Angel of the Apocalypse (2 page)

Another
hand shot up from the congregation.

“
Yes,
Tim. What's your question?” asked the pastor.

Tim
also looked confused. “I don't know how to put this...I thought
the Devil caused all the death and destruction in Revelations. After
the Devil did his thing, God would come down and stop the Devil and
banish him forever. But you're saying that God is going to cause all
of this mayhem? That doesn't sound right.”

“
Those
who believe in God will be brought up to Heaven during the Rapture,
which will happen before the Tribulation. God's children will not
suffer his wrath. It will be the unbelievers that will suffer through
the seven years of Tribulation. Does that answer your question, Tim?”

Tim
nodded his head. “Yes, I think so. But where does the
Antichrist fit into all of this?”

Pastor
Abrams paused for a moment. A painful vision of the Antichrist
flashed before his eyes. The pastor saw an image of himself, with
pale skin and strange looking eyes, preaching to millions of people.
“I...one moment.” He took the bottle of water that was
sitting on the podium and unscrewed it with unsteady hands.

“
Pastor,
are you OK?” asked Tim.

“
Just
fine, Tim.” The pastor took a drink of water and steadied
himself before continuing. “During the Tribulation, the Devil
will possess a man. This man will be known as the Antichrist, and he
will declare himself to be god. During the second half of the
Tribulation, the Antichrist will rule over the world with absolute
authority. He will have the full power of Satan, and will curse and
shout blasphemies against God at every opportunity.”

“
OK,
I think I get it.” replied Tim.

“
Any
other questions? Anybody?”

An
old lady from the middle row raised her hand.

“
Yes,
Ruth. What is your question?” asked the pastor.

Ruth,
and eighty-two year old widower, stood up and asked, “My
husband passed away two weeks ago. How long do I have to wait until I
can have sex again?”

The
pastor looked at her blankly. “That's wildly inappropriate,
Ruth. Let's try to keep this G-rated. Any other questions?”

Nobody
else in the congregation raised their hand. Pastor Abrams closed the
service with a song from the church hymnal. After the song, the
pastor said a brief prayer. As the congregation slowly filed out of
the pews, he added, “Thank you for coming here and sharing in
the glory of our Lord on this beautiful Sunday morning. Please join
me for refreshments in the break room. We have coffee, apple juice,
and I believe Ruth made a couple trays of cookies for us.”

Following
the service, Pastor Abrams met his wife and son in the break room.
Other members of the congregation were slowly filing in and getting
coffee. The pastor's wife was removing the cellophane from one of the
trays of cookies. “Great sermon today, honey,” she said.
“I can't believe Ruth asked that question.”

The
pastor laughed. “Yeah, she's a real firecracker,” he said
as he reached for a cookie. “Good thing she makes such good
cookies, or I'd have to boot her out of church.”

“
I
heard that,” Ruth said, standing directly behind the pastor.

The
pastor smiled, turned around, and gave Ruth a big hug. “What's
with all the questions, Ruth? You're not going to lead the young men
of my congregation into temptation, are you?”

“
Well,
I just might.” Ruth hugged the pastor back. “Why do you
think I baked those cookies, anyway? The way to a man's heart is
through his stomach.”

“
Oh,
Lord. We might need an intervention,” joked the pastor, as he
bit into a chocolate chip cookie. He felt a tug on his shirt.

It
was his seven year old son, Isaac. “Dad! Can I play Xbox with
Jimmy? We'll be real quiet...”

Pastor
Abrams looked at his son. “Sure thing. Just make sure you keep
the volume down.” A section of the basement was converted into
a small rec-room full of board games, puzzles, and books. Most of the
kids played in the rec-room while their parents socialized after
church service. A small TV and an old, first generation Xbox was
stationed in the corner of the rec-room.

Isaac
ran over to his friend Jimmy, and they both made their way down to
the basement. “Sonic!” shouted Isaac.

“
No,
Halo!” argued Jimmy.

The
pastor watched the two kids climb down the stairs. He then turned to
his wife. “Big crowd today. Do we have enough coffee?”

Sarah,
the pastor's wife, was talking to Ruth. She turned around and smiled.
“Sure thing, we've got three coffee makers going full steam.
I'll think we'll be OK.”

“
Good,
good.” The pastor started pouring coffee into Styrofoam cups
and handing them out to people as they walked by.

Fred
walked up to the table and perused the cookies. Pastor Abrams offered
him a coffee. “No thanks, not much of a coffee drinker.”

“
What
are you, a Mormon or something?” joked the pastor. “Hey
Fred, I'm having a little get together at my house next Saturday
night to watch the fights. You're more than welcome to come.”

“
Who's
fighting?” asked Fred.

“
Hopkins
is fighting for the Light-Heavyweight title. Should be pretty good,”
answered the pastor.

“
OK,
count me in,” said Fred.

“
Great.
You remember where I live, right?”

“
Of
course, you live right across the street. Hey, about the sermon this
morning. Do you think we're getting close to the end times?”

The
pastor winced slightly, as he remembered the brief vision of the
Antichrist he received while giving the sermon. Was his mind playing
tricks on him? He had never experienced anything like that before.
“It could happen at any time. Matthew 24:44 states – You
must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not
expect. Likewise, Revelations 3:3 gives similar instruction - thou
shalt not know what hour I will come upon thee.”

“
Yeah,
but...I'm talking about signs that it might happen soon. Like
prophecies and stuff.”

The
pastor nodded. “Sure, the bible is full of prophecies that need
to be fulfilled before the Tribulation. Many of the prophecies are
already fulfilled. The fact that Israel became a country after World
War II is just one fulfillment of the prophecy, as is the Jews
returning to Israel. The founding of the United Nations is thought to
be another fulfillment. Revelations mentions that all people will be
required to wear a device on their right hand or forehead, and that
no one will be able to buy or sell goods, except those who have the
mark of the Beast. Today we have the technology to implant people
with identification chips. Those miniature computer chips could be
implanted into people and have the same function as credit cards. But
I think the greatest sign that the end times are coming is in 2
^nd
Timothy 3:1 - I
n
the last days distressing times will come. For people will be lovers
of themselves, lovers of money, boasters, arrogant, abusive,
disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, slanderers, brutes,
haters of good, treacherous, reckless, swollen with conceit, and
lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, holding to the outward
form of godliness but denying its power.”

“
Whoa,
how do memorize all that stuff?” asked Fred.

“
I've
been memorizing all that stuff since I was twelve years old,”
answered the pastor.

“
Twelve?
Is that when you knew you wanted to be a pastor?” asked Fred.

“
Yep,”
replied the pastor. “I wanted to be a mystical monk like
Grasshopper in that old Kung-Fu show. Anybody who didn't believe in
the word of God would get a flying karate kick to the face!”

“
Ha!
That's great,” said Fred. “God's enforcer. Is that why
you became a preacher?”

“
Well,
something like that. Minus the face-kicking part.”

Fred
smiled. “Pastor Justin D. Abrams, the face-kicking preacher
from Colorado.” They both had a good laugh.

“
Well,
I better mingle some more,” said the pastor. “My flock
needs me.”

About
forty five minutes later, the break room was nearly empty. The pastor
suspected it was because the cookies were all gone. With a sigh, he
began to clear dishes and coffee cups from the table. After a few
minutes, his wife Sarah joined him.

“
Another
successful Sunday,” said Sarah, as she wrapped one arm around
the pastor and gave him a kiss.

The
pastor grabbed his wife's other hand and stepped into a playful
dance. “I should have been a dancer,” he remarked. “Let's
quit this gig and join a Riverdance troupe.” The music played
silently in their minds as they held each other. Life is pretty good,
thought the pastor.

*
* * * * * *

The
following Saturday night, about a half-dozen members from the
congregation arrived at Pastor Abrams' house for the boxing match.
Fred, who studied chemistry at the local community college, brought a
case of his own micro-brew. “I think you're going to like this
batch, Mr. Abrams. I'm working on a new recipe for a honey brown
lager. I'm using a new type of hops,” said Fred, as he handed
the pastor a beer.

The
pastor graciously accepted the bottle. Instead of a bottle cap, the
beer was sealed with an old fashioned bottle-stopper. He unplugged
the stopper and went to throw it away.

“
Whoa,
hold on!” yelled Fred. “Those things cost money. When
you're done, just put the bottles and the stoppers on the table so I
can re-use them. This college student isn't made of money, you know.”

“
Sorry,”
said the pastor, as he placed the stopper on the table. He then took
a swig from his bottle. “Hey, this is pretty good! Maybe your
best batch yet.”

“
Thanks,”
said Fred. “Next year, I'm going to apply to the University of
Colorado in Boulder. I think most of my community college credits
will transfer over. I'm going to major in chemistry. If I graduate, I
hope to get a job at Coors as a Brewmaster.”

“
Just
give Coors a sample of this beer, and they'll hire you one the spot,”
laughed the pastor. “Come on, the fights about to start.”

Fred
and the pastor walked into the living room, were Sarah, Isaac, and
four other members of the congregation were eating chips and watching
TV. “Fred! Glad you could make it,” said Sarah.

“
You
bet,” said Fred. The chairs and couch were occupied, so Fred
sat on the floor Indian-style next to Isaac. “Hey buddy.”

“
Hey
Fred,” said Isaac, playing with a giant Transformers toy.

The
fight started. Twelve rounds for the IBF light-heavyweight title. A
few of the people watching the fight stared at the TV intently, not
saying a word. A few other people talked among themselves, and only
glanced at the TV when the action heated up. Pastor Abrams was among
those who watched the TV intently. He involuntarily clenched his
fists and slightly moved his head from side to side as the fighters
circled each other.

“
Justin
really gets into the fights,” commented Sarah.

“
Uh-huh,”
said the pastor reflexively, as he took another swig of beer.

Shortly
into the fight, a news alert ticker scrolled along the bottom of the
screen. Reports from around the world were coming in. Some kind of
disease was breaking out, causing painful sores and boils on the
skin. The disease was spreading rapidly, and most airports were
already shutting down international flights.

“
Holy
crap,” remarked Fred. “Should we be worried about this?”

Before
anyone could answer, one of the fighters in the ring doubled over in
agony. It was strange, because his reaction was not from a punch.
Before everyone's eyes, the fighter's body started to blister. The
fighter fell to his knees, spit out his mouthpiece, and yelled in
agony.

Everyone
in the room just stopped and stared at the TV screen. It was surreal.

“
Dude,
what's going on?” asked Fred in a slightly hysterical tone.

The
pastor tried to calm everyone down. “I'm sure there's an
explanation for this,” he said. Honestly, he wasn't so sure.
What
could
be the explanation? He had never seen anything like it.