Adam catches my eye as he helps some of the children offstage at the end of their number. He treats them with a warmth I didn’t think possible, smiling pleasantly and patting some of them on the back as they toddle away. He’s good with children—the thought strikes me like an odd flash, heat lightning on a summer afternoon.
Once the children are settled in the rows behind us, the Prophet walks onto the stage and delivers his Christmas sermon once the applause dies down.
“We are here to give thanks to our Lord and Savior, to praise Him and celebrate the day of His birth.”
“Amen” rockets around the sanctuary.
“We are also here to plan for our bright future, just as Mary and Joseph did for their little baby in swaddling clothes. Though they had nothing but a child and gifts from the wise men, they were able to raise the son of God. We have so much more.” He raises his hands. “We have each other. We have the strength of our beliefs. And we have the conviction to see God’s plan through to the end.”
Adam keeps his gaze on mine. I can feel it even when I have to drop my eyes lest anyone notice I’m not the demure Maiden I’m supposed to be.
“Many of you have already applied for housing in Monroeville. The houses are going up even faster than I anticipated, and the Lord is pleased. In addition to the housing, we’re clearing land, tilling fields, creating farmland, and purifying water from the Lockahatchee River that runs through the compound.” His voice rises, crowned by notes of triumph. “By the end of next year, Heavenly will be completely self-sufficient.”
The crowd erupts, each lost soul clamoring for the love and safety promised by the charlatan on stage.
“Each of you will make this possible. And God smiles on you for doing it. Here, we will be safe from the coming wars, from the sodomites and the multitude of demons that run this fallen world. We will arm ourselves to defend against those who would seek to destroy us. They are Legion, my friends. Sinners, adulterers, murderers, rapists, liberals, feminists, politicians, Catholics, Jews, Muslims—any and all who deny the divinity of Christ, who would deny the teachings of the Bible—apostates! And they will not stop until all of God’s blessed creation is a smoking ruin.” The fervor from his voice spills into the worshippers behind me, ramping up the wild energy to dangerous heights. “But we will beat them. With God on our side, we are guaranteed to triumph over evil. Together, we will create a new Eden, where we will work to please God and no one else. We will have no other masters. We are chosen. We are God’s most precious children. You—” He points to the crowd “—are the jewels in the crown atop Jesus’ head.”
The floor shakes beneath me as the Heavenly audience jumps to their feet and gives the Prophet a standing ovation. Adam scowls, his arms folded in front of him. Noah stands just behind him, his gaze fixed on the Prophet as he applauds along with everyone else. I didn’t realize it, but Noah is a true believer. I’d assumed he was like Adam, jaded and wise. I was wrong.
When the fervor settles down, the Prophet continues, “But there must be sacrifice, my friends. We must all give something to the Lord. We must all be more godly.” His voice softens, curtailing the fever pitch and pulling the audience in closer. “Tithing is important. And I can easily say I’m proud of how our Heavenly family gives to keep this ministry going. But we must give more. Monetarily, and in other avenues. How many of you have your children in the fallen public schools or worse, the supposedly ‘Christian’ schools that are nothing more than breeding grounds for sin?”
The crowd remains utterly silent.
“I’m here to tell you right now that Heavenly schools are the path for your children’s salvation. You must enroll them now, before it’s too late.”
Agreement rumbles behind me.
“And women, your men are sacrificing their head of the household income, but what are you giving? Are you in perfect obedience? Perhaps you think you are, but look down right now. All of you, look down. Can you see your bare legs? If you can, I’m here to tell you that you are not in perfect obedience. Are you wearing pants that leave nothing to the imagination? If you are, I’m here to tell you that you are not in perfect obedience. Are you showing your body to men other than your husband? If you are—” he shakes his head and tsks “—I can assure you that you are not in perfect obedience. Women are sacred treasures and should be treated as such. But how can men treat you as godly when you dress like common prostitutes? When you do everything you can to inflame their lust?” He drops to one knee, as if he’s proposing to all the women in the audience. “I humbly ask you now, as your Prophet, to sacrifice your vanity. To be pure and holy for your husbands. And even if you aren’t wed, to dress as a woman of worth, not of a worldly harlot. These are the small sacrifices the Lord requires of you.” He casts his gaze heavenward. “Do you think you can do these things, for Him?”