Father Michael and Father John:

It had become increasingly apparent that Bishop Okeke was disillusioned with Father John, calling him what was akin to an abettor of thieves.

“ I know that by now all are suspicious of me and my motives”. He had explained to his mentor.  “ I never intended to bring all this controversy to the churches door.  My hand was forced, father, not a physical force mind you; rather, my conscience was constrained into activity.”

  He went on to explain that after having met the boys at a local youth chapter for catholic action youths he was determined to befriend them, all the while under the belief that there lurked future priests.

“Truly, you could have not believed all that?” Father Michael interjected,            ” “I mean, it sounds rather naive you’re more likely to…”

He interrupted Father Michael, “ No, no”  he exclaimed passionately “ No, no, as I understood their plight more and more, I could no longer condemn their activities out rightly.  If a man steals, to feed his children, surely God must understand circumstances as these?”

“Father John,” Father Michael retorted “These boys are not married nor do they have children.  The money that they steal is not for some altruistic motive.  They are terrorizing innocent citizens, making life miserable for all”.

Father John looked at him with a hurt look feeling thoroughly misunderstood...

“Father, I beg to differ.  What of the injustice of the state which has disenfranchised them? A state which has totally failed them in every regard both fiscally and spiritually?”

Father Michael shook his head solemnly, “You have a duty father, a duty to tell them, tell them to direct their energies against the true enemy.  Tell the armed bandits to stop their fight against the innocent.  Rather instruct them to seek out the perpetrators of injustice wherever they may be or under whichever cloak they hide.”

“I have tried, to I have tried to tell them all this that sometimes justice must be sought for sometimes pleaded for but we must never cease to seek it.  How far away I have often thought it is”.  With a far off look in his eyes he continued:

 “Sometimes, seemingly, unattainable.  But for the Bishop to accuse me of being an abettor to thieves?”

“If he knew that you were a confessor to a  band of secessionists do you think this would appear more honorable?”

Father John laughed,” In places like here, honor becomes a figment of the imagination, an unreal chalice whose drought we drink yet never become drunk from..  For truly, we are imprisoned, in every imaginable way.”   

“We are imprisoned, in our minds, which are allowed no freedom of thought or aspiration; imprisoned physically in our homes behind bars and high walls.  Darkness brings regular terror for the knocking at night.”

“Yet we believe ourselves to be free…  Free to do what Father?

  When there is nothing for us to do.  Free to hope for what?”

“When, experience has shown us, that here things only get worse, and death comes to many as a welcome relief, or only too prematurely.”

“We preach a spiritual freedom, but if our brothers are in chains can we ignore the physical chains that prevent them from seeking God?”

And he continued his soliloquy:

“Is it not just that, we must seek You, heavenly Father in all, in everything; even here in this place where our people cry out for the basic necessities of life “

Father Michael said nothing.  It was abundantly clear that perhaps arguing over the foregoing was futile.  There was something in the tone of father John’s voice which betrayed an urgency, some unseen force driving him along his way.  It was clear he would follow this situation until it consumed him, the youths or both.

  In his zeal for the Gospel of Christ, he felt like he was laying down his life for his master, in a most unique way.  Indeed each day he felt as if God had singled him out for this purpose from the day of his conception in his mothers own womb.  Only, then when he had lost her prematurely, there was little left to hold him to this life.  For him, reality was on the other side of the curtain of life, where a more real life awaited him in the shadows of death.  In this way he lived defiant of death, and he moved freely in the land of the living without the restraints of those that hold onto life dearly.  No risk was too great or journey too perilous, for if he died he gained heaven.  Perhaps it was this fearlessness of this world that formed the bond between him and the youths.

He had proclaimed in prayer:

“Let me live Lord, as if I am already dead, and in your arms.  Only that can make this life palatable for me.  Then it is tolerable to live, knowing I am already with you and then death can make little difference.  For if we must wait until death to see your face, then those who have seen you can only be described as dead, dead to this life so like the great apostle Paul we can be alive to you