Epilogue 1: On the Links with Luke the Hun
“Sow to yourselves in righteousness, reap in mercy; break up your fallow ground: for it is time to seek the Lord, till he come and rain righteousness upon you.” Hosea 10:12
It was almost a year later. Fall had fallen, as it is wont to do. Four crafty cats were playing golf on the new golf course, Hun-countryView. The fearsome foursome consisted of Luke the Hun, Chief Otis (retired), Bertralamus Jefferson Loreword, and the Pope of the Whole World. It was a good day for it.
Luke was quite pleased with himself: he had picked up the new game quickly, and was slightly under par for the round. “Gotta treat that ball like a little child,” Luke explained helpfully to the others: “Treat it with gentleness, patience and thoughtfulness most of the time... But sometimes you just gotta give it a good swat!” he boasted, as he ripped another fine tee shot.
“Speaking of children--when’s your wife due, by the way?” the Pope wondered.
“Couple more months. I’ve never seen her so happy, and that’s saying something!” Luke mused. Then he grew silent as the Pope readied to swing. Crack, watch that ball fly, children! Right in the cup. Amen. Luke hung his head, humbled. He looked at the Pope suspiciously. Sure, he wasn’t doing it every time, but still... it seemed like the guy was scoring an inordinate number of holes-in-one.
The Pope was the only player ahead of Luke on the score sheet, however. Chief Otis only ever got as far as the tee shot. He would stroll up to the ball, practice swinging harder and harder, and then take his best cut, sending another rocket into the woods. Luke had tried to help a little, reminding his dad with Tom’s advice, “Think Where, not How Far.”
His dad had responded mockingly, whispershouting yet a third question instead: “Why?”
Luke dutifully tried to answer, though he had never had much success at changing his father’s habits. (Thank goodness for Tom, and then Shadrach!) “Why? Because you’re in the woods again, dad.”
“Nope. Cleared ‘em. Over the woods, and over the meadows. Over the hills, and over the lakes. You know how far that ball went son? Hm? Hm? Do ya?”
His Dad always made him say it. Resignedly: “All the way to Penetanguishene?” A big grin and a clap on the back.
Meanwhile, Bert would usually drop a strong drive down the middle of the fairway, and maybe a nice second shot, but sooner or later he always got bored waiting for Luke and the Pope to line up their shots, and would take a run at one of them (‘Usually me,’ Luke observed), announcing “Full contact!” and delivering a hip-check. After that, it was game on again for Chief Otis, who, with his own ball lost, would rush to the fray and start jostling with Bert over who would play Bert’s ball. The two of them would then race to the green interspersing shoves and elbows with choppy fifty-yard dribblers, until somehow the ball finally got tapped or kicked or thrown into the cup. In a bizarre form of match play, whoever touched the ball last won the hole. (“I love this game!”)
Replacing the divots on the green, Luke finished up that hole and talked more with the Pope while Bert and Otis wrestled on the next tee.
“So Shadrach is working out pretty well then?” asked the Pope of the Whole World. “I’ve heard good things. Certainly I’m pleased with the way the Church has grown.”
“Sending him was a stroke of genius, your Holiness. Couldn’t have asked for a better priest. Maybe it’s because he himself was in such fear of the wrath of God for so long; he sure knows how to put the fear of God into the Huns anyway! A real fire and brimstone preacher. A throwback. He connects with them. Wrath and power we get.”
Overhearing them, as Luke and the Pope walked up to the tee, Bert chipped in, “Yep, that’s what I needed too! Luke here was always asking me questions, giving me hints, trying to get me to reconsider. But Shadrach hit me right between the eyes with it. Stopped me cold. Reminded me that I‘d known the truth all along: ‘This is it! God is the Lord, whether you like it or not! Better get ta praising, or get ta running, take your pick!’ Simple stuff like that, even I can understand!”
(“You’re an honorary Hun, my boy,” Chief Otis complimented him.)
The Pope demurred. “Stroke of genius? Actually, I had no idea it would turn out this well. But God knew. That’s what matters. Shadrach just happened to present himself at the right time, bearing an enormous ruby, and asking the forgiveness of the Church and the chance to serve again. So I sent him up here. I heard you guys were trying to get a congregation going, and thought you might need a hand. And it’s not like I was getting swarmed with volunteers for a posting in Hun-Country! Even Shadrach thought it was a punishment, the just consequence for his misdeeds. Well, let him think that. He’s a penitent fellow. If he wants to ‘make up for lost time’, so much the better. As long as he keeps making new believers out of these people, I suppose it’s a helpful attitude, isn’t it?”
“The ruby was helpful too,” Luke pointed out. “Not many people would take a chance on sending a treasure like that up to Hun-Country! But it really helped us get the Church off the ground. Up until then we were just holding meetings in the cellar of my Chief’s tent. But the ruby allowed us to commission the building of a proper Cathedral. Not that it’s necessary--we faithful would have held our services outdoors in the rain and the hail if we had to,” he added quickly, suddenly feeling a little awkward for trying to justify the splendid Cathedral to the same Pope who had sold his own to aid the poor! Then Luke remembered a comforting verse: “And those members of the body, which we think to be less honourable, upon those we bestow more abundant honour; and our uncomely parts have more abundant comeliness.” Surely if ‘less honourable’ applied to anybody, it would be the Huns! So Luke grinned, breathed easier, and went on. “But the Cathedral helped attract some attention. Got some people in the door for Shadrach to go to work on! Not only that, but I think even the building itself helped change their thinking, prepare their hearts if you will. Created the roots of reverence, the first stirrings of awe and respect--so foreign to Huns, yet so necessary to worship God! Besides, seeing how stained glass could be as beautiful as jewels and such, well that kinda nullified our purpose for raiding and stealing everyone’s treasure! How much more rewarding to create your own treasures! The builders wound up teaching their trades to several of our Huns, too, using some of them as apprentices to speed the work. Helped usher in what I hope is a new era of industry here in Hun-Country: people finding real jobs, learning new skills, doing worthwhile things, trying to build the place up into a better nation for our children!”
“Who built it for you? It went up pretty fast,” remarked the Pope, who had seen the impressive new St. Sheryl’s Cathedral.
“There was tons of surplus labor, with our soldiers not soldiering. But the master builders? Coupla guys I knew, actually. An artist named Jean-L’ did all the art, architecture, landscaping and stained glass, and my man Jonnathinn Halley did all the masonry and stonework, carpentry, plumbing, roofing, and what-have-you. Master of All Trades, Jack of None, is how he bills himself. Handy fellow to have around, let me tell ya!”
“They’re still around then?” the Pope asked curiously. Then dodged as an impatient Chief Otis took a run at him, forcing the Pope to hurry his second shot. Bert might shy away from hitting the Pope, but Chief Otis would hit anybody. (In the same vein, Luke and Shadrach remembered to use the proper form of address, ‘Your Holiness’, while Bert called him ‘Your Popeness’, and Otis just called him ‘Guy’.)
Once the danger was safely past, Luke answered the question. “No. Since you bring it up, they went on to Penetanguishene, actually, to build another cathedral there.”
“Penetanguishene...” the Pope turned the name over slowly and thoughtfully. “I heard a rumor about that place actually. Something to the effect of Hun-Country fighting a war against them! That’s part of why I came up: to make sure that you’re teaching the full gospel here. Fighting wars doesn’t sound very Christ-like.”
Luke looked a little sheepish, but defended hims
elf. “We were careful to follow all the points in the ‘Just War Theory’, for what that’s worth. True, ‘No War’ is better than ‘Just War’, but maybe that’s what we’re working up to?” Luke ventured optimistically. Then he recalled, “On the other hand, when the Huns found out we could justify a defensive war, I think most of them immediately asked themselves the question ‘How can we get more nations to attack us?’ I had a peculiar rush of volunteers joining up to be Diplomats! Didn’t think much of it at the time, but I’ve started to hear some rumblings from abroad, some rumors of stepped-on toes and offended kings. I’ve started to wonder what kind of diplomacy they’ve been practicing!”
“Work on that,” the Pope advised, foreseeing future problems.
“We will,” Luke promised. Then he explained, “Still, these are Huns. It might have been a stretch to expect them to quit cold turkey. I think in a way we’re lucky Penetanguishene attacked us. By early summer most of my people’s palms were already itching to hold weapons. If not for the King of Penetanguishene’s miscalculation, I’m pretty sure they would have used them against me!” Luke hit a nice chip shot onto the green, and walked quickly to his tap-in putt, before adding, “Not that I’m afraid of being a martyr; if I was I would never have come back here! I wouldn’t want it for Jenny of course. But you know what she said to me? ‘Where you go, I will go.’ Completely heedless of the perils! Love, love,” Luke reminded himself, happily. “She said ‘We ought to work to build God’s kingdom, whatever may happen. If He sees fit to protect us while we’re doing it, we’ll thank Him for that. But if He sees fit to let us in early, we’ll thank Him for that too.’ Faith and courage! She’s a better bowler than I am, a better farmer than I am, a better chocolate-milk drinker, and she’s braver than me, too!” Luke announced admiringly.
“Jenny’s an honorary Hun too,” Chief Otis proclaimed beneficently, as he waited politely for Luke and the Pope to tee off again, before resuming his full-contact golf match with Bert. Those two had a lot in common, and had really hit it off. (Quite literally, punchpunchpunch.)
“Tell me more about Penetanguishene. What happened, exactly?”
Luke was embarrassed. “We didn’t start that. We were taking a year off, trying agriculture instead of raiding. Jenny’s farming background was a huge help, and my Master’s in Agriculture didn’t hurt either. Of course I should thank God for the good weather too! Things were going well, until... They took us a little bit by surprise. Huns never expect to get attacked! (Most people know better!) But I should have known something would happen, after I went there preaching peace.” Luke was still kicking himself for not foreseeing the attack. “But I think we took them even more by surprise! Not only did they discover that we hadn’t gone soft, but they probably thought the Hun men would be out raiding. Instead they found everybody, men, women and children, home and idle, all just spoiling for a fight! (That was earlier in our ministry, before so many had been saved--not that even Christian Huns don’t still like to rough it up a bit,)” Luke added, apologizing for his father. “Anyway, the ‘unbreakable phalanxes’ of Penetanguishene were routed like rag-dolls, in a defeat far worse than our own Pyrrhic victories in Peru. The occasion was even dramatic enough to prompt the change of our official rallying cry, from the aggressive ‘All the Way to Penetanguishene’, to the respectable, defensive, but equally Hun-worthy, ‘Bring it on, Clown!’ Oh, and I think they changed their motto from the menacing ‘Bones must be broken!’ to the hands-covering- heads-while-running-away, ‘Not ours! Not ours!’” Luke laughed. “In any case, it was no wonder that the Right Honorable Scrapper Jim’s successor, the Right Honorable Scrapper Tom, sued quickly for peace. I’m sure he thought that we would immediately flood forth and take vengeance upon what remained of their nation. When he found me peaceful and merciful, he was curious to know why. I took the opportunity to tell him about Jesus Christ! It was good timing I think: getting your butt handed to you does make a warrior reflect on his place in life! But also I think he saw some wondrous changes afoot in Hun-country, and wondered whether those would work in his own nation, and in his own life.”
“So he has become a believer then?”
“By now? I would say Yes. He was only leaning, when I last wrote to him. Open, interested. But I sent Jean and Jonnathinn to seal the deal. To build another Cathedral, and to personally ensure the conversion of Scrapper Tom. And if necessary, to stand in the breach and act as priests and stewards over Penetanguishene until your Holiness can send more official delegates.”
“And they can do all this alone, you think?”
“Through Christ who strengthens us. But I know of some others there too, with whom they can join. And I sent a couple of our own as well: It’s funny, but once a Hun sees the light, they swing completely around, from amoral meanness to sharp-edged zeal. Huns make some pretty fair witnesses actually. How is it written? ‘There was a certain creditor who had two debtors: the one owed five hundred pence, and the other fifty. And when they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave them both. Tell me therefore, which of them will love him most?’ Oh yes, there should be a good start to their little church already, I think.”
The Pope was pleased, but raised a practical concern: “Is Penetanguishene ready for the change, do you think? Won’t their warriors be feeling the same itch for violence next year, like what your people went through? And won’t yours be feeling it again? Until you get everyone converted--old traditions die hard. And you can’t fight each other again...”
Luke laughed and kept the ‘just-for-fun’ fights with the men of Corbeil a secret. Then he expressed a great hope once again: “So maybe they’ll have another old rival come and challenge them their first year! I have a hunch...that the mighty hordes of Peru, and old Terror-by-night himself, are going to come and break like a wave against the impregnable rock of Fort Frances. And once they are broken, do you think Scrapper Tom won’t likewise show them mercy and share with them the Gospel of Peace? Oh, I think he will. And as for the second year and beyond: hopefully by then we’ll have enough Believers to not want any more wars. And maybe we’ll be diverted enough by channeling our aggression into the other avenues I’ve devised...”
The Pope was interested. “And those would be...?”
“You haven’t heard of the new league of professional football I started?148 We’re just a few games in. But we’re undefeated, and fixin’ to stay that way! Dad’s the head coach, my brother DavidGorki helps coach the offensive line, I play quarterback, and the indefatigable Bert here does double duty, as slotback and linebacker-blitzer. D’ya know, I got the whole idea from my man Rasheed--if they can make money playing basketball, why not try it with football too? Gives the college kids something to do when they graduate. And gives us a slightly less dangerous release for our violent tendencies. Not to mention an alternate source of income! C’mon, you telling me you wouldn’t pay money to see a team of Huns pound the ball between the tackles? Crushing blocks, precision pitches, and bodies lying in their wake?” It didn’t really sound that appealing to the Pope, but he was glad to hear it was going well. “Sure,” said Luke. “And we’re negotiating to put a team into the hockey league next year, to help us get through the winter! After all, most of the other tough towns already have ’em.” Then, taking his cue from Louise and the Good Guys, Luke speculated, “Not only should that make for good competition, but maybe with all the contact, we can have an effect on those communities: soften their hearts, share the Gospel!”
“Maybe they’ll get their Cathedrals too someday,” the Pope quipped. “Which reminds me--how did you say they were financing the one being built in Penetanguishene? One ruby only goes so far. So was this your gift to them, or will the Church be getting a bill later on...?”
The Pope was asking this question just as they walked up to the eighteenth tee. There, red-faced, was Bert, clearing his throat. “Oh, your Popeness, I meant to tell ya... I too had one of those, er, borrowed rubies in my possession. I sent that one along to hel
p the work in Penetanguishene. Figured if you were willing to spend the first one to help one warlike nation go straight, you’d probably do it twice to help two.” Then he admitted, “Also, I was scared to face ya.”
“All things may be forgiven,” the Pope comforted him softly, then reproved him, “but repentance and contrition are important.”
Bert hung his head: “I sorry.” Then he perked up. “But I won’t stop at sorry--I’m trying to make it right. What was the part about Zaccheus ‘restoring fourfold all that he had stolen?’. Well, maybe I can do the same. See, the night the Pope Jewels went missing, it was quite a caper--a story in itself! Five giant gems stolen, by five different perpetrators! Shadrach the Peasant, three thieves named Sneaky Pete, Slinky Pilferfinger, and Edgar (undercover as Simonus Prayicus), and, um, me. Everyone left I.O.U’s signed S.P. (Hee hee, I am sooo sneaky...) Why the others stopped at stealing one each is a bit of a puzzle... It could have been a secret fear of God, that I can work with later. Or maybe they’re just socialists... Share and share alike? It’s not really stealing as long as you leave someone a little bit, they say.149 Guess that makes me the Bad Guy again, since I took the last one! I’m used to it. So I’m fixing to take responsibility, and track down the other three jewels for ya during the off-season, before I leave. Maybe I can bring back three more repentant thieves with them, and convince them to build three more churches in three other dens of iniquity…”
The Pope was impressed. “All things happen in God’s time. Though these treasures were taken in wickedness, they are returning in time to further the work of righteousness. ‘Cast thy bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days,’” he mused, clearly pleased by the bright future’s prospects.
“What did you mean, ‘before I leave’?” Luke asked his friend. He was upset. He glanced at Chief Otis, who looked away. The head football coach was already in on his star player’s secret.
Bert gave a trademark half-grin. “Sorry fella, I can’t stay forever. The stars await!”
Luke broke into a broad smile himself, when he realized what this meant! The Pope, however, was out of the loop. “What am I missing?” he inquired.
“Mikki…!” Luke said fondly.
Bert winked. “A friend of Luke’s, your Popeness. She arrived a few weeks ago, and, well, we’ve become best friends.” He laughed outright: “Can I help it if I’m beeyootiful-lookin’?”
Luke picked up the story, explaining to the Pope, “I met Mikki on a mountaintop in Greece. She’s from another planet...” The Pope looked startled, as though he had no idea this might be possible. “I recommended that she keep her eyes and mind open for the gospel of Jesus Christ, and I promised to make her a Bible of her very own. So here I’ve been, faithfully copying a chapter from mine, three times a day...”
“In addition to setting up sports leagues, playing professional football, cultivating the land, and oh, by the way, leading the Huns.” The Pope was clearly questioning how Luke found the time.
“The leading the Huns part is pretty easy. Mainly you just let people do their own thing. Or don’t let them,” he reflected, remembering that he had kept them from going to war. “Either or. Doesn’t take a whole lot of time, though--just a fistfight now and again to fix the boundaries!” Then he continued his tale. “All the time, I didn’t even know if Mikki would really come visit. But you can never have too many Bibles, right? If she hadn’t shown, maybe I would place one in the Cathedral, or maybe God would send me a different searcher who would take it up...”
“But He sent back Mikki!” Bert interjected, grinning. They were all playing the last hole together, dignified and composed for once. (Until they got to the green!)
“So I gave her her promised gift,” Luke went on. “Her heart was warmed and touched by the effort-- and the love--that had gone into it. Good thing for Bert I was already married, or...” He gave Bert a playful push. Chief Otis perked up for a second, thinking the game was back on, but then held it in check like a trooper when he saw they were still talking: “But then Mikki gave us back a gift...thousands of Bibles! What was that about ‘casting your bread upon the water’, your Holiness? She said she got them cheap, picked them up at a Dollar Store on a place called Earth.”
“Where there are very many Bibles, but very few people who actually read or believe them,” Bert glossed.
“She said, ‘Yeah, they have a fabulous invention there--called a Printing Press.’ I thought from her tone that she might be mocking us a little, so I shot back ‘So why don’t you bring us one of those next time!’ And then, Voila! She showed me that she already had one for us, aboard her spaceship! (Sheepishly, I noticed that we’d seen them in some of the more civilized countries we invaded, but had only ever smashed them). So I summoned some strong Huns to carry it down, and they set about learning another trade...” Luke smiled, pleased at the progress of his people. Then he smiled even brighter when he thought about Mikki’s progress! “She had already been reading the Bible, already saying her prayers--she says she thinks that in space, there is less noise to interfere with them. Says she could feel that they went right through, straight to God Himself. In any event, if she wasn’t a full-fledged believer when she got here, she was close. Just needed people to pray with her and confirm it, I think. But she already knew the truth somewhere inside.”
“Maybe we all do,” Chief Otis murmured--then looked a little embarrassed to be caught sounding wise. Yuck.
“I met Mikki almost as soon as she arrived,” Bert jumped in. “She’s hard to miss. Really attracts your attention! But we hit it off well. I used your ‘beautiful soul’ pick-up line by the way, Luke,” Bert confessed, laughing. “Then when I learned that she had visited Earth, that gave us something in common. We got to talking about that, and talked for days and nights about the rest of her travels! But I think I was most helpful to her in church. There we had a bond too: we were both new joiners. And yet, having been a church-goer once before, I had some answers to give her as well. It made for a nice combination. She thought so too! She said, ‘We make a nice pair. You should come with me when I go...’ Well who can turn down an invitation like that? From a girl like that? For a mission like that...” Bert added seriously at last, with awe and apprehension.
“So you guys are really going to do it? Be the witnesses to the stars, apostles to the planets?” Luke had really only used those terms to spark Mikki’s interest; he had had no idea it would really come about! Even thinking about all that cold space, all those dark worlds, was daunting to him.
“Like Johnny Appleseed, planting trees. Bert and Mikki Gospelseed, planting churches!”
“Quite ambitious,” the Pope complimented. “I shall pray for your ministry. Perhaps I’ll stop by the Cathedral and give Mikki a papal blessing, a special benediction...even though I’m just the Pope of this world… and you’re going to other worlds...” he finished, a little unsure if they fell under his jurisdiction.
Bert reassured him, “I think she would like that! I think it would help. We’re trying to get stronger, better prepared for our mission, over these next few months. It wasn’t just about completing my commitment and finishing the football season. She’s in church almost constantly, singing, praying, listening, learning...seeking God’s face.”
“Like meat for the journey,” Luke observed familiarly.
The Pope tried to throw the conversation to Chief Otis, who was trailing along behind them without a golfball to play, sulking a little. “So Bert here has big plans for the future. But what about you?”
Chief Otis laughed. “I’m an old-timer. Best if we don’t make too many plans! I guess I’ll just keep coaching the team to championship after championship.” It was neither optimism nor vainglory when a Hun predicted victory. It was just a fact. “And I’ll keep watching Luke’s back, knocking down anyone who rises up to challenge his mandate...” He nodded ‘Oh yeah baby’, pleased by this prospect most of all.
“That doesn’t sound very Chri
stian,” the Pope corrected him.
“You’re not from around here though, are ya? Here, a good fight is the best way to witness the gospel. Coz once you beat ‘em, then they respect you. Then they’ll listen to what you say!” The Pope shook his head at the strange irony, but reflected that God had a role for everyone, many parts for the body. Otis finished, “And eventually they’ll tell legends about me, after I ride off into the distance...carrying a Bible,” he remembered to add, for the Pope’s benefit.
“Very good. And you, Luke?”
“Jenny and I will keep planting our crops, and keep planting seeds: and ‘adding to the church such as should be saved’. We expect Hun-Country to continue to grow kinder, and the Church to grow stronger. Forever,” Luke finished, finally providing his own word for his notes, as he nodded and pronounced it again: “Forever.”
“Amen,” said the Pope. Then he chipped in for eagle. Not bad, mister. After Luke chipped in for birdie, Bert and Otis took this as their cue that the way was clear for them to finish their own full-contact match. There was a blur of putters and violent shouts, and Chief Otis wound up sending Bert sprawling, before tapping the ball into the hole. “Nine holes to nine,” he tallied it up. “We have to have a playoff! Oh, hey, see ya later Guy.”
“Yeah, bye your Popeness,” Bert called, as they raced back around to the first tee.
Luke and the Pope stood behind the last green, shaking hands. “And what are your plans then, your Holiness?” Luke inquired politely.
“Same as yours: watch the Church of believers grow stronger. And rejoice for each one. It’s on to Penetanguishene next I guess. But first, back to town, to give Mikki that benediction.”
“I’ll walk you back,” Luke volunteered. “And stop by our tent when you’re done, I’m sure Jenny would like to meet you.”
“The honor would be mine,” the Pope declared beneficently, then went on to explain, “I have done my best to shepherd a church, but she built one from scratch.”
Luke smiled at the compliment. “Good. Come then. I’ll make cheese sandwiches, and I’ll be sure to wrap you one for the road. Because you never quite know where your travels will lead you…”