The Cathedral

      A Parable

      Copyright © 2017 Jeff Hood. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in critical publications or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the publisher. Write: Permissions, Wipf and Stock Publishers, 199 W. 8th Ave., Suite 3, Eugene, OR 97401.

      Resource Publications

      An Imprint of Wipf and Stock Publishers

      199 W. 8th Ave., Suite 3

      Eugene, OR 97401

      www.wipfandstock.com

      paperback isbn: 978-1-5326-4089-6

      hardcover isbn: 978-1-5326-4090-2

      ebook isbn: 978-1-5326-4091-9

      Manufactured in the U.S.A. January 15, 2019

      Cover artwork: “The Source of the Queer” —Emily Jean Hood

      For the Queens

      The Drive

      “If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, shake the dust off your feet as you leave that town.”

      —Matthew 10:14

      The highway sun played tricks. What was I thinking? I guess I wasn’t. Just when everyone gained some understanding in Jefferson, Mississippi, I had to up and go on a damn crusade. Riding in that car, I prayed for God to guide me. When I considered the guidance was leading me to Texas, I started to reconsider the whole praying business. Truthfully, seafood was all I believed in at the present moment. When I sat down at the only restaurant in all of Molasses, Louisiana, there was no way I could’ve predicted what was next.

      The waitress approached the table and tipped her boobs at me while taking my drink order. While a little sidetracked, I managed to tell her that I would like a glass of sweet tea. Before leaving the table, she told me her name was Mary and asked, “What do you do?” I guess my satchel gave away that I was heading somewhere for something. “I’m a preacher,” I replied. Mary blurted out, “God told me you were coming!!!” Mary raced over to the kitchen door. The first time I noticed that there was a bell on the wall was when she was ringing it. I hadn’t noticed how many people were in the restaurant. Feeling something and climbing the counter, Mary declared at the top of her lungs, “We’ve got a preacher in the house tonight!” I couldn’t believe my ears. Repeatedly, I resisted her gestures for me to come up. Then the entire restaurant started begging for a few words. I obliged. Letting out a fart that I prayed no one heard, I climbed up with Mary and started preaching. That short sermon was unforgettable.

      “Jesus was an interesting guy wasn’t he? The more I read about Jesus the more I question how I was raised. Honestly, I doubt our part of the country would’ve liked Jesus too much. While we’re running around trying to keep gay marriage from happening, we forget that Jesus ran around in a skirt with a bunch of men. We shouldn’t even need to have all these conversations about sexuality. The Bible is pretty clear that Jesus was gay. I guess all this gives new meaning to Jesus declaring his love for the world? In the light of such an interpretation, promiscuity doesn’t seem so bad. Do you know what I mean?”

      I’d gotten so into the preaching that I hadn’t done much looking around. When I finally did, I realized that someone was choking on a piece of fried shrimp on the other side of the restaurant. What I assumed to be the man’s wife screamed, “Leroy! LeRoY! LEROY!!!” One of the cooks darted out of the kitchen and punched the old guy in the stomach. A piece of shrimp flew across the room and landed right on my shoe. The manager looked at me and yelled, “You almost killed Leroy with that crazy shit. Here, take these few pieces of bread and two fish. Don’t be coming round here no more!” People have always told me that I don’t have a proper understanding of place. Regardless, I shook the dust off of my feet and moved quickly toward the door. Before I completely got out the door, I yelled, “Y’all can all kiss the rainbow tattoo on my ass. I don’t care what y’all say . . . that was a damn good sermon.”

      I ended up sleeping in my car that night. I guess I was too afraid of encountering more folks like the ones I did in Molasses. The yellow lights of the gas station were mesmerizing. I slept hard until someone banged on the door. A man with his erect penis pushed up against my window was standing there with a smile on his face. I rolled down the window slightly and asked, “May I help you?” “Are you Max?” “Nope, I’m Christian.” “Oops . . . sorry to bother you . . . I was just looking for Max. This is a really popular spot for cruising and I saw your manicured fingernails and well I . . . I . . . You wouldn’t want to fool around would you?” “No!!!” I cranked up the car and roared off. What in the hell had just happened? I’ll never forget that night. Believe me . . . I’ve tried.

      The miles quickened. Before I knew it . . . I saw the sign. “Everything’s bigger in Texas.” After one hell of a trip, I was finally here. Pulling over, I knelt down beside the sign to pray. I knew God called me to be a church planter and that’s exactly what I intended to do. When a tough looking cowboy pulled over, I expected him to give me shit and tell me to leave. Instead, he asked to pray. After bowing my head, he said, “Repeat after me . . . Lord Jesus . . . I am a sinner . . . come into my life and forgive me of all my sins.” Looking me straight in the eyes, he questioned, “Did you mean it?” I didn’t know what to say . . . so, I just said, “Yes!” The cowboy goy all excited and started running around. When he stopped, he shouted . . . ”Welcome to Texas . . . heaven.” Before he left, he invited me to his Cowboy Church. Running to his pickup, he told me he had to get going . . . there were other souls to save. After he drove off, I realized something . . . everything smelled like shit.

      I only stopped once. I had to. Everyone had always told me about Bullseye’s. The joint didn’t disappoint. With over fifty gas pumps and a convenience store as big as any grocery store . . . I was in heaven. As I put my mouth under the frozen drink machine and turned it on, I didn’t count the cost. I called the property management company to let them know I was getting close. Before I arrived to the apartment, I started to feel it. Upon arrival, I ran to the toilet as fast as I could. I jumped onto the seat and took an incredibly loud shit. When I finished, I was so relieved. Tom from the management company greeted me in the living room. I overlooked him on the rush in. Due to the smell and theatrics of it all, Tom was in toxic shock. Before he finished giving me all of the instructions, he ran out the door. As he spewed his lunch all the way to his car, I shouted out, “I’m here to plant a new church!”

      The First Days

      “The first shall be last and the last first . . . ”

      —Matthew 20:16

      Darkness filled those early morning hours. At the time, I loved it. I felt like I was the only one. Now, I know better. I moved quickly to press the coffee. Once the cup was poured, I took three deep breaths. I dared not take another. I felt like it would be wasteful. Every step reminded me of my loneliness. They say that you’re never alone when you’ve got God. “They” are full of shit. The carpet crunched. I could feel the excess cleaner getting caught beneath my toenails. I thought about getting my slippers from the bathroom . . . but I knew the slippers were right next to the lotion and that would just lead to getting lost in yet another round of morning masturbation. I had to keep my mind right. God called me to plant a church not masturbate! Regardless of my will, I was stuck to the floor. Frozen in time, I could feel every bone in my body. I never thought I’d be alone. After I reigned in my thoughts, I retreated to the small balcony. I loved that place. I can still feel the cold Texas air. I opened the Bible and stumbled upon the feeding of the five thousand. I figured that if Jesus could feed the five thousand then that slut could certainly turn a miracle out of me.

      For the first few days, I wandered around Jackson, Texas. I’d never been in a city so large or diverse. I met many different types