The House of War: Book One Of : THE OMEGA CRUSADE (4 page)

The attacks were not limited to the clergy. Christian families could not escape the reach of the state. Home schooling was branded as subversive and outlawed as seditious. Parents were forced to send their children to schools whose curriculum not only preached that Christianity was a hateful creed but also encouraged and facilitated the exploration of their sexuality beginning at twelve years of age. Christian doctors who refused the United Nations mandate to add birth control and abortion counseling to their family practices were being fined, having their licenses revoked, and even imprisoned in a growing number of instances. Nurses who refused to assist with the procedures were summarily fired from their jobs. Christian hospitals which would not comply with the UN’s Global Healthcare policies were forced to close, their assets were seized and their protesting workers hauled off to jail.

“Blessed are thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus…”

Monsignor Francis Green knew about that only too well. He was arrested in San Francisco for delivering a sermon without a permit outside the state’s new fetal stem cell research facility. Ordinarily, preaching without a permit in the state of California would have incurred a fine and no more than a night’s stay in central lock-up, but; the prosecutor, wishing to make an example of the priest, charged him with violating the state’s hate speech laws. Equating abortion with murder, the state argued, ‘was misogynistic and slanderous of women who chose to exercise their right to have an abortion.’ The judge agreed and sentenced him to a year and a half.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen…”

Portions of Christian doctrine were regularly labeled as hate speech in cities everywhere and the hate speech laws were becoming ever more vigorous, targeting anyone, laity or clergy, who promulgated traditionalist’s views on family, sexuality and personhood. If the High Court ruled against them in the coming spring, some of the more draconian, anti-Christian legislation would become the law of the land. It is this threat that brought Monsignor Green and two hundred fifty thousand other Christians to the nation’s capital.

“Hail Mary, full of grace…”

The door to the penitent’s side of the confessional opens and a figure slips in, drops to the kneeler and makes the sign of the cross.

“The Lord is with thee…”

“Bless me father, for I have sinned,” says the male voice behind the lattice screen. “Since my last confession three weeks ago, I accuse myself of lying. For this and all other sins, I am heartily sorry; humbly ask pardon of God and penance and absolution of you, Father.”

“Blessed are thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus…”

Lying, the priest reflects, is the easiest of sins to succumb to. And why not? The culture at large considered it basically harmless and often necessary. There was even a popular reality television show, ‘The Art of Lying,’ which celebrated the sin. It rewarded its contestants for the ingenuity and sincerity of the lies they used to win everything from lovers to concessions from companies. It is little wonder that it is so frequently heard in the confessional. Many spent their whole lives lying, to others and even lying to themselves, without giving it any more thought than they gave to breathing. It is a rare soul, the priest knows, which remembers that it was a lie, a plain and a simple lie, that wrought the whole wicked and woeful world of man into being.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen…”

Monsignor Green speaks softly through the latticed partition between the booths. “And why have you committed this grievous sin?”

“I lied to help overthrow the government, Father.”

“Hail Mary…”

Monsignor Green has heard many excuses for lying in his thirty-three years as a priest but this one struck him mute for a moment. Is the confessor serious? Is this a joke, he wonders? There certainly is a lot of anger in the crowds that came to protest the growing secularization of the government. Yes, the government needs challenging, correcting and changing. But overthrowing? Could there be Christians out there plotting treason?

He prays not.

“Full of grace…”

The priest feels confidant identifying the voice of the penitent as belonging to a young, Alabama man he met soon after arriving in DC a week ago. The accent is certainly spot-on. The Alabaman is one of the many volunteers
taking turns providing coffee, meals and blankets to the masses gathered to pray at the nation’s monuments. Anthony is the young man’s name. Yes, thinks the priest, that is it; Anthony Romero. Monsignor Green talked with the darkhaired young man and a handful of others just the other day. The group of them had taken turns introducing themselves to each other. At his turn, Anthony explained that he worked at the Pentagon. This elicited much interest from everyone at the table. He went on to say that he worked specifically in the cyber-warfare department, fending off hostile computer viruses while simultaneously creating programs with which to infiltrate enemy computer systems.

“It’s all very technical and very important work,” Romero explained. “Our country, like our Church, is constantly under attack.”

“The Lord is with thee…”

The priest was impressed with such earnestness in one so young. It is why he is now doubly disappointed to learn that so seemingly pious and patriotic a young man could involve himself in a plot to overthrow the government.

“Why, my son?” The Monsignor asks. “Lying is a sin against God; treason is a crime against Caesar. Surely you know that it is a precept of our Holy Faith that ‘there is no power but from God, and those who are in power, are ordained by God.’ Why would you put both your immortal soul and your mortal life in jeopardy?”

“Blessed are thou among women…”

“Does not our Holy Faith also instruct us that we should obey God and not man?”

“And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus…”

“Only when obeying man would put us at odds with God,” the priest answers. “Surely, you know that?”

“Our way of life is under attack, Father,” the young Alabaman whispers fiercely. “Our Church is being driven underground. These politicians are never going to be satisfied with just a wall between church and state. They don’t want to separate the two. They’re fixing to entomb the church. That’s what they really want. They want to bury us, Father. I am a part of the government that’s driving our Holy Church underground. If I do nothing about it, I will be aiding and abetting in the persecution of my fellow Christians. Would that not put me at odds with God?”

Monsignor Green sympathizes with the penitent’s concern. It is precisely that fear which brought the thousands of Christians to Washington. It is why
he left his parish in California to relieve other priests who also traveled from all over the country for the very same reason. They are all concerned. The policies of the new government have put the whole nation at odds with God.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen…”

The problem is greater than the ceaseless whining of thin-skinned atheists offended by words etched in granite and in marble hundreds of years ago by better men than themselves. The problem is that progressives, in power now for over a decade, have grown ever more emboldened and their ambitions are best served through a secular state. A godless, religion-free state is, in fact, their ultimate aim. To secure it, the progressives need to do more than merely erase certain words from stone; they need to banish them from public discourse altogether. The proposed new law would go a long way to doing just that, silencing their opposition. The law, many fear, will effectively criminalize Christianity.

There is much at stake, yes; but treason? No. It is unacceptable to Monsignor Green.

“Hail Mary, full of grace…”

“Our hope lives in prayer,” The Monsignor admonishes. “We should rely on prayer, son. It is our shield and our best weapon.”

“Blessed are thou among women…”

“I do pray, Father,” the young man responds. “We all pray. But we must do more than pray!”

“And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus…”

“Must we?”

“Holy Mary…”

“Yes, Father.”

“Mother of God…”

“Including committing the grievous sin of lying?”

“Forgive us our sins, now and at the hour of our death. Amen…”

Anthony’s head bows behind the screen. “I’m sorry, Father. I truly am. It’s just that… It’s just that I saw no other way to save my Church and my country.”

Father Francis closes his eyes and prays for guidance.

“Hail Mary, full of grace…”

“Can this lie of yours be undone?”

“The Lord is with thee…”

“No, Father,” the young man answers. “It’s out of my hands now.”

“Blessed are thou among women…”

“Is there to be bloodshed?”

“And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus…”

There is a pause as the penitent exhales slowly. “Not if we can help it, Father.”

“Holy Mary, Mother of God…”

It is then the Monsignor’s turn to sigh and to pause. “If we shed blood in our cause we cannot claim to be any better than our enemies. Can we, son?”

“Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen…”

“We don’t want to fight, Father,” Romero says. “We certainly don’t want to hurt anyone. We just want to be free, as free as God created us to be.”

“Hail Mary, full of grace…”

“God wants us to be free of sin,” Monsignor Green says. “That is true freedom. Lying enslaves us to the world and to Satan, the Prince of lies.”

“The Lord is with thee…”

The boy’s head drops even lower. “I am sorry Father and I beg our Lord’s forgiveness.”

“Blessed are thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus…”

The Monsignor detects remorse in the young Romero. It is perhaps not as much as the priest thinks is called for, but there is genuine regret mixed in with his rationalization for the lie. The young man is in a difficult position. He recognizes, at least intellectually, that he made the wrong decision, choosing to sin rather than trusting in God. It is a start, Monsignor Green thinks. It is something. It is better than no remorse at all. The priest prescribes Romero his penance.

“Oh my God, I am heartily sorry for all my sins,” the young man prays the
Act of Contrition
as Father Green absolves him. “And I detest them above all things, because they displease Thee, Who art infinitely good and worthy of all my love, and I firmly resolve, with the help of Thy grace, to do penance for them, and never more offend Thee.”

“Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen…”

“Go and sin no more,” the priest admonishes, as his brotherhood has been admonishing the world for more than two thousand years.

“Hail Mary, full of grace…”

The Alabaman thanks Monsignor Green and crosses himself. He slips a small laminated card through the lower frame of the lattice window.

“The Lord is with thee…”

“Merry Christmas, Father,” the boy says and slips out of the booth.

“Blessed are thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus…”

The Monsignor pulls the card through the tight slot and examines it in the dim light. It is a holographic missal card. One side depicts the Archangel Michael defeating Satan. The devil’s throat is pinned under the angel’s heel. Michael’s sword is pointed at Satan’s head while the Archangel’s face looks rapturously towards Heaven. On the other side of the card is a Crucifix. A quotation from Saint Augustine circles the cross.

‘If you would be the friend of God, you must be the enemy of the world.’

“Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.”

23:44:56

The Georgetown bar is packed with political grunts not fortunate enough to be home for the holiday. Except for a lone man sitting at a booth tucked away in the far corner of the bar, everyone would like to be somewhere else. He is Congressman Lamar Reed, junior member of the House Intelligence Committee and he is exactly where he wants to be. His lean and muscled, six-foot-two frame is stretched out languidly with ankles crossed beneath the booth. He has a smooth, chestnut complexion and gray eyes that stare absently into the rocks glass held loosely between his long-fingered hands. Congressman Reed loves DC more than most and so he doesn’t mind postponing his vacation until the spring. He fell in love with Washington while still in college. He came down from Indiana to play a little ‘Hoosier Ball’ with the hometown Hoyas. Lamar and his Hoosiers trounced the Hoyas and he stayed on a few days to take in the sights.

At the time not many a college coach would leave a player behind on his promise to catch up with them. Discipline among athletes at both the college and professional level had been deteriorating for decades, but he was, Lamar Reed. And Lamar Reed was used to getting what he wanted. His grandmother had let him in on the secret as a child.

“A man who can be trusted rarely hears, ‘no, you can’t.’”

As a basketball player, Reed’s stats were respectable, but he was not the sharpest shot on the team. There were many other players in the league who were faster and stronger than he was, but none were as well respected and loved. He was the straight A’s, golden boy of college basketball. The media attention he received rivaled that of many pros. He belonged to more than his hometown of Bloomington and the state of Indiana. His sterling behavior on and off the court endeared him to the sport and beyond. A popular sports writer opined, ‘while many a star athlete can whip fans into various states of frenzy, few are of the caliber, the order of magnitude that can create fans and add devotees to their sports.’