Playing God

Pope James was jostled out of sleep by his 5am alarm. He rose out of bed, put on his white robe, its matching zucchetto and his large, silver crucifix which weighed down comfortably around his neck.

At the end of the corridor was his private chapel, a room in which he took morning mass alone. The chapel was dressed in cardinal red from the velvet curtains to the patterned, Italian rug on the floor. The red was contrasted by a white and gold alter adorned with roses and cream candles that flickered when lit. Frankincense coated the room with its earthy, sweet notes. A white Jesus on a dark wooden cross hung from the wall above the alter, his face tired and weary. Pope James knelt before the Son of God.

O Lord, I come to you to praise you on this great early morning as the sun begins to rise…

As he gave his silent thanks, he found his mind wandering to Sister Celia. Images of her tanned skin and soft, brown eyes bubbled to the surface of his memory and he shook his head quickly as if to burst them.

Give me guidance to lead and to inspire, give me strength to overcome the trials…

Her smile pierced his concentration. Her lips distracted his focus as thoughts of her continued to inundate him.

In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Pope James opened his eyes and looked to his left where the life-sized statue of the Virgin Mary and her baby stood, watching over him with an expression of love and purity. He averted his eyes out of shame, as if she was real and could read his thoughts.

.....

The meeting to discuss the discovery was scheduled for 9am. Pope James walked through the arches of the Papal apartment halls. The blue and gold painted ceiling reflected onto the polished marble floor which was so clean it appeared as if a thin layer of water ran across it. Father John, his butler, followed a footstep behind.

“Are you concerned, Pope James?” asked Father John.

“Not in the slightest.” Pope James kept his eyes fixed ahead of him as they spoke.

“A lot of the world leaders are,” Father John pushed. “They’re nervous about the potential for chaos and instability.”

Pope James stopped.

“And are you, Father John, suggesting that I too should be worried about the potential implausibility of our God?”

Father John didn’t shy away from this test of authority.

“No. My faith is stronger than ever as I’m sure yours is too. But I’ve never seen rational world leaders behaving as senselessly as they are now. Some major cities in the USA have been shut down to counteract a potential increase in public violence. That in itself is concerning.”

“A lot of those leaders should be rejoicing, shouldn’t they? Isn’t this what they’ve always wanted?”

Pope James offered no more thoughts and they continued walking in silence.

Father John had a point. Uncertainty, often accompanied by fear, was spreading through the masses like an unmanageable viral outbreak, and not just in the USA. The data of the research wasn’t public knowledge but rumours were already placing a strain on the population’s peace of mind.