no problem but he had to concentrate on working around the little feathery plants in between. The silence grew uncomfortable. He looked up to see that Johnny Faye had taken a seat in the sycamore throne and leaned back and turned his head, eyes half-closed, to the sky.
“So what kind of vegetables are these, anyway?”
Johnny Faye raised his head—one corner of his mouth twisted as if in pain. “You still believe in the Easter Bunny?”
“Well. The Easter Bunny. Well, no, at least not strictly speaking, but the Easter Bunny is a type, you know, of the risen Christ. Pre-Christian cultures saw the rabbit as a creature given to . . . fertility, and as a harbinger of spring. Then at some point Christians saw an opportunity to embody in a children’s myth the principles of rebirth and renewal that are central to Christ’s Resurrection.”
Johnny Faye laid his head back against the trunk and sighed, a heave of exasperation. Flavian understood that he had failed to grasp some important point. “Well, I’m sorry.”
“Tomatoes.”
“Tomatoes?”
“I grow a shitload of tomatoes. My old lady cans ’em and gives ’em away at Christmas time. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Like what?”
“I thought you told me the only thing you know anything about is God.”
“Something like that.”
“Well, then, I guess then you’d better talk about God. It’s Sunday. I hadn’t been to church. You’re on, preacher.”
For a moment Flavian was at a loss for words, until he remembered that on Sundays he folded the sheet with the day’s epistles and stuck it in his pocket for later reading. He pulled out the sheet and cleared his throat. “Well. This is from the Letter of Paul to the Hebrews. You know who Paul was.”
“Sure, who don’t.”
“OK, then, let’s look at the letter for today.”
Flavian flattened the crumpled sheet of paper against his thigh and began to read. “‘Some had to bear being pilloried’—Paul is talking about the Hebrew prophets and faithful in the centuries before Jesus arrived, some of whom were chained up and mocked in public for their beliefs.
Some had to bear being pilloried and flogged, or even chained up in prison. They were stoned, or sawn in half, or killed by the sword; they were homeless, and wore only the skins of the sheep and goats; they were in want and hardship, and maltreated. They were too good for the world and they wandered in deserts and mountains and in caves and ravines. These all won acknowledgment through their faith, but they did notreceive what was promised, since God had made provision for us to have something better, and they were not to reach perfection except through us.
With so many witnesses in a great cloud around us, then, we too should throw off everything that weighs us down and the sin that clings so closely, and with perseverance keep running in the race which lies ahead of us. Let us keep our eyes fixed on Jesus, who leads us in our faith and brings it to perfection. For the sake of the joy which lay ahead of him, he endured the cross, disregarding the shame of it, and has taken his seat at the right of God’s throne.
Johnny Faye made a show of looking alert. “OK, you got your work cut out for you. Tell me what all that means.”
“Well, what part of it stuck in your head?”
Johnny Faye considered. “I liked the part about sitting at the right of God’s throne—I never seen a throne, of course, but I seen one in my mind, all gold and shiny and with clouds all around it, like those.” He pointed up at the bright summer sky, piled with lazy, light-catching cumulus. “And I liked the part about the witnesses in a great cloud around us. That’s the way the dead live on—through us, and them watching, I always felt like that was true. And I know people who are too good for the world, yeah, and who live in the mountains and caves because they caint go out in the world, it’s too filled with meanness. If they’re alive at
“So what kind of vegetables are these, anyway?”
Johnny Faye raised his head—one corner of his mouth twisted as if in pain. “You still believe in the Easter Bunny?”
“Well. The Easter Bunny. Well, no, at least not strictly speaking, but the Easter Bunny is a type, you know, of the risen Christ. Pre-Christian cultures saw the rabbit as a creature given to . . . fertility, and as a harbinger of spring. Then at some point Christians saw an opportunity to embody in a children’s myth the principles of rebirth and renewal that are central to Christ’s Resurrection.”
Johnny Faye laid his head back against the trunk and sighed, a heave of exasperation. Flavian understood that he had failed to grasp some important point. “Well, I’m sorry.”
“Tomatoes.”
“Tomatoes?”
“I grow a shitload of tomatoes. My old lady cans ’em and gives ’em away at Christmas time. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Like what?”
“I thought you told me the only thing you know anything about is God.”
“Something like that.”
“Well, then, I guess then you’d better talk about God. It’s Sunday. I hadn’t been to church. You’re on, preacher.”
For a moment Flavian was at a loss for words, until he remembered that on Sundays he folded the sheet with the day’s epistles and stuck it in his pocket for later reading. He pulled out the sheet and cleared his throat. “Well. This is from the Letter of Paul to the Hebrews. You know who Paul was.”
“Sure, who don’t.”
“OK, then, let’s look at the letter for today.”
Flavian flattened the crumpled sheet of paper against his thigh and began to read. “‘Some had to bear being pilloried’—Paul is talking about the Hebrew prophets and faithful in the centuries before Jesus arrived, some of whom were chained up and mocked in public for their beliefs.
Some had to bear being pilloried and flogged, or even chained up in prison. They were stoned, or sawn in half, or killed by the sword; they were homeless, and wore only the skins of the sheep and goats; they were in want and hardship, and maltreated. They were too good for the world and they wandered in deserts and mountains and in caves and ravines. These all won acknowledgment through their faith, but they did notreceive what was promised, since God had made provision for us to have something better, and they were not to reach perfection except through us.
With so many witnesses in a great cloud around us, then, we too should throw off everything that weighs us down and the sin that clings so closely, and with perseverance keep running in the race which lies ahead of us. Let us keep our eyes fixed on Jesus, who leads us in our faith and brings it to perfection. For the sake of the joy which lay ahead of him, he endured the cross, disregarding the shame of it, and has taken his seat at the right of God’s throne.
Johnny Faye made a show of looking alert. “OK, you got your work cut out for you. Tell me what all that means.”
“Well, what part of it stuck in your head?”
Johnny Faye considered. “I liked the part about sitting at the right of God’s throne—I never seen a throne, of course, but I seen one in my mind, all gold and shiny and with clouds all around it, like those.” He pointed up at the bright summer sky, piled with lazy, light-catching cumulus. “And I liked the part about the witnesses in a great cloud around us. That’s the way the dead live on—through us, and them watching, I always felt like that was true. And I know people who are too good for the world, yeah, and who live in the mountains and caves because they caint go out in the world, it’s too filled with meanness. If they’re alive at
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