#Fiction Friday: #Novelines from the Book

Mormoni

David had always taught me to be suspicious of churches asking for money, as he believed them to be more interested in saving one’s soul than one’s life—for the salvation of a soul could not be proven. “I’ll pray for you,” was a commonality in the South, never “What can I do to help?”

The Bishop asked if I’d had a burning in my bosom, & I told him of the dream I’d had of God, never telling him I had dreamt that when I woke, David was where God had been.

I knew then that he didn’t believe the Church was true, for he loved a lie because it was a beautiful lie—a lie that gave him power over those who were true believers.

I lied to the Bishop when I said I had a testimony of the Church, but I wanted admittance to the temple, where the events that happened therein were considered a sacred secret.

I began to bear false witness that the Church was true, & I wondered if, for those who did believe, were in a more favorable situation.

The Bishop, in an indirect way, asked me if I was a virgin. I was, & I sacrificed myself to the Church—where I’d worship, but not be worshipped.

I was called by the Bishop to teach in the nursery, but how could I refuse if God Himself had asked me to, albeit through the conduit known as the Bishop?

The temple recommend was the invitation to enter God’s earthly home, & it came with a price of 10 percent of our income and 7 percent of our time which seemed a fair market value for all the fellowship & friendship we got in return.

I prayed for God’s forgiveness for bearing false witness to the Bishop that the Church was true.

David had taught me to be a freethinker, but to receive the blessings marriage or religion brought, one had forsake their autonomy.

“When our leaders speak, the thinking has been done,” the Bishop said.

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