c. 2026 Rod Ice
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(2-26)
Sunday morning at the Taylor County Nazarene Worship Center turned out to be predictably busy. The church was not far from where Krista Pearl lived, and she sometimes heard other employees at her jobsite mention attending services at that location. The group had swelled in size during recent years, with over 500 active members participating. The spiritual head of this communal enclave was a clergyman who came from a school of preaching located in Mississippi. His fire-and-brimstone approach to gospel truths resonated well with believers who needed a contrast from the worldly inclinations of regular folk. Yet when their number was increased by the truck-stop clerk, and her biker companion, a palpable reaction of surprise and suspicion echoed in the sanctuary.
Parker Redman sat stiffly in a back pew. He recognized several of the song selections, but when their pastor rose from his spot, to begin offering an inspirational message, there was a drastic change of mood.
Reverend J. Fortrell Hageschutte towered in the pulpit. He had the physical stature of a professional athlete. Both tall and generous in girth. Though balding slightly, he affected a stylish coif with careful grooming. His suit was dark blue, with gray lapels, and sharply tailored. He wore a red necktie. Once his address to the congregation had gotten underway, he projected a master’s command of Bible scriptures, and dramatic effects used by many public speakers.
“This morning, I’d like to speak about the fires of hell, brothers and sisters. A subject that too many squishy, new-age preachers like to avoid. Hell is real, I tell you! Hell is a place of eternal damnation. Hell is the landing zone for those who reject righteousness and the commandments of Almighty God. Hell is at the bottom of a slippery slope. Hell awaits, for people who make excuses, and try to fine-tune the Word of God with feelgood ambiguities! Hell is there for anyone who forgets their faith when trends and fashions change popular ways of thinking! Hell is ready to punish and condemn! Hell is hot! Hotter than hot!”
The flock reacted accordingly.
“AMEN! AMEN! AMEN! AMEN!”
Krista gave a sideways glance to her partner. She could see that the hard tone and steely logic of this sermon was striking the roadgoing loner as an unwelcome inflection on holy themes. He shifted his position several times, without finding comfort where he sat. Finally, there was a whisper between the two visitors.
“Feeshtail, y’all have a darn funny look in yer eyes. Don’t make a scene, boy! I didn’t come here to be embarrassed in front of friends from the travel plaza! Just sit there and listen, maybe it’ll do ya some good...”
The reverend continued after mopping sweat from his forehead, with a monogrammed handkerchief.
“Hell is the reward for anyone who fails to stand with leaders who defend the faith, and faithful citizens. It is their inheritance of evil. A just punishment which will never end. A fate described many times in the scriptures. Many. many, many times! I stand with godly men and women! I stand with protectors of this nation and its keepers! I stand against the slide into debauchery, fornication, distributing falsehoods, and the lure of sin!”
Again, a chant of obedience buzzed from wall to wall.
“AMEN! AMEN! AMEN! AMEN!”
Parker remembered listening to his father lead services at various churches across Kentucky, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and the Mountaineer State. He knew many of the references by heart, even after years of withdrawal. But the voice ringing in his ears had a sharp timbre of breaking glass. The proclamations sounded partisan and ugly. Not in keeping with how Jesus addressed potential followers to humble themselves, and believe. Even some who had strayed far outside of social and theological boundaries.
Krista frowned visibly, as she listened. Fear caused an ache in her belly.
“Don’t move a muscle, Feesh! If y’all can’t take anymore of this, we’ll get up and go. I kinda wondered about comin’ here anyway! It was yer idea, remember?”
Parker had exhausted his reserve of patience. He threw aside his leather, motorcycle jacket, which left both tattooed arms exposed. Then, he picked up the Bible for Bikers manuscript, confiscated from his cousin’s garage.
“Brother, have you ever really felt the joy of Christ in your heart? The joy mentioned in John 15, a joy that is said to be complete?”
Hageschutte gasped upon seeing the shaggy, ink-bearing roughneck approaching him from the center aisle.
“YOU THERE! FOR WHAT PURPOSE DO YOU RISE? TO PROTEST, PERHAPS? THIS IS A DISRUPTION OF WORSHIP, SIR! NOT AN ACT TO BE TAKEN LIGHTLY! I ASK YOU TO SIT DOWN AND BE STILL! SHOW RESPECT FOR GOD AND HIS PEOPLE! SHOW RESPECT FOR THIS HOLY PLACE AND OUR TRADITIONS!”
The wandering misanthrope opened his strange manuscript. He began to read loudly, so that everyone who was present could hear.
John 15: 1-17, I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. If you do not remain in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned. If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples. As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. If you keep my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. My command is this: Love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command. I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you. You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you might go and bear fruit – fruit that will last – and so that whatever you ask in my name the Father will give you. This is my command: Love one another.”
He closed the tattered book, and folded his hands.
“What does the good word say, brother? It says love, it says friendship, and it says joy. I didn’t hear any of that in your screed about hell. There’s a reason that Jesus spoke as he did, to his followers. What reason do you have, for standing here this morning? Is it a love for your fellow believers? Or Christ and his kingdom? Or maybe... nothing but yourself? I ask you to think that over, and pray.”
Silence fell upon those who were in attendance. The reverend sputtered and shook, but could not regain control of his event. With a grunt of indifference, he simply sat down on the front pew, while church members began to sing.
Krista covered her face with both hands. She had tears in her eyes.
“Doggone it, Feeshtail, y’all just made us look like a couple of fools!”
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