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Date: March 18, 2012 Time: 9:30 AM Place: Chicago, IL
It had been a while since Isaiah had been requested to speak at a service. In fact, the last time he had preached the Word of God in St. Michael's Church had been before he became possessed by the angel who called himself Balthazar. The service had opened with it's traditional songs of worship, which was being led by the children's choir. The familiar music, felt welcoming and heart-warming to Isaiah. He hadn't truly realized how much he missed his old life, so the tears streaming down from his face were far from tears of happiness inspired by worship. They were tears that expressed how far he had journeyed his ignorant routine. Balthazar had changed him, possibly for the better. While many blindly followed God, Isaiah entrusted Balthazar, no matter the cost. He was a lost angel, that much was certain, but he had chosen him. Perhaps, that in itself, was God's sign that Isaiah had been chosen for a higher purpose. That this son of God needed him.
Too soon the music ended, and the current pastor of the church formally introduced the all ready recognized Isaiah Freely. Rising from his seat in the front row, Isaiah straightened his tie and took his spot on the stage, gradually settling onto the wooden stool. ”Thank you, Mark! Good Morning, St. Michael's! Long time no see!” He greeted with a cheery wave. ”I suppose it really has been too long, hasn't it? For those of you who missed my name, I'm Isaiah.” Clearing his throat nervously, Isaiah shot a silent prayer to his currently quiet inhabitant: Balthazar, please don't do anything to embarrass me...”We're gathered here today,"*God, you couldn't come up with anything more original?! Smite me, someone, please!*"because we all have one thing in common. We are all"*Twits.*"brothers and sisters in faith. Which is what I want to talk about. Faith. I am sure you have all wondered about"*Homosexuality...*"faith, or doubted that you had it, or longed to have more. I'm sure that some of you in here are experiencing doubt, or are only here because your wife dragged you along. Yet, very few things are more important than your belief in Christ Jesus.”
Pausing, Isaiah pretended to look over the congregation as he waited for his alter-ego to collect itself. ”I'm sure you have all heard the story of the fisherman Peter, who saw by faith, that he could actually walk on water. He made the commitment to put both his feet over the rim of the boat. Putting both feet into your faith makes all the difference. For it is unbelief that keeps you inside the boat. It restricts your experience with God to the extreme. Doubt will take one step out of the boat, and force you to keep one foot in. To live by faith, means that you can completely step out of the boat. Faith doesn't necessarily know where it's going, but it does know Who's leading.”
Smiling genuinely, Isaiah was feeling pretty good about his rusty sermon. So far, his worst nightmare hadn't presented himself. Balthazar was being unusually well behaved (knock on wood). ”So, with no further adieu... Let us watch those of our congregation who were ready to jump into a life led by faith in last weeks baptism.” Isaiah stated, lifting his hand to signal the tech booth to roll the tape, before stepping off the page as the videos of baptism blurred past. After they ended, Isaiah walked on the floor to the center of the stage applauding with the rest of the congregation. ”I believe we're out of time for the day...” He began to close, perching himself upon the stage.
”Won't you join me in a closing prayer?” Isaiah requested humbly, bowing his head, completely unprepared for the train-wreck which was about to occur next. Balthazar sneakily made his presence known, a sarcastic smile in place of Isaiah's genuine one. ”Our father, who farts in Heaven... We humbly ask you to give us that train set we asked for last year for Christmas, and a Barbie, and the numbers to the next winning lottery ticket. Getting laid would be nice once in a while, so if you wouldn't mind, could you smite my wife for dragging me to church instead of a whorehouse? Also, smite this entire goddamn building for being built in MICHAEL'S image. Seriously, do you even know how ugly he is?! If you did, you would have chosen a different saint. Oh, say Saint Peter, for reference. He was a good looking lad.... Although Lucifer was much more fun. We should name this place Saint Lucifer's, Amen!”
Eyes wide in horror, Isaiah cursed the angel within him. ”April Fools, guys! Some guy in the back – Dared – Uh …” Isaiah laughed nervously, waved, and then dashed into the kitchen, which was conjoined with the sanctuary, where he tucked himself away to hide. ”Balthazar?!” He hissed. *Sorry! I got bored!* Scowling, Isaiah pinched the bridge of his nose and paced through the kitchen. ”Just like a child!” He rebuked, his voice barely a whisper.