great geniuses of history were homosexuals, because they were afraid to speak out. So Bob spoke out, and it cost him his sanity and his life." Dr. Grant said as he held his tobacco pouch with one hand, stuck the pipe into the pouch with his other hand, and shoveled tobacco into its bowl.

When Bob got to the Haven Hotel he stayed in for a while, like he was supposed to. He did not want to cause trouble, but he had his needs. How could people pass so much judgement on something they knew so little about? Bob believed that if homosexuals were given the chance they could make the world a much better place. People had no idea how much human progress was made possible by homosexuals. Why couldn't people leave homos alone? Bob took to wandering the streets at night. People seemed to have forgotten him, so he felt safe doing this. What could go wrong?
One night as Bob was wandering he saw the form of a young man a couple of blocks away. It was no more distinct than a shadow, but Bob hurried to catch up with the young man who was so persuasive in his invitation. The young man was the embodiment of everything Bob ever wanted. Bob started to follow this young man's footsteps every night. Bob would leave his room and walk about a block, and there that image would be, waiting illusively. Why couldn't he catch up with phantom? What was he doing that was so wrong? This phantom would turn into a back alley, and he would exit the far end of the alley as Bob entered the near end. He spent more and more time wandering the dark streets. All the children had grown up and moved away from this neighborhood, leaving an eerie feeling behind them. Dark trees loomed over the streets. He would travel the different bi-ways, always feeling like he was on the verge of catching up with the young man. The houses sat beside the road, mute witnesses to the psychodrama being played before them. There were no children here to get in the way. People went to bed early in this place.
One day there was a knock on the door of Bob's hotel room. Bob reluctantly approached the portal. When he opened the door Deacon John James stood before him.
"Bob, I had to look hard to find you. The people who knew where you were would not talk to me, but the deacons of our church have decided that since you did so much for our church we should help you in your hour of need. So we contacted a church in California that needs an assistant pastor. The people there are not as bigoted as they are here, and they will welcome you into their fold," John began.
"I don't know ... " Bob ventured.
"Bob, I am offering you salvation! You can finally get out of the mess you are in. Don't pass this up. It might be your last chance. Bob, can't you see what is going to happen to you if you keep doing what you're doing?" John implored.
"Like I might get fed to lions?" Bob asked.
"Bob, no one who knows anything wants to see you get torn apart, literally or figuratively. What you are doing is madness," John said.
"John, don't think I am ungrateful, but look at it from my point of view. These people have taken everything I value from my life, so that all I have left is a small amount of integrity. They have expelled me from my church and forced me to take medications that were inappropriate for me. I cannot accept it. I cannot accept that I am considered not fit to show my face on Main Street. I am going to stand my ground, right here in the town of Okwinah," Bob stated.
"Bob, you won't survive. They will tear you to pieces," John pleaded.
"Christians don't make a difference by surviving, John. Christians have been burnt at the stake. They have been fed to the lions. Jesus said to pick up your burden and walk. I am going to carry my burden, John. If they want to kill a man of God, let them. In time they will find it in their hearts to regret what they did," Bob fumed.
"Bob, this is madness. It's like you're standing on the railroad tracks in front of a train, daring it to hit you. They are right. You are crazy. We need to find a home for you so you will be safe," John reacted.
"There is no home where I am safe. Maybe my body will be safe there, but what about my soul," Bob asked.
"Bob, I think you really believe what you are saying. You need medication to get this madness out of your mind. I can take you to the mental hospital right now. You have an open invitation there. Don't do this, Bob. You won't live," John pleaded.
"Christians don't make a difference by living," Bob stated.
"Bob, I have to change your mind. No one wants to see a preacher beaten to death in our streets. You have to compromise just a little," John said.
"It might seem like a little to you, but to me it is a lot," Bob answered.
"Bob, I see that you are beyond reason. Some of us said this would happen. I am going to give you a list of people you can call and ask for help. Don't lose it," John said as he reluctantly turned to walk out the door.
"Thanks for your concern," Bob responded.
John waved his hand abruptly and walked out the door.
There was a bar few people knew about called "The Blue Room", though most people who knew about the place called it "The Black and Blue Room". Bob walked down the street on a surprisingly warm night on his way to that God forsaken place. He would stand his ground there.