Michael Malone - Weebly

is in His holy temple. Let all the earth keep silence
before Him.
Sliding away the sheet, Jonathan looked down on
his risen demon. He let his mind haul up the cannon of
its constant war: had his calling been active desire, or
had he, as he had once painfully confessed in an
anonymous church, run to God so that he could not
hear the call of active desire? Was he gay? (He
certainly wasn't happy.) If he could not marry, was it
then better to burn in holy fire?
That anonymous confessor (had he been gay?) had
claimed that Christ, indifferent to the particulars of
whom we love, just commanded us to love. Let us love
one another as ourselves. The hardest part of that,
thought Father Fields, would be to love himself.
Let us humbly confess our sins unto Almighty
God, said the Reverend Mr. Highwick with a broad
smile.
Jonathan clenched his pillow. How could he have
been so ashamed of his mother's shabby dresses, so
ashamed of the sores on her legs, that he had refused to
walk beside her anywhere his friends might see them?