“Very good; when we go back home we will get one up; call it a church fair, or carnival of churches. Each and all sects to have a booth of their own. The Hindoos would put up an ox as a symbol. The Mahometans—what? a goat. The Jews a sheep. The Christians a lamb. The Chinese a roast pig. Egyptians a cat. Other pagans, somewhere—a snake. Taken altogether, an animal fair, and as all have good points, even a snake, Americans would accept all, and could, by protecting each, make them a happy family. As a cat and dog of one family live in peace under one roof, and the church symbolic animals in one farmyard, so could the principals they symbolize aid in its several good, in one church building.”
I look prayerfully to him and say, regretfully, “But you don’t believe Jesus is coming back.”
“Yes, I do,” he replies. “Then is He coming. For this is He waiting. Peace on earth, among the churches. Upon the cross His arms were spread. To reach around the earth, to join all churches in peace, which is brotherhood; children of God—Father.”
“What would the Jew say to that?”
“They started it before Jesus. The Jewish High Priest Hillel composed the prayer, ‘Our Father.’”
“Yes; but he meant it only for the Jews.”
“Well! he can still be a Jew, in the new world church,” and walked briskly around.
I muse. Where would be my father’s place, as he is an infidel, in this many-sected or membered church. Would Jesus enfold him as a neighbor of kind heart? I think so. Entirely rejoicing in this selection of God’s following, I charmingly ask Show Off, who now appears, “How long do these churches hold open?”
“Always, with Gods as relief.”
“You mean ministers—but does nobody work?”