Word: Vehement

 

vehement

American  

[vee-uh-muhnt] / ˈvi ə mənt /

adjective

1. zealous; ardent; impassioned.

   a vehement defense;

   vehement enthusiasm

2. characterized by rancor or anger; violent.

   vehement hostility.

3. strongly emotional; intense or passionate.

   vehement desire.

4. marked by great energy or exertion; strenuous.

   vehement clapping.

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                    The church was filled. Not that that was a particularly grand achievement. It was a small church in a small town. The kind of place where everyone knew each other, and half of them only went because of that fact. There was only one person who was unknown to the congregation. Normally that would be the big piece of gossip among the town for weeks to come. But today nobody cared. Or at least nobody acted like they cared.

                   The stranger wore a long black coat, even inside. His eyes were covered in dark glasses. Even his hat and shoes were black. He sat in the very last pew; several seats removed from the closest person. He sat straight backed and rigid, with his eyes firmly set at the front of the church.

                   The church’s head priest slowly approached the podium, ready to give his sermon for the day. The priest was a man in his middle years, and he visibly carried all of them. His hair was thinning and turning grey. His middle was expanding while his back was starting the bend before its time. His face was in the process of developing lines and wrinkles that would one day be as deep as a canyon.

                   “Greetings, my friends.” The priest spoke. Although his body was starting to wear down, his voice betrayed none of that. “It is so good to see you all here, especially given the times we now live in. A time when we are beset by enemies on all sides. A time when simply looking out for our future and our children’s future is decried and frowned upon.”

                   The stranger tilted his head ever so slightly as he listened. The priest spoke with absolute conviction. He spoke with certainty and passion. He was intense, powerful, and charismatic. And he spoke of all the wrong things. The stranger frowned as he heard the sermon.

                   The man spoke of hatred and violence. He spoke falsehoods like they were the absolute, undeniable truth. He spoke about the enemies that should be treated as neighbors. He spoke of those who should have been shunned as if they were holy men and women. Not once did the man speak the true Word. Not once did the so-called priest give messages of love and acceptance as he should have.

                   And the congregation ate every word with the passion of true zealots. The stranger clasped his hands and forced himself to remain silent and seated. These were not the Flock. These were bearers of falsehoods. People who wore the Word like a cloak that could be shed at any moment. And they did not realize it. They thought themselves faithful. They thought themselves to be true to the Word. They worked themselves up into a frenzy of false belief and violent passion.

                   When the service was over, the stranger rose and left before anyone else. He was amazed that he had stayed for as long as he had. He knew why he needed to hear that hate-filled sermon. He needed to know what the Flock was doing. This was just one of many congregations he would visit. One of many he had already visited. Most were not like this one. But those that were left a sour taste in his mouth.

                    Something would need to be done about those churches. And once he was finished attending for the day, he would speak to those higher than him. And something would be done. And hopefully what happened would help prevent such groups from forming in the future. For the sake of all mankind, it would have to.