Chapter 51 what we left behind

Emptiness has no substance.But when the Archmage is gone, I swear I can feel the emptiness, especially on Sundays.I used to take the train from New York to see him on Sundays.Gradually, I filled that void with activities near my house, visiting Pastor Henry and the church on Zumber Avenue.I also gradually became acquainted with the members of Henry's parish.I love hearing him preach.While I was becoming more and more comfortable with my faith, Henry laughed and made me the first full-fledged rabbi of the diocese.I went to homeless evenings and wrote more about them.Many people were touched.Someone sent money for five dollars, ten dollars.A man drove an hour down Michigan Highway, walked into the church, looked around, seemed too excited for words, handed out a check for a thousand dollars, and left.

Henry opened a repair account at the bank.Volunteers come to help distribute food.One Sunday, a large suburban church, the Northville Christian Assembly, invited Henry to speak.I watched along with me.He wears a black robe and a wireless microphone.As he reads, selected passages appear on two huge television screens.The lighting was perfect, the ceiling was solid and dry, the acoustics were at concert level, there was even a huge grand piano on stage, and the audience was almost entirely white, middle-class.But Henry being Henry, it wasn't long before he was going around urging his audience to earn interest on their talent, as Jesus had encouraged them to do with a parable.Don't be afraid to come to his church in Detroit and use their talents there, he said.If you're looking for a miracle God created with life, he said: You have one right in front of you.

After he finished speaking, everyone stood up and applauded.Henry took a step back and bowed his head humbly. I thought of his dilapidated church downtown.I realized that, in a sense, everyone has a hole in their roof through which tears fall and bad things pour in like a gust of wind.We feel vulnerable; we worry about the next storm that will hit us with unknown dimensions. But seeing Henry's performance that day, seeing him accept so many new faces applauding him, I believe, as the Archmage told me once, that with a little faith, the problem can be improved, the situation will really change, because In that moment, it is impossible for you to believe anything else.

So, even though it's cold as I write this, and snow is piling up on the blue tarp that covers the church roof, we'll patch that hole when the weather warms up and the weather always warms up.Someday, I'll tell Henry that.We'll patch that hole.We'll shake the generosity tree, shake down the big fund, replace that roof.We can do it because it has to be done.We can do it because it's the right thing to do. And we have to, because there was a little girl in the congregation who was born prematurely and weighed only a few pounds. The doctor said she might not survive, but she survived the prayers of her parents.Now she's a feisty little meatball with a smile that could lure cookies out of a cookie jar.She was at church almost every night.She bounced from table to table among the homeless, letting her head be rubbed to amuse her.She doesn't have a lot of toys, and she doesn't have an intensive after school/activities schedule, but she definitely has a community, a loving place to live, and a home.

Her father was a one-legged man named Cass, and her mother, an ex-drug addict, was named Marlene.Their wedding was held in the Brotherhood Church; the officiant was Henry.Reverend Covington. A year after their wedding, their precious little daughter came into the world.Now she's running around like she's in God's private playground. She got a good name, called Miracle (Miracle). The human mind is truly amazing. I used to think about why the Archmage asked me to write the sacrificial text.I suspect that he thinks far more about me than himself.As a result, he beat me after a few minutes.

The choir leader is about to say his last prayers.At this time, Long En, the Grand Master's grandson, inserted a tape into the tape recorder on the pulpit.At one time often echoed Oberth.The loudspeaker equipment of Louis's wise words came out again. Dear friends, this is your former rabbi speaking He recorded a passage that was played after his death.He told this only to Tira, his shopping buddies and home care workers.Yutila gives the tape to his family.In the short recording, the Grand Master answers two of the most frequently asked questions about him throughout his religious career.

The first question is whether he believes in God.He said he believed it. Another question is whether there is an afterlife at all.On this, he said: My answer is still yes, the world after death does exist.But, my friends, I'm sorry.Although I know now, I can't tell you. Everyone in the church roared with laughter. I haven't forgotten the file marked God.After a few months, I went back to get it alone.I take it off the shelf.I literally trembled as I held the file in my hands.For eight years I've seen it say God on the label, and after all that time, you can't help but imagine what divine puff it's going to spew.

I looked around the empty office.My stomach is aching.I wish the Archmage was with me at this moment.I opened the file. He was there. The archives contain hundreds of articles, newspaper clippings and notes from sermons, all about God.Arrow marks are drawn on it, along with questions and notes written by the Archmage.I finally understood that the purpose of my being with the Archmage and Henry is here: not to draw conclusions, but to continue to study and learn, and to take a journey of pursuing faith.You can't put God in a box.But you can collect stories, legends, wisdom, and when you get hot enough, you don't need to move the file folder to the lower shelf for easy access, because God is close to you by then.

Do you know a religious worker?Do you want to run away when you see him?If so, don't run away anymore.Sit with him for a minute, drink a glass of ice water, eat a plate of pastries, and you'll likely find some beautiful things to learn.These things won't bite you, they won't make you weak, but they just prove that there is a little sacred flame in each of us, and maybe one day, that little spark can save the world. Turning back to the church, the Archmage said at the end of the recorded message: Please love each other, talk often, and don’t let small things destroy friendship

Then he sang a simple Hebrew song, which translates to: ∮ goodbye friend, goodbye friend, goodbye, goodbye, We'll meet again, we'll meet again, bye. The congregation joined him in singing.This is the last time to sing with him. You could say it was the loudest prayer of his life. But I knew early on that he would have a song at the end.