• Religion consists of many characteristics: forgiveness, pride, loyalty, faith, etc. Whether you take communion or participate in confession, you are part of Christ’s league of worshipers. You will always be forgiven for your sins. Everyone will be forgiven for their sins.
    “A fire, you say?” asked a flabbergasted Father Mel.
    “That’s right. They still don’t know the cause yet,” added Father Timothy.
    “Well, our parish is praying for you and the victims,” said Father Mel.
    “I just can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’re accepting me into your church with open arms,” said Father Tim.
    “Oh it’s the least we could do after St. Amy’s burnt down. We don’t want you to stop preaching the Lord’s teachings. I guess this is like we’re helping each other, you can replace me when I’m gone,” said Father Mel.
    Tim noticed the wrinkly face, underweight body, and worn-out walking cane. To Tim, Mel was like that old dieing cat every widow has. It should be put to sleep to be put out of its misery, but the widow needs it for her only company. Mel stays at St. Peter’s because he was the only priest there…until Father Timothy’s church was burnt to the ground and Mel welcomed him into St. Peters.
    It takes a lot to confess to your sins, to reconcile. The church believes if you have it in you to confess what you have done and you are truly sorry, the lord will always forgive you. But it doesn’t work that way with people.
    Reconciliation was Father Tim’s favorite as a priest. It made him feel better about himself when he heard about other people’s problems. People don’t go to confession as much as they used to, thought Father Tim. Sometimes he would be lucky if five people appeared. He just got used to reading the latest James Patterson novel on the other side of the curtain.
    But he heard footsteps approaching. He heard the sounds of the door opening, shutting, and a man sitting down travel through his ears faster than a super model can throw up.
    “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned,” pleaded a loud deep voice.
    Father Tim saw the man’s shadow through the curtain. It looked muscular and, from what he could see, he was bald. But that’s what the curtain is for: to keep from stereotyping or judging the person on what they look like.
    “The Lord forgives all believers. Just tell me what it is,” said Father Tim.
    Tim saw the shadow look down at the ground as he twiddled his thumbs.
    “Well, to make a long story short, I burnt down a church. I have an excuse but I know you won’t accept it,” explained the shadow.
    The word “always” is one of the strongest words, along with “love” and “hate”. After all, “always” means “with no exceptions”. When someone says “always”, do they really mean it? Do they think about the worst-case scenarios? For example, will Christ always forgive you?
    There was a long silence until Father Tim pushed the curtain aside. He searched the other end of the room, but the shadow was gone. He felt as stuck as a penguin trapped in ice. He felt as if he was at war, but not with the shadow, with himself. He just wanted to…his cell phone rang.
    “Yeah, talk to me,” answered Father Tim, still feeling Moody.
    “Hey, it’s me Kaila. Your nephew’s birthday is tomorrow. The party’s at my house. Did you forget?” responded his sister, Kaila.
    “Yep, I did. How old is he going to be?”
    “Eight. Look Tim, I know you’re still stressed from the fire. If you don’t feel like coming, I will understand”
    “How do you know how I feel?” shouted Father Tim
    “I’m your sister, that’s why,” Kaila chuckled.
    Tim thought for a while and laughed.
    “Of course I’ll be there,” replied Tim.
    The next day gave Father Tim a headache bigger than Jay Leno’s chin. Little kids running around screaming, shouting, and screaming some more…not Father Tim’s ideal Saturday. He loved the cake but tried not to pig out and seem like a fool. Tim sat on a sofa and talked to his brother-in-law. It was just what Father Tim wanted: relaxation.
    Then, the munchkins started running laps around the sofa, hands in air, screaming “I’m a monkey!” and it made Father Tim’s feel like a stick of dynamite went off. He bolted up from the sofa and pointed a finger at them and said: “I have a headache! I know it’s your birthday, but settle down!” and sat back down. Some kids were crying and some were pouting.
    “Why are you crying? I should be the one crying. I couldn’t even hear myself think,” explained Tim.
    After hearing this dispute, Kaila rushed over to the children and stooped down so she was at eye level with them.
    “You’re supposed to be good on your special day. Now look Uncle Tim right in the eye and apologize,” demanded Kaila.
    The birthday-boy stared Tim right in the eye and said: “I’m sorry Uncle Tim. Do you forgive me?”
    Timothy stared back into his eyes and gave him a hug.
    “Yes I do,” he whispered.
    The next day at confession was as boring as usual. Well that’s until he heard the footsteps. They were the same footsteps. It was the same loudness, the same intervals of steps, the same everything. The shadow was also the same: bald and muscular. Father Tim thought he would give this sinner a chance even though he thought there’s no excuse for what he did.
    “You have five minutes,” said an angry Father Tim.
    Tim assumed he knew what he meant because he started explaining: “Last month my wife made me go to her church, St. Amy’s, with her because she wanted me to become more ‘spiritual’. When everyone was reciting prayers I didn’t know the words, so I started lip-synching. People started to notice, I got embarrassed, stressed, and when I get stressed, I smoke. So, I went outside for a cigarette and as I walked to my ashtray, I tripped. The cigarette fell out of my hand and hit the building which, because it was entirely made of wood, burst into flames,” explained the shadow.
    His voice was the deepest Father Tim ever heard. It was as deep as a hole from Canada to China. If there was a Mr. America competition and a category was ‘deepness of voice’, he would win by a landslide.
    The room was as still as a clown on a unicycle. Father Tim was soaking in everything he just heard like a sponge.
    “I see how it is. If you won’t forgive me, I know the Lord will,” the shadow said as he left the room.
    Tim waited a moment and followed the shadow in his car. Followed him, stalked him, through the express way, the highway, and the finally to his house. Father Tim Parked on the opposite side of the street and waited for the shadow to go in his house. When he did, Tim opened the glove compartment, pulled out a lighter, and walked to his porch.
    ‘Do onto others as you would want them to do to you’ is what Jesus said. But Timothy thought the shadow only kept his part of the bargain, the first part. Even, better yet, Tim thought of it as the shadow picking his own form of revenge: fight fire with fire.
    Father Tim was about to do something insane when something happened. Something in that young noggin of his turned on. It was like how in the cartoons when the get a ‘bright’ idea and a light bulb appears above their head. This wasn’t a light bulb though, it was…common sense.
    His brain became busy with all sorts of thoughts: Is revenge always the answer? This will only cause more problems. This is against everything I stand for! Revenge is taking over like a monster!
    This gave him a headache that reminded him of the birthday party. Then something hit him like a snowball hitting his face during the first snowfall of winter. Was the incident with his nephew a message from God? Was it God’s way of saying everyone sins and should be forgiven?
    The front door opened. The reminded Father Tim to stop zoning out and that he was, in fact, on the shadow’s front porch. The man that appeared in the doorway looked much like Tim imagined he would: bald and muscular. The only exception was a tattoo of a bull’s eye covering his whole bald head.
    “May I help you?” asked the man, just a bit curious why a priest was on his porch.
    Very discreetly, Father Tim concealed the lighter in the back pocket of his khakis.
    “I’m the priest that was at your confession. I’m the priest that used to lead mass at St. Amy’s. I’m the priest that wouldn’t forgive you. I’m also the priest that still can’t believe it took an eight year old screaming for me to realize you’re forgiven,” explained Tim.
    The man was dumbstruck; he had his mouth gaping open. Father Timothy went to his car and drove away.