Zenith in Love (Zenith Series #5) - Leanne Davis Page 0,78
the items God wanted so that person had to donate whatever he requested in order to save their soul… You can’t imagine all the things he stole from those trusting people that way. But since they simply gave him their belongings and cash, it wasn’t technically stealing.”
“It was most definitely stealing in the most heinous way. As a child, knowing it was fake, you must have been so scared to see your father doing that. You were just a little boy.”
He nodded, pressing his lips together. “He did scare me most of the time. Which was why I always ran into the fields or woods.”
“Prior to meeting the Zavarians, did you have any exposure to other religions or people of faith who didn’t worship a false messenger? You know, faith without the stealing, manipulation, demagoguery, rapes and orgies?”
“No. I just related the names of God, faith, and Jesus with a distorted and warped sense of reality. He did that to people’s minds. The stuff I listened to was pretty powerful. I’ll give Jimmy that, and it’s where I learned how to speak to crowds and convey my message. He was fabulous. So much better than me. He could make you believe an ocean existed in Wyoming. Today. Right now. It scares me to know that I share that gift with him.”
She touched his hand. “It’s a gift you should celebrate and be grateful for. Maybe it came from a tarnished source, but you use it for good purposes.”
“What if I lose my way? Become the monster I witnessed as a child? It happens, you know. It’s part of why I try so hard to be a role model and do good things.”
Her breath hitched. “You… oh, Jim, you are a good person. Inherently good. Having sex with me doesn’t change that. Neither does any of the other behavior you call so evil.”
“What if it’s a bridge to something evil? I let my guard down by drinking and engaging in premarital sex and later accept not being so righteous and decent? I know how to use the same gift my biological father shares with me and turn it around. Evil is always in the periphery for me. I choose to do the same thing my father faked. What if I’m just faking it too? What if I’m no better or different? What if I’m really just like him? Am I justifying my powers of persuasion by taking a different approach?”
“You’re not at all. I’ve listened to you. Kathy adores you and she would never support you if she detected the slightest hint of falsity in your belief system. Come on. Kathy could never fall for your sermons if they weren’t legitimate and you didn’t speak the truth. Right?”
He let a small smile touch his lips. “I might agree with that.”
“You better agree,” she insisted. No doubts with Kayla. “How did you finally know that decent religions and divine messages do exist?”
“The Zavarians’ pastor. I listened to him. He spoke so simply and sweet and nice that I enjoyed his sermons. Saying prayers for others and asking for light and God’s blessings for several sick church members. It was so raw in its beauty and so profound to me. When the collection tray came around, I expected to hear the obscene call for more money, but none came. Some stuck their donations in envelopes, or folded-up checks. I never knew how much they gave. Some people threw in cash: twenties, tens, fives and even one dollar bills. There was some change in it too. I remember seeing how paltry the tray was. It wasn’t as full as Jimmy’s was, but to me it was the first real wealth because it came from decent donors. Does that make any sense?”
“One thousand percent.” Bombs were exploding inside her head. His choice to become a pastor, for one. Now she saw the roots of it. His need to lead the congregation and the significance of his words to reflect decency, generosity and gratitude. He gave the blessing. Materialism, greed, and selfishness were the subjects of ire in his messages. His books were his oldest companions. His lack of emotional connection extended to almost everyone, including Kathy.
His strange reaction to having sex. Oh, crap, now it made some sense.
“I was never in a situation where the Zavarians treated me like their son. They were more like nice employers. But I had no medical insurance and no last name. They were the ones who got my name