We Are All Children Of God

Father Herman always knows how to speak to the depths of your soul. He stands at the podium, unmoving as ever, and speaks with a passion that would make anyone tear up.

He speaks for hours on end. Sometimes he’s still talking when I leave, and he finishes his last sentence when I walk back in the next week.

I always sit in a pew in the very middle, surrounded by the usual praying people. They, too, are unmoving.

Always praying.

Covered by black tarps.

I looked under one once. Nothing special. The usual pillar of flesh growing from the pew seats.

Every day when I leave service, a new pillar grows in the entrance and sees me off. They’re always very polite. They have no names, so I named the one by the door Martha. They always have this faithful twinkle in their eye.

Last week, I went to confession. Father Herman was in position already. He was also at the podium. Father Herman is lots of places in the church.

I confessed to him; the silhouette did not move once.

An arm grew from the walls of the confessional and patted me on the back.

“Do not worry.” Father Herman said, “We are all children of God. The Lord will forgive you, as he has forgiven me.”

“What have you done?” I asked.

“Eaten my fill.” He told me.

Church is the highlight of my week.

But I always remind myself, in Father Herman’s words;

“We are all children of god.

Even this church, is too, a child of god.”