Jay

Now it was the televangelist’s turn to jump up. His lithe, graceful manner suggested tennis and golf. He swung his suit jacket over his shoulder and spoke in a booming yet polished voice. "My colleague here thinks I’m a phony too," he began, to soft chuckles, "but I take no offense at that. Now I’ve served the Lord Jesus Christ for a long time. I’ve studied his Gospels since I was a teenager. I’ve lived with Jesus and I’ve obeyed Jesus. And friend, I’m sorry. I just don’t think you’re him!" And he sat as smoothly as he had risen, draping the jacket over a chair and looking to the door.

The mysterious stranger seemed not at all disturbed by this outburst. His eyes twinkled warmly, looking at each of the assemblage as though at his dearest friends. A faint smile of amusement played on his lips. And after a long, deep silence he said, "But what if I am?"

Again they fell into silence, but this was more comfortable. Deep slow breaths were heard. Then Mary Jennings spoke. "Sir, how would we know? How would we know if you were really him? We’d like nothing better than to meet the Lord in person, and, you know, you seem to be a good man, a caring man...but hey! For all we know you could be an axe murderer! You might have escaped from the State Hospital down the road. Why you might even be from the IRS!"

At this they all laughed, clearing the air. Comments were made about the IRS wasting its time on a group of impoverished preachers (other than Willy Winn, of course!) and the stranger laughed too. "I have a special feeling for tax collectors," he chuckled. "Mental patients, also! Two of my specialties!"