The Black Mass of Brother Springer (10 page)

BOOK: The Black Mass of Brother Springer
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       As I shouted my face got hot and I could feel a river of perspiration flow down my back. I thought of a ruse to get rid of my heavy coat.

       "The devil has climbed upon our backs, and we must fight him off!" With that statement I stripped off my coat and threw it to the floor. I kicked the garment to one side. "We must fight the devil tooth and nail, with every fibre of every God-given muscle and with every strand of our hair! We must fight the devil in the caves of iniquity, in our homes, in our kitchens, on the streets, and on the beaches and on the high seas. We must band together in a mighty army of the Lord! Will you join me in this fight? Will you?"

       "Will you?"

       Again the responses were strong and loud. Now that I was rid of the heavy coat I cooled off somewhat, and I lowered my voice to start all over again.

       "Let me tell you a story, a story that happened only last night, Saturday night, the most devilish night in the week. A young man, now in this temple, and I will not name him, he knows who he is. A young man with money in his pocket last night who now has nothing but sins upon his conscience for his evilness. He dressed in outrageous finery and left his home of honest, God-fearing parents last night and his first stop on the road to Hell was a liquor store. He bought a bottle of gin. He was sober and this evil bothered him not. He next bought a package of cigarettes. But this wasn't all. No, this sinner had other nasty thoughts upon his evil mind. He called upon a young girl, a young, sweet innocent girl of sixteen, and told her they were going to the movies. Did they go to the movies? No, they didn't. They went instead to a forest of piney woods. He tricked this young girl. He gave her a cigarette, and this innocent young girl accepted it. He offered her gin and she drank. They sat in this quiet place and instead of thanking the Lord for the beauty of the night, they smoked cigarettes and drank gin. But that wasn't all. Oh, no, not at all! He put his hands upon the breasts of this young girl, and kissed her full upon her sweet, innocent mouth. But it wasn't a chaste or friendly kiss. Oh, no, not at all! They kissed and they drank gin and they smoked cigarettes, and then they removed all their clothes. Oh yes, they did! But they did not remove their clothes because the night was warm! Oh, no! They removed their clothes because they wanted to sin and love the devil! And they did! He kissed her all over her secret body and she returned his kisses! And again they drank gin and smoked cigarettes and sinned and sinned again and again until the devil had taken full possession of their bodies and their faculties and their hearts! This young man and this young woman are now in this church pretending to love God, but they do not! They have turned their backs on God and have given themselves to the devil!

       "But they can be saved. All of you can be saved if you give yourself to your Lord and Master, Jesus Christ our Saviour who gave His life so that you could be saved! Yes, He gave His own life for you, and you must only give up your love of the devil to repay your Lord. Who will be saved? Who will march down the aisle to truth? Who will give himself to Jesus? Who will worship the Lord and forsake the devil? Who will come forward and take me by the hand and say, "Reverend Springer, I have seen the light, and I want to be saved!' Will you? Will you? Will you?" And I pointed my accusing finger.

       "I will!"

       "Oh, yes!"

       "Let me love the Lord!"

       "Yes, sweet Jesus!"

       "I am a sinner, Reverend!"

       "Let me be saved!"

       "All right," I said, "I will accept your promises in the Lord's name. Form a line down this aisle, and come down and shake my hand. After you shake my hand, continue around in front and up the other aisle and return to your seat. When all have been saved, and you are back in your places, turn and congratulate your neighbor by kissing him or her upon the cheek, and by shaking hands. I do not want any man, woman or child to leave this church without giving himself to our dear, sweet Jesus! If there is one man, woman or child left who has the devil inside him I will drive the devil out before I let that sinner leave the church! Now, come and give yourself to your Lord and Master and Saviour!"

       I held out my arm and shook hands firmly as the parade down the aisle began. There was noise, excitement, shouting, crying, and mumbling and muttering and unintelligible speaking, but not one person in the church failed to shake my hand, including Rosie Durrand with the tears flowing down her cheeks, and the frightened young choir girls. All of this business took some time, but after the group settled down somewhat and had returned to their places, I announced a hymn, and we all sang, I Waited For The Lord, led by Miss Durrand's deep voice in lieu of a soprano, the rest of the congregation chiming in on the chorus. The strong, faithful, musical voices filled the room with song. And it was very beautiful. When the song was over, I gave a final, short prayer.

       "Lead us, O Lord, into the light, and guide us through the week, and help us every day in every way to lead better, cleaner, holier lives. Amen."

       "Amen!"

       Following my final prayer, Dr. Jensen and Jackie Linsey each took an aisle and passed small wicker bread-baskets back and forth along the benches for the offering. When they had completed the canvassing of the standees, Dr. Jensen waved to me from the back door, and I stated: "There will be an evening service tonight at seven-thirty." As I left the pulpit I remembered that I had forgotten to mention the proposed Bible classes, but I was too tired to return for the announcement. I could do that little bit at the evening service...

       As the members left the church I shook hands again, standing on the porch, and accepted compliments right and left.

       "You are a real sin-shouter, Reverend Springer."

       "An inspiring sermon, Reverend."

       "I don't know when I've enjoyed a sermon more."

       "Wonderful. Simply wonderful"

       Everyone had something nice to say, and they were sincere besides. Why not? They felt good, clean, washed in the blood of the lamb. I answered each compliment with the reminder, "I'll see you tonight at the evening service."

       After the last member had departed, Dr. Jensen lingered and congratulated me warmly. "Inspiring, Reverend Springer. Your sermon was a joy to behold and listen to. Would you like to come home to dinner with me?"

       "No thanks," I said. "I'm exhausted, and believe I'll take a little nap. But thank you very much."

       "All right, sir. But there's plenty, in case you change your mind. I'll talk to you tonight."

       I was exhausted. Every muscle in my body ached. As I walked across the lot, my coat over my arm, I staggered slightly with weariness. Ralphine had not put in an appearance at either the house or the church, so I assumed it was her day off. Under a faulty trickly shower I let cold water pour over me for fifteen or twenty minutes, slipped into my shorts, and flopped on the bed. My head missed the pillow; I reached for it, and fell asleep before my hand touched it.

       The sound of feminine voices filtered into my head, and I sat up suddenly, looked at my watch. Five o'clock. I had slept through the entire afternoon, and I could hear women talking, their muffled voices coming through the closed bedroom door. I had a headache from not eating, and my stomach growled. I slipped into my shirt and trousers, and padded barefooted into the study. Mrs. Kern, Miss Rosie Durrand, and a woman I identified as Mrs. Linsey from an introduction that morning, were grouped smilingly around the kitchen table which they had brought out into the study. A clean, white tablecloth, a candlestick and lighted candle, and a small blue bowl of tiny red pintas decorated the table, and by a single place setting there was a foot-high heap of fried chicken, a bowl of potato salad, and a glistening cut-glass cupful of lemon-colored jello.

       "Well, now," I said pleasantly. "What's all this?"

       "We brought you some dinner, Reverend," Mrs. Linsey said, following up her statement with a short happy laugh.

       "That's very nice of you ladies," I said, and I sat down at the table. Miss Durrand pushed the chair under me a little bit closer to the table.

       "Thank you, Miss Durrand," I said, grabbing a chicken thigh and salting it, "I wanted to see and talk to you before the evening service anyway—about the music." I smiled at the other two women.

       "I done wrote out a list and put it on your desk, Reverend," Miss Durrand said.

       "Thank you. Thank you very much."

       "We'd better go on out and let the man eat." Mrs. Kern said sharply. "The coffee's on the stove, Reverend."

       The three women left by the front door and I did as well as I could by the chicken and the potato salad, which was very well indeed, poured a cup of coffee, and smoked a cigarette. It was time to be thinking about the evening sermon. I moved over to the desk with my coffee, opened the Bible to Revelations and began to make notes.

       It hardly seemed possible, but if anything, the evening congregation was larger than the crowd that had attended in the morning. In the face of good Sunday evening television programs such attendance was remarkable. But I was far from being overjoyed. After performance like the one I had given that morning would lay me out for a week. And I didn't intend to go through that experience again, not until next Sunday morning anyway.

       Clyde Caldwell was sitting in the front row with his wife and he looked at me eagerly and expectantly as I entered the pulpit, so I nodded to him and announced: "Brother Caldwell will lead us in an opening prayer."

       Again Caldwell rattled off his staccato repetitious prayer with many "washed in the blood of the lambs" and when he had finished I pointed to Miss Durrand. The girls sang sweetly to her pounding piano, and when they finished two hymns, I began my sermon.

       The Revelation was written by St. John The Divine. If he were alive today he would probably be classified as a schizophrenic, but there is some good writing in that book. The members of my church didn't have such a wonderful life, here on earth, particularly in Jax. They were all hardworking people, sweating for every dime, and they lived in a substandard section of the city. And they believed in the Bible. This belief was important to them, and I thought that if I could tell them about a better life to come, after their death, maybe they would feel a little better about the life they were leading on earth. Why not? St. John's revelations, however, are too ancient for present day use, and I updated them in my sermon.

       "And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.

       "How does that sound? This morning, in all sincerity, many of you in this church came forth willingly and shook my hand, stating that you were saved; that you accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Saviour. You who have been saved are the most fortunate of God's flock, for you shall have everlasting life. Nobody would want life on this globe of terror, pestilence and suffering. Who would want to work at a sawmill or mow lawns or sweep the dirt from the streets forever and forever into eternity?

       "But those who are saved do not really perish. The saved are lifted to Heaven, and God personally wipes the tears away from their eyes. How fortunate you are to have such a kind and benevolent God. If you have sinned, you need but repent, and give yourself to the glory that is God's, and your reward is everlasting life at God's right hand!

       "You will work no more. You will cry no more. Every pleasure shall be yours forever. Your loved ones will be with you, and your enemies will be destroyed. To eat, you only need to open the freezer compartment door, and it will be filled at all times. You will sleep on clouds of downy softness. If you want to, you can sleep for a month; deep, dreamless sleep, and awake refreshed. Should you want the sunlight, it shall be yours. Should you want love, it shall be yours. And there are no time payments. You make your payments on earth, and your rewards shall be given to you in Heaven. Will your name be in the Golden Book? Only you can put it there. But it will be there if you accept God."

       I talked for about an hour, and using my novelist's imagination I put out the good word about the afterlife. The big cars, the free barbecues, the free jukeboxes, the colorful raiment, and so on, and as I got deeper into the sermon my imagination really soared. But I spoke quietly, and didn't try to frighten anyone. All in all, it was a fairly successful extemporaneous sermon.

       Following my sermon, Dr. Jensen and Brother Linsey collected the offering, we sang some group hymns, and I made a brief announcement about a men's Bible class I was starting the following Friday evening, inviting all who were interested to attend.

       If this congregation of mine really believed, they should have all gone home that night with a big spiritual lift. I felt empty, and envied them their blind, unreasoning belief.

       Dr. Jensen accompanied me to my residence and I reheated the coffee, and accepted twenty dollars from him in one-dollar bills. I shoved the money into my pocket, removed my coat, and poured two cups of coffee.

       "There's some cold chicken left, if you want some, Dr. Jensen," I said.

       "No, thanks, Reverend. Actually," he hesitated, "I have a weighty problem on my mind, but it's very difficult to put into words."

       "I am at your service." I didn't intend to make it easy for him. I wanted him to leave. I was emotionally and physically exhausted. This Sunday, with the two long services, had been more work than I had done in a year. I wasn't used to such work, and to tell lies, like I had done, one on top of the other, with a straight face, and a sincere manner, was not the easiest thing in the world to do. Maybe, with patience, I would be able to skim right on along, but this was only my first day, and it had been a terrible day.

BOOK: The Black Mass of Brother Springer
12.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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