Easter was approaching, and so was Father Larry Jacks.
“Uh oh,” says Wally Hudson, Al-Wahlid, as he pushes back his chair, the breakfast table clears in a hurry. Soon its only me and Father Larry, a devout Christian horse-rancher from Montana. He was wearing his only outfit. Every day, the same washed-out, yellow knit shirt. That same pair of khaki shorts, with his bony, pale legs ending in black socks and brown leather sandals.
Everybody avoided Father Larry, like a Biblical plague. He was a nice enough, decent man, but the faith was his only topic. Early on I had answered “yes,” when Larry asked if I was saved? Big mistake. Father Larry has me down as a brother now, and I don’t have the heart to hurt his feelings now.
“Stephen ,” this is in a stage whisper. We’re all alone in this immense hotel dining room, and Father Larry is whispering to me… “we’ve formed a group to conduct a secret Easter service, I knew you’d be interest.”
The Saudi’s do not permit the possession of holy books of any faith other than Islam, no Bibles, no crosses, no nothing. You would be unable to buy a cross, or to wear one in Saudi Arabia. Very tolerant people, the Saudi’s.
Apparently, Larry is a member of a Christian cabal, which meets secretly in different hotels, or homes, every Sunday. They intend to celebrate an Easter service, which is punishable by Allah knows what, if the Matawah get wind of it. My memories go back to a gentleman on his knees, facing his executioner. Saudi prisons are not fun, either. It could be weeks or months before anybody actually finds out that you are in a Saudi Jail. Prisoners cannot bathe, and are not fed. If nobody you know brings you food to the prison, you do not eat.
I try to express these concerns to Father Larry, but he’s not listening to me… he hears a higher voice. His demeanor reminds me of an old time
Victor Mature movie I once saw. As the Christians were being fed to the lions, one devout Christian drops to his knees, a beatific calm reflected in his face. He is going to meet Jesus, dying gladly for his faith. This is the radiance glowing now in Father Larry.
“Come meet and pray with us, Steve… it’s Easter and the Lord has risen.”
No thanks, Larry,” I say as I push away from the table. But do say a prayer for me.” I leave the room.