Paul raced up the large stone steps that led to the door of the old church. Rocks of rain shattered the puddles around him. The sky was a dark blue and the rain had soaked right through Paul’s thin jacket. He finally reached the door and carefully opened it. The sounds of a sullen organ immediately rang in his ears as he shut the door behind him. He quickly tore off his drenched jacket and hung it on a hanger in the lobby. When he shook his head, drops of rain flew from his blond hair in all directions, and his wet feet made suction-cup noises as he walked down the bare floor of the aisle.
        It was a Tuesday afternoon and the only beings in the church were the organ player, the priest, a few nuns, and the occasional worshipper stationed in the pews. Paul sat down toward the front of the church to dry off a bit, and reached for the Bible that lay across the pew. He had heard of a method called bibliomancy, a way of reading the scripture when you need advice and decided to try it. Paul closed his eyes, opened the Bible, and flipped aimlessly through the pages. He stopped at a page and ran his finger smoothly down his chosen page until he felt satisfied. He opened his eyes and read the lines he chose.

        “Hypocrites,” Paul whispered to himself, “that’s what this is about. This doesn’t help me at all.” He shut the book and slid it to the end of the pew. Standing up, he gazed at the front of the church. The statue of Jesus hanging from the cross looked pitiful and made Paul angry. The air in the church felt evil this afternoon, as if a lost soul had come to corrupt the holiness of the place. Even the decorated stained glass did not seem as spectacular to Paul as it once had.
        Paul walked solemnly to the empty confession booth, opened the door, and sat inside. Immediately, a voice creeped through the wire mesh.
        “Hello, my child. How can I help you?” The Priest asked quietly. His voice made Paul cringe, for it also sounded fake.
        “I have a confession,” Paul replied biting his lip, “I have been living an unholy lifestyle.”
        “Go on, my child. Whatever sins you have committed will be forgiven by the grace of the Almighty God if you simply repent.”
     “I have been doing things I shouldn’t be doing. Father, I have found myself not to be attracted to women and I have been seeing a male companion for over a month now,” Paul confessed.
        There was a pause. Paul could hear pages turning beyond the wire mesh as the Priest searched for a scripture.
        “Child,” The Priest sighed, “God frowns upon this nature. It is not normal for a man to be attracted to another man. It is a sin, and God condemns sin. In First Corinthians, chapter six, verse nine, God says that homosexuals will not inherit the Kingdom of God. And in the book of Romans, chapter one, verse thirty-one, God states that homosexuality is only practiced by the senseless, heartless, faithless, and ruthless. My son, I know you do not wish to be any of these. Repent now and you will be forgiven.”
        “Father, how can I deny the way I feel? I don’t feel normal around women. How can I pretend to be something I am not?” Paul asked sternly.
        “My son,” the Priest started in an overly sympathetic tone, “God did not create man to love man. What He did not create is not His. Those who don’t follow God are against Him and don’t belong in His Holy Church. My son, there is a way to win God’s love back by repenting of your evil behavior and accepting Jesus back into your heart. Shall we pray now?”
        The priest began reciting the “Our Father.” His voice seemed to trail and the words shot out of his mouth as if he did not know what he was saying. Paul stood up and walked out of the small booth halfway through his heartless prayer. How could such a loving God not accept him for who he was?
        Paul sat back down on the pew and stared at the altar. The sun reflecting off the gold-lined altar blinded him and the evil Paul sensed before was now stronger than ever. Paul stood up from the pew and strolled down the aisle. In the front left corner of the church, he noticed a line of stairs that led to a lower part of the church. As he plodded down each step of stairs, the light around him seemed to grow dimmer and the evil remained. He had never been in the basement of the church before and curiosity attacked him. He walked down the basement hall like a lion ready to pounce, darting his eyes through every doorway.
        As he walked, he could hear women’s voices down the corridor as he approached. They were coming from a small room ahead and Paul crept slowly closer to listen. The voices had ceased now, but Paul sensed some sort of movement inside the room. He peeked through the doorway of the room. It was a small, brown, comfortable-looking room lit by a small lamp placed on a crooked dresser. A faded blue and orange couch sat at one corner of the room and a small table at the other. In the center of the room stood two nuns, one was a bit shorter than the other. Their arms were wrapped around each other and their lips were touching. Their eyes were closed in a long passionate kiss and they seemed content and beautiful. There was no evil in this room.
        Paul turned and walked away from the room careful not to disturb them. He marched back up the stairs and right passed the altar without paying homage to the Holy Virgin Mary. He did not look back at the dying Jesus on the cross as he grabbed his still damp jacket and draped it over his right shoulder. He opened the church door and left it behind as he walked silently home in the pouring rain.