Lives Between Walls

The question to me is, what is your concept of God? What has informed your concept of what God is to you? I find it’s not that we have different beliefs, but I believe it’s differing levels of the knowledge of God. It’s one God that we all know. Every facet of God is embedded within every religion and belief. The fullness of the God concept, is scattered across every tribe, every person, as fragments of the big bang of confusion. The ones who have picked up all these pieces will have a fuller picture of the God concept. Well, that’s what I believe now anyways. I didn’t use to always see it that way. Pardon me, I don’t think I got your name. My name is Warren Andreev – Former Bishop at the Catholic Church. I’m actually well known in the town, I’m surprised you haven’t heard of me. But its okay, maybe you’re not into all that church stuff so I get it. I want to share with you a strange encounter I had on the train some time ago. I believe it was God ordained, because it changed my whole life.

I pretty much grew up in Orchidville – born and bred. My family moved here in 1920 from Russia, at the start of the Russian civil war – after the Bolshevik Revolution. My family found their solace and comfort in religion and joined the Catholic Church here. As for me, I got into this God thing quite early in my life thanks to my overly zealous parents. From the time I began to talk, I could recite the Lord’s Prayer – so I am told anyways. My dad was so proud of me, he would always show off every Sunday by having my mom bring me up to the front to recite the prayer before his congregation. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention my dad was a pastor – a damn good one at that. So you can imagine how proud he was when I was made a church leader at 11 years old – the youngest one in the history of Orchidville. People came from far and wide to hear this child prodigy preach and they marveled and wondered what destiny lay in store for me. “If he can preach at such a young age, what great destiny lies in this boy’s future?” My fame spread, so much so that both people from the congregation, and the person who had never set foot in the church a day in their lives knew about me. I personally knew that God had a great calling on my life, and I was not going to let anything jeopardise that. How did I know? I just knew. I spent most of my time praying and reading the bible. I didn’t have many friends in my neighbourhood as me and my peers shared little in common. I simply had no interest in women, sports, flashy cars, or the extravagant life. Then it was no surprise to all when I eventually decided to become celibate, and was made a Bishop in our parish after I finished my high school. My dad, at that time an old man was beside himself with joy – a shame though that my mother had not lived to see that day, having passed away in the previous year. She would have been just as proud. I made a vow of celibacy and decided that I was not going to marry, but spend my life doing what I wanted most – being an overseer of God’s people. I did enjoy it – I had been doing it for twenty years up to that point and I was now in my late forties. I lived by myself in my two bedroom house, with Jasmine, a chubby young girl from the church who had volunteered to cook and clean for me for a predetermined fee. Bless her soul, she wasn’t much of a cook, but I kept her because she had no place to go and she needed the money to fund her studies – plus I enjoyed the company. Quite talkative that one, always had a story to tell.

Okay so now that you have a little context about me, I can tell you about this strange encounter I had on the train. I remember I had been coming home from the church on that Thursday afternoon. I was the last one at the church, so I locked up and made my way toward the train station. It was around 4pm, the sky was overcast and foreboding. Spring was always the time of unexpected sudden rains in Orchidville. So I had to hurry to avoid being caught by the rain. It was always busy at that time with school children darting in and out of the crowds, making their way home, and men and women knocking off from their shifts. I hurried down the stairs to the subway, rubbing shoulders with strangers as I made my way into the train. I loved using the train, I got to meet some really interesting people – and I love people. I guess that’s what doing the work of the Lord does to you. The train was packed like a sardine can, so I decided to do the javelin and stand, like many others. As the train began to screech into motion, a poky hand nudged me, “Father Warren.” I turned to see a young man with curly hair, smiling at me. “You can have my seat,” he insisted as he pointed to where he had gotten up from. That was really kind of him, “Why thank you young man. God bless you.” I was used to receiving many favours from people when they saw me, especially when I wore my collar and cross. I guess they thought that being nice to me earned them favour with God. They wouldn’t be too far of the mark with that belief, I can give you scripture for that as well if you want. I shuffled over to the seat – and when I saw who I was going to be sitting next to, I hesitated for a moment. “Oh err…” was all that came out of my mouth. The scantily clad young women turned away from her phone to scan me up and down as I sat next to her.

“Hello,” I said warmly as I slumped next to her. “Mmmmh,” she replied expressionless, returning her gaze to her phone. Honestly, at first glance, I thought she looked like a prostitute. The bright pink flowy hair, red lipstick, and her leather dress with a dangling silver chain, sat a hand length away from her knees revealing her gleaming full thighs. I had to force my gaze away, as I began to feel those evil desires slowly beginning to creep up on me. “Lord forgive me,” I muttered under my breath as I repented for staring too long. Minutes went by, as the train chugged along. After a few minutes of consideration, I thought that it would be a good idea to tell this girl about God. Which is my usual habit when I sit next to strangers on the train. I stole a quick glance at her, and saw that she was staring out the window. I thought let me engage her now. I faked a yawn and said, “This train is so slow, think I’ve grown a beard already.” She looked at me and her stone face cracked into a warm laugh. I took the open door. I reached out my hand, “Warren is the name.” She took my giant hand in her tiny but firm one, “Pleased to meet you.” I smiled back at her. “So, what do you do for a living, mam?” That was the first question I could think of asking her. She stared at me for a moment, as if she was trying to ascertain my intentions – till I felt quite awkward. She then turned towards the window again, “My name is Ezmi. I’m a student at Orchidville University.” Her voice was quite sweet, yet confident and so was her coy demeanour. She looked younger than her age because of her slender body. I would say she was probably in her late twenties. “Oh I see, Ezmi” I responded, “I’ve never heard that name before.”

“I get that alot. It’s actually Arabic. It means, ‘My Esteemed.’”

“Oh that’s interesting. Your parent’s were Arabic?”

“My dad is Muslim.”

“Oh I see.”

The sound of the train chugging filled the silence again. My eyes slowly drifted to her thighs once more. Suddenly she turned to face me, and caught me staring and I quickly shifted my gaze to the ceiling of the train – but it was too late. Oh Warren! Why do you struggle with this so much? I felt my face go flush with embarrassment. “So what do you do?” I heard her ask softly. This was my chance, to bring God into our conversation. “Well,” I replied, “I am a messenger of God at Orchidville Parish, and I basically teach people the ways of God.” Ezmi shifted around in her seat slightly. Had I made her uncomfortable? “I see,” she finally replied, “so are you a Catholic Priest?” She must have noticed the cross I had been wearing on my neck – which was usually worn by priests in the church. I nodded. She giggled putting her hand to her mouth, “So are you celibate?” I was used to that reaction by now. People were amazed to think that a person could live without sex. How childish. “Well yes,” I explained, “I have chosen to serve my God over the temporal pleasures of this life. And I tell you truly, this life is much more rewarding for me.”

The girl gave a chuckle at this, “‘The temporal pleasures of life?’ Who art thou? Shakespeare?” I smiled and shrugged my shoulders not knowing what to say to that. Ezmi was quiet for a while, as though she was processing this information. “So your service to God is denying the desires that he gave you?” She asked after what seemed like an eternity. I swallowed as I thought of my answer. “Well, I wouldn’t have put it that way Ezmi, but in a way yes. It’s almost like saying, I will not eat that dessert because I have a greater purpose I want to achieve – perhaps lose weight because I’m training to run a marathon – or whatever. Nothing wrong with the dessert, just I have a higher purpose in mind.” The girl stared at me, still amused. “But such a great sacrifice, just seems a bit too much for me,” she retorted. I chuckled, “Well, that’s why the bible says that it’s not for everyone – if God has put it in your heart, you will know.”

“So be honest Warren, you’re telling me that you really wouldn’t want to bang me right now?” She asked with a mischievous grin plastered across her face. Her question caught me by surprise and I was stuttering, “Er… se… you mean, what?” My face was flush red. She threw her head back and let out a full throated laugh. “I saw you eyeing my legs FATHER WARREN!” she erupted. I was literally lost for words, and getting really hot under the collar. Of all the seats on the train, why did I have to sit next to the crazy one?! How dare she insult a Father like that?! “Watch your mouth young lady, that is not how you speak to an older man! How dare you say such filthy things?” I rebuked her sternly. I could feel my hands trembling. That usually happened when I was really angry. When she realized how angry I was, her laugh came to a grinding halt and she calmed herself down. “I’m really sorry,” she replied with genuine remorse, “I was only joking.” I turned away from her and stared ahead, fuming. Why did the mention of sex make me so emotional? At this point I just wanted to get away from her. The train kept chugging along. We made around two stops on our way and I watched people getting off the train. Great, there were now a few more empty seats two rows away from me. Now I could get away from this foolish woman and sit elsewhere. As I was about to get up, I felt her hand tug at my jersey, “Father Warren, what do you think God looks like?” She asked me.

“Excuse me?” I was totally taken aback by the disjuncture of the question. “The God that you are serving. What does he look like?” She persisted. I thought about it for a moment. “Well, no one has seen God Ezmi, I haven’t either, so I can’t tell you. But I know we are made in his image so he can look like you, and me.”

“So you haven’t seen him?”

“Of course not!”

“Then how do you know he has called you to serve him like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like this. Did he tell you that he wanted you to become a priest and deprive yourself of the pleasures of life?”

“Well… no. It’s just a conviction I have deep within my heart that I am doing his will.”

“Who’s will?”

“God’s will.”

“Which God?”

“The one true God, the only God.”

“The God you haven’t met.”

“I have met him, but not physically.”

“How do you meet someone ‘not physically?’”

“Well it’s difficult to explain, it’s a faith thing. I just know in my heart that I am walking in his will.”

“The will of a God you haven’t met. It’s just the ideas and concepts you heard about from someone else and accepted as your own.”

“Excuse me what?”

“I’m asking if becoming a celibate priest is the way God wanted you to serve him Warren.”

“What the heck do you know about God anyway, you’re dressed like a prostitute.”

I immediately regretted saying those words to her. I quickly put my hand to my mouth, “I’m so sorry Ezmi, I didn’t mean it.” She smiled weakly and stared at her feet. “It’s okay Father Warren, I really find honesty refreshing.” I was so filled with regret – here I was trying to be a good example to this woman and demonstrate the gracious love of God, and now I have gone ahead and judged her. She looked up at me again and smiled. It was at that moment I noticed how beautiful she was – not just physically, but even radiating from within was a complex beauty. “Look Father Warren, I’m just saying, make sure that your idea of serving God has been defined by God himself, and not what someone told you.” I sat back and pulled on my grey beard. This is the last conversation I thought I would be having with this stranger. I am usually the one teaching and instructing people. But on this evening, I was her congregation! She seemed to have amazing and unexpected insight, and her words gripped something inside of me.

“I hear you Ezmi. And I think your point is valid. But I have been doing this for over 20 years now. Lives have been changed, marriages saved, and people have been delivered through my serving God this way.”

“And what about you?”

“What do you mean, what about me?”

“Have you been delivered?”

I was quiet for a while and stared out the window. It was dark outside, and the train was passing through the woods, yet you could make out the trees covered in patches of snow. The last signs of winter where fading away and making room for the season where everything comes to life. The train was getting closer to my stop now. “I am happiest doing what I have been called to do Ezmi. There is nothing in the world that I would rather do but the work of God,” I replied with a confident smile. She sighed and brushed her pink hair back, realising that she could not get through to me. She also glanced out the window, and said “You know what my concept of God is?”

“No but I have a feeling you will tell me.”

“Experience.”

“I don’t understand.”

“If I did everything that everyone told me to do Warren, I would not need experience. I would not need a brain. If God told me to become a preacher tomorrow, how will I ever know what else I was capable of in this life? And if God were to tell me to be celibate tomorrow, how can I just shut down my desires? If I tried, I would be lying against myself. And that’s why you priests end up molesting little boys because you cannot suppress your natural cravings forever.”

“Listen, I chose to do what I am doing. No one told me to do it. I did it – “

“Because you believe that is what God wants of you?”

“Yes.”

“And your proof that this is what God wants of you is the people you have helped throughout your 20 years of ministry right?”

“Yes.”

“Were you helped? Was it worth it to you, Warren? Hiding yourself and your personality all these years, hiding your likes and your desires, hiding your status updates from your congregation, the people you call your family – sacrificing yourself and living a double life so that you feel acceptance? Is that how you earned your parents’ love as well? You thought being good was the only way you could ever be worth anything to anyone, so you chose to be a hero in return for love. You are not serving God, you are serving yourself.”

I don’t know what happened at that point, but I couldn’t hold back the tears and I started weeping uncontrollably. Her words cut me to the heart. She noticed and put her arm on my shoulder and comforted me. “It’s okay Warren,” she whispered in my ear. I could feel the rest of the passenger’s eyes resting on this peculiar sight. Who could blame them, this was certainly an unusual, a young girl with her arm around a sobbing priest. “It’s not too late Warren,” I could hear her soothing voice amidst my sobs, “to get a new concept of God.” I looked up to her, trying to understand what she was going on about, my eyes still teary. Why was I crying at this point? Because if there was a possibility that this was true, I would have wasted so much of my life. To what end had I denied myself so much if it had all been for nothing?

“It’s time to fill your cup Warren,” Ezmi smiled as she reached and handed me that tissue from her bag. I don’t remember much after that, except that when the train got nearer to Ezmi’s stop, she cupped my hands in hers and said to me, “Now you have a choice to make. You can forget the conversation we had and continue with your God concept, and life as Father Warren, or you can get off this train with me as just ‘Warren’ and acquire a new concept of God. The choice is yours.”

It’s been 10 years since that day and I am glad to say that getting off the train with Ezmi, was the best choice I ever made in my life. I have written my third book now, and it is a best seller. This is what I want to use the latter part of my years to do, to educate as many people as possible – if I can spare them from going through what I went through. This is now my mission, and my true calling.

What is your concept of God? Water gives life, but it can also destroy. The fire gives warmth, but it can also burn. Likewise, I am convinced that there is nothing more dangerous, than an incorrect concept of God.