A New Eden by Quent Cordair

Author:Quent Cordair [Cordair, Quent]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Historical, Roman, Romance
ISBN: 9781536801323
Amazon: 1536801321
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2016-08-10T23:00:00+00:00

The bar was filling with late-afternoon customers. As Sandal refilled Paige’s water glass, Paige looked up and asked, “So – what’s the Church’s obsession with the hill?”

“You really want to know?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

“The story is that back in the 1860s, the Church’s founder, Obadiah Skairn, dragged a wooden cross all the way up the hill one Good Friday, all by himself, followed by his followers. On the summit, at his insistence, they tied him to the cross with ropes, nailed his hands to the crosspiece, and planted the cross in the ground. The followers then went back down to the church as instructed and held a prayer vigil, leaving him to hang on the cross alone. At dawn on Easter morning, they returned. He claimed to have spoken directly to God, and God to him. He preached a sermon to them from the cross. Afterwards, they took him down, tended his wounds, and carried him and the cross back down the hill. He did it again the next Easter, and again, for seven years straight.”

“Wow. Why?”

Sandal shrugged. “He was emulating Christ. According to his writings he was striving to be as Christ-like, as ‘Christian,’ as he could possibly be, learning to suffer the way Christ had suffered, to be spiritually attuned to Christ’s perspective, to serve as the best possible example to his flock.”

“That must have been terribly painful and uncomfortable. And dangerous. He really had nails driven through his hands?”

“You wouldn’t want to suggest to a Flocker that it didn’t happen just the way the story is written and told.”

“He was completely exposed to the elements up there, for two nights?”

“So they say. Now if you can imagine a late spring freeze, some driving wind and rain – there can be snow up at that elevation as late as Easter.”

“He’s lucky to have survived it one year, much less seven.”

“That’s the thing. Hanging on the cross was allegedly the last thing on earth he ever did. He had prophesied that God would someday honor his dedication and suffering by taking him directly up to heaven, and sure enough – or so the Flock claims – one Easter morning when his followers went back up the hill to fetch him they found only the cross. Obadiah Skairn was never seen again.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. She glanced around, working to suppress her incredulity. Fortunately, as a reporter, she’d had years of practice, though Sandal wasn’t helping, with the smile in her eyes. “Well. Okay then,” Paige said. “So, the hill is the Flock’s holy place. I hear Passion Week is quite the spectacle.”

“Too bad you won’t be here. Obadiah’s cross – the very same one, they claim – is brought down from its place on the cathedral wall. The prophet’s story is integrated into the Passion Play. On Friday, with thousands of the Flock following, the cross is carried in a grand procession to the hill – to as far as the West Gate. The first part of the play, on Thursday night, is impressive too.

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