the blink times

Went to church this weekend. Great music…dynamic preacher…excellent presentation..

I wondered if it really came from the heart, or was it all just a show?

Mr Simon entered the large hall of the church. It was an impressive building. Large grey marble walls, an artificial fountain in the courtyard and an underground auditorium the size of a stadium. This was the fruit of man’s religious dedication and piety, an urban highlight to pierce the darkness of man’s sin and shame. He had only been here a couple of times, but the people there greeted his presence with well wishes and smiles.

Mr Simon was old. He was 95 this year. The mobility of his limbs and the functionality of his organs were in rapid degeneration. He was bound to a wheelchair and he didn’t talk much, save for the occasional murmurs that the nurse translated into audible sentences. She wheeled him into the hall, for service was about to begin.

“Ladies and gentlemen! we’re gonna have a great time of worship today!”

His round droopy eyes lighted.

“So let’s get on our hands and feet and sing!”

The crowd cheered. His hands trembled. The music roared into his ears.

Fifteen minutes. He started to shiver, sweat was streaming down his face, and he couldn’t breathe. He closed his eyes, his hand dropped. Mr Simon was no more.

It was like any other day in heaven. White mammoth clouds, with choirs of angels singing in the undying halls and saints walking on air, smiling at one another. Raphael sat outside the entrance of the Heptagon, the chief office of God. He scratched his head, two snowy wings beating against each other.

His curiosity was inducing deep contemplation. Satellite-D, which aired global services to the citizens of heaven, showed a strange phenomenon. There were thousands of people in one church all singing and praising God, but only one voice – the voice of Mr Simon – was heard.

Raphael checked the controls, the circuitry was in place, so there wasn’t a problem with sound transmission (nothing goes wrong up there anyway). He adjusted the volume on his remote control, but he still failed to hear the voices of the masses. Something isn’t right, he thought. He was a young cherub, and since he started existing for a couple of centuries he didn’t knew as much as the likes of Mike and Gabe.

As he was unable to solve the problem, he decided to ask God for help.

God smiled at little Raphael. He was young, inquisitive and loved hearing God speak of mysteries and truths pertaining to the universe. This time, however it was about a TV show.

“Why could I hear only Mr Simon’s voice?” the angel asked.

“Well, he was taken up here shortly after, right?” God replied. Of course he knew where Mr Simon was, he was merely being mysterious.

“Yeah, but that’s not important…why couldn’t I hear the others singing?”

“Ah, Raph, what is it in Man that matters most to me?”

“His heart?” Raphael knew his boss was up to something, he just didn’t knew what it was.

“Yes, the heart. In that church, only Mr Simon’s heart was singing to me.”