Lukas was sitting on the bench by the lake, wrapped in a blanket. He was wearing dry clothes, but he still struggled to warm up. Pastor Simon had held him underwater. He had almost drowned. Pastor Simon had asked him if he could see the devil, but he could not, and then the pastor had pushed his head under the water. Lukas was confused. First the pastor nearly drowned him, then he brought him dry clothes. He had kept the dry clothes and the blanket in the car. The pastor must have planned this. Why?
Pastor Simon returned from the car with a packed lunch and a thermos. He sat on the bench of the picnic table facing Lukas. Brown-cheese sandwiches. He unscrewed the lid on the thermos and poured hot chocolate into the cup.
“Eat and drink,” the pastor said.
Lukas took a sip of the cocoa and felt the warmth flow down his throat. He ate the sandwiches slowly while the pastor watched him. The pastor did not say a single word. He sat on the bench with his hands folded in front of him, looking at Lukas with a soft, warm gaze. Lukas was still a little scared, but he was starting to feel much better. The pastor didn’t take his eyes off him for one second. Usually he would look above his head, toward heaven, or at some other point—at any rate never directly at him, never fix his eyes on him like he did now. Slowly, Lukas’s body began to warm up. He tried meeting the pastor’s gaze but was only partly successful. He had eaten all the sandwiches and drunk three cups of hot chocolate before the pastor finally started talking.
“God sent his only son, Jesus Christ, to earth to take upon himself the sins of the world,” the pastor said. “The people had the chance to save Jesus, but they chose Barabbas, the thief, instead.”
Lukas nodded softly.
“What does this tell you about people?” the pastor asked him.
Lukas did not reply. He didn’t want to get it wrong and end up under the water again. He could still feel the panic coursing through him.
“That people don’t know what’s good for them,” the pastor continued. “People should not be allowed to decide for themselves. You understand that, don’t you, Lukas?”
Lukas nodded. They had talked about this before. Most people were stupid. They didn’t know what was good for them. For that reason God had chosen only a few who would go to heaven. Only the special ones. The initiated. Those who had realized this. Forty people from the church. And a few others. People from across the world whom they would meet in the course of time.
Pastor Simon looked straight at him and took his hand. “I am God,” the pastor said.
At this Lukas felt the warmth instantly return to his body. He started tingling all over, more strongly than ever. From his toes up to his ankles, his thighs, his stomach up to his throat, his face was flushed and now also his ears.
“I am God,” the pastor said. “And you are my Son.”
Lukas sat with his mouth hanging open. The pastor was God. It was obvious now. This was how it was. It made perfect sense. When he talked to God in his office, he was talking to himself. The pastor was God. And he, Lukas, was the Son of God.
“Father,” Lukas said in awe, and bowed his head.
“My Son,” the pastor said, placing his hand on Lukas’s head.
Lukas felt the warmth from the hand of God spread across his scalp.
“You passed the test,” the pastor said. “You put your life in my hands. And I hope that you trust me now. I could have killed you, but I didn’t. Because you have greater tasks to accomplish before we go home.”
“Home?” Lukas said cautiously.
“To heaven.” The pastor smiled.
“Am . . . am I really the new Jesus?” Lukas stammered.
The pastor nodded. “Twenty-seven years ago, I sent you to earth.”
Lukas could barely believe his ears. Of course. It all fit! And it explained why he had no parents.
“And I found you again.” Lukas nodded reverently.
“You found me again,” the pastor agreed.
“But the first Jesus accomplished great things. What have I done?” Lukas said.
“It will happen.” The pastor smiled. “Today.”
“Today?” Lukas said with anticipation in his voice.
The pastor walked back to the car. He returned holding a small bundle, which he placed carefully on the bench.
“For me?”
“Open it,” the pastor told him.
Lukas unwrapped the bundle with trembling fingers. His eyes widened when he saw the contents. “A gun?”
The pastor nodded.
“What do you want me to do?”
The pastor leaned toward him and took his hand. “Last week an intruder came into the House of Light.”
“Who?”
“A boy, sent by the devil.”
Lukas could feel the rage explode inside him. The devil had sent a boy to stop them from traveling. He knew it. The pastor and Nils had been so quiet recently.
“But fortunately I am stronger than the devil.” The pastor smiled. “I know him, but he does not know me.”
Of course, Lukas thought.
Deo sic per diabolum.
The path to God is through the devil.
Understand the devil. Get to know him. This was what the pastor had meant.
“And where is the boy, now?”
“He’s being held in the safe room.”
“And what are we going to do with him?”
“You are going to kill him,” the pastor said.
Lukas looked at the gun in front of him and nodded softly.
“There is just one small problem.”
“What is that?”
“He has taken Rakel prisoner. My Rakel.”
“Vile demon,” Lukas sneered.
“So you must be careful. Kill the boy, but don’t harm Rakel. I need my Rakel in heaven.”
“I promise to do my best.”
Lukas bowed and kissed the pastor’s hand. The pastor rose. Lukas wrapped the pistol in the cloth again and carried it back to the car.
“When we get to heaven, you’ll have your very own Rakel.”
“Oh?” Lukas said.
“I promise,” the pastor assured him. “You know the little angels who have been hanging from the trees?”
“The girls everyone is talking about?”
“Yes,” the pastor replied. “They will meet us up there. You can choose one of them.”
His very own girl? But he didn’t want a girl. God was enough for him. What on earth would he do with a little girl? Lukas decided not to say anything; he didn’t want to argue with the pastor. He put on his seat belt, started the car, drove calmly down the forest track to the farm.