WASHINGTON, DC
Let us pray,” the Reverend Francis Tull said.
He squeezed the hands of President Corbin Talmidge and First Lady Merle Talmidge at the round table in the White House residence that was used for their weekly prayer meetings.
“Lord, give us the strength to persevere against our enemies and be strong enough to do the hard thing. For in the hardest of things we show our undying love for You, O Lord. In those moments we are Your most faithful of servants, forever devoted to keeping Your word and remaking this world in Your image. ‘And walk in the way of love,’” Tull continued, squeezing the hands clutching his harder as he quoted from Ephesians, “‘just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.’”
Both the president’s and the first lady’s eyes were squeezed tightly closed, Tull’s too. He was the son of one of the most famous men of God, if not the most famous, of all time. A man who’d built an empire of devoted followers and worshippers long before the age of the televangelist took hold. But Francis Tull possessed none of his father’s charm, conviction, or even business sense. He’d been bleeding donations since an initial spike that had followed the great man’s death. His piety was threatened by scandals, he had a son who wouldn’t talk to him and had fallen victim to drugs, and his lawyers were currently fighting a losing battle with the IRS over the Tull church’s tax-exempt status. If the Talmidges hadn’t welcomed him into their fold and into the White House, providing a much-needed lifeline to resurrect his flagging reputation, Tull hesitated to think where he’d be right now. They’d even managed to make that IRS investigation go away.
“‘So Christ was sacrificed once to take away the sins of many,’” he continued, quoting the Book of Hebrews, “‘and he will appear a second time, not to bear sin but to bring salvation to those who are waiting for him.’
“O Lord, hear us on this blessed day, for that salvation is what the sacrifices that are to come require. As is Your word, many must die so that more might live, and live their lives true to that word.”
Tull separated his hands from the president and first lady, opening his eyes toward the heavens, as he quoted from First Kings.
“‘Then the fire of the Lord fell, and consumed the burnt sacrifice, and the wood, and the stones, and the dust, and licked up the water that was in the trench.’” He waited for the first couple’s open eyes to regard him before he resumed. “Now, in a coming dawn, another burnt sacrifice will be upon us, one certain to extract a terrible toll that will threaten the faith of all but the most chaste and deserving of Your faith and wisdom. They shall walk the scorched earth and the fires shall tremble under their step, only the residue of smoke left in the wake of the true lot among us who are righteous. Help us, O Lord. Guide us in this time of upheaval and sin and answer the prayers of those who’ve stepped forward to those who keep Your word. ‘Their work will be shown for what it is, because the day will bring it to light. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each person’s work,’” Tull finished, quoting from First Corinthians. “Amen.”
Corbin and Merle Talmidge opened their eyes.
“That was fun,” said the president. “Especially the part about fire.”
“Bless you, my son,” Tull said, touching his shoulder.
“Are you my father? You don’t look like my father.”
The first lady took her husband’s hand and squeezed it affectionately to distract him. He smiled at her.
“Can we pray again?” he asked both of them.
“You should pray in silence,” Tull told him, “so you may hear God speak to you.”
“Just me?”
“Just you.”
The president squeezed his eyes closed again.
“I can be with you when the fateful hour arrives, to offer comfort,” Francis Tull offered the first lady.
“Your presence would provoke suspicion, Reverend,” Merle Talmidge cautioned. “Let’s make it after the fateful hour. Your comfort will be needed for years to follow.”
“‘Mount Sinai was covered with smoke, because the Lord descended on it in fire,’” he said, quoting from the Book of Exodus, as he patted the back of her hand tenderly. “‘The smoke billowed up from it like smoke from a furnace, and the whole mountain trembled violently.’ This country is that mountain. Yours is a holy mission, undertaken to assure His word is not squandered.”
“You would bless a mission certain to cost millions of lives?”
“‘And He does great wonders, so that He makes fire come down from heaven on the earth in the sight of men.’ From the Book of Revelation, Madam First Lady. The earth was forged and preserved in fire. That fire can take many forms, like the one that is soon to be upon us.”
“You haven’t warned any of your people, of course,” Merle Talmidge said.
“I serve the Lord, not them. And to let that word leave this holy house with me would be to rebuke the word of God and prove myself unfit to be His vessel. It is not my place or within my power to bless your holy mission. But I can, and have, blessed you in the time of strife and sin that requires true courage to act. Luke chapter one: ‘Do not fear, for you have found favor with God.’ And from Proverbs: ‘Have no fear of sudden disaster or of the ruin that overtakes the wicked, for the Lord will be your confidence and will keep your foot from being snared.’”
Merle Talmidge took Tull’s hand in both of hers, while the president continued to pray silently to himself, his lips moving and eyes squeezed so tightly closed that his expression looked made of patchwork skin. “You are a great comfort to both of us, Reverend.”
“It’s never easy to do the difficult thing, Madam First Lady.” Tull glanced toward the president, who continued mouthing the silent words of prayer. “Your husband’s illness is a great gift in the making, because it has sowed the seeds that will soon sprout. That could only be God’s work, and you have only followed his word.”
The first lady eased her hands away. “God may speak to you, Reverend, but he doesn’t speak to me.”
“He speaks to all, but only the most fortunate and worthy among us can hear Him. You’ve heard Him loud enough to put His words into action. You and your husband are His vessels. You do what you must, only to serve Him.”
The president’s eyes snapped open suddenly. “Can we sing again now? We haven’t sung yet tonight.”
A knock fell on the door and Merle Talmidge rose to answer it, while Francis Tull moved his chair closer to the president’s.
“I told you we were not to be disturbed,” she said to the assistant she found standing there.
Then she saw the look on his face, no words required.
“Tell them I’ll be right down,” the first lady told him.