Day 49: Bleak Sunset

The Prompt:  The pastor comes into church and finds the place ransacked.  What happens?

"Olivia, I'm going to be leaving for the church now!"  Pastor Reynolds called as he tied his shoes.

His wife walked over by the front door.  "Isn't it a little early?"

"I wanted to rehearse at the pulpit today.  I seem to be...restless here.  I can't concentrate."

Olivia looked hurt until he quickly added.  "It's nothing you did.  I just a need a place where all my lacking responsibilities around the house aren't haunting me."

"But if they don't haunt you, you'll never get them done," she smiled.  "I understand.  I'll meet you there in another hour."

"Alright, honey."  Pastor Reynolds tied his other shoe and gave his wife a kiss.  "I love you."

"I love you too!"

The pastor lived about fifteen minutes away from the church, making it quite convenient to travel back and forth whenever he needed.  The sun was already beginning to set over the rolling hills of red and yellow colored maple trees.  In another couple of weeks, he would need to get his rake.

The church parking lot was empty, and Pastor Reynolds parked in his normal spot at the edge of the spaces.  He saved the spots nearest the church for his elderly members who couldn't walk very far anymore.  Besides, a little extra exercise couldn't hurt his stomach.  Pastor stepped out of his silver car and walked to the front doors.  He whistled a hymn they would be singing that evening while he unlocked the doors.  His whistling stopped abruptly after the doors swung open.

Pews were overturned.  Hymnals were scattered all over the floor.  The pulpit was lying on its side.  Colored shards of glass from a couple of stain-glassed windows were sprinkled around the feet of the old organ.  Curtains were ripped.  The wooden cross on the wall at the front of the church was crooked.  On an adjacent wall, bitter words were spray-painted in green, along with what looked like a two-headed snake.  Then Pastor Reynolds noticed a few silver and gold decorations, such as a pair of candlesticks and one of the utensils used for communion, were missing. 

Crestfallen and a bit fearful, Pastor Reynolds carefully stepped over the broken pieces of an angel statue and walked to his office.  The doorknob was broken, and the lock had been jimmied.  His office shared a similar fate to the church, with overturned furniture, strewn books, broken windows, and spray paint.  He checked his desk drawer, and sure enough, his cash box with the tithe money from Sunday's services was missing.  He had intended to take it to the bank after services, but he was tired and postponed it until after today's services.

"Dear Lord," he prayed aloud as he ambled through the chaotic rooms, "I don't know how someone could damage Your house.  I'm so sorry You have to see this.  I'm sure if breaks Your heart much more than it breaks mine.  I pray for the souls who did this.  They must be in some serious trouble.  Please forgive them, and please forgive me for not being a good steward with the tithe money.  The congregation gave generously and I lost their precious gift.  I can never get that back.  Help me be able to at least get the main part of the church cleaned up in time for service tonight."

By this time, he was sitting on a front pew with his head rested heavily in his hands.  He stayed this way for a few minutes and was risen out of it when he heard a cry from the front doors.  He looked up and saw Becky, the worship leader for that night, standing horrified.

"What happened, Pastor Reynolds?!"  Without waiting for a response, she continued, "Vandals!  Thieves!  How could they?!  Oh, I'm so sorry, Pastor Reynolds."  She walked over to him.  "Did you call the police?"

"No," he answered quietly.  "I didn't think about that."

"We have to!  We have to find out who did this."

"But what about tonight's service?  I don't want to cancel it."

"We're going to have to.  There's no way we can get this cleaned up in time, and the police might need us to preserve the crime scene for evidence."

"You're right," he sighed.  "Maybe I can have some of the members over at my house.  I'll give Olivia a call."

While he did that, Becky called the police then her husband Todd and told both happened.

The police arrived in about five minutes and started interviewing the pastor and taking pictures.

"Can you think of anyone that would want to do this?  An angry church member?"

"No, officer.  Everyone is so friendly in this town.  This sort of thing never happens."

"What about any suspicious behavior?"

"Well," he thought aloud.  "A couple of weeks ago, our lights went out for a few minutes.  Jim- he's an electrician who attends- Jim checked the fuse box and said they shouldn't have gone out.  He couldn't figure out what caused it.  I think he suspected it was deliberate."

The policeman wrote this down.  A fellow female officer interrupted him.  "I asked the homeowners and businessmen around the area if they heard anything peculiar today, and the owner of the gas station store said he noticed a red car zoom away from around this area about an hour ago.  He didn't think much of it at the time.  He noticed the license plate though.  He said it started with 'XG7.' "

Do you remember this story?  I told you they'd be back.  Look back at "XG7."  There's still more to come.