Lawrence had been a meteorologist for ten years, but he had never seen a storm this devastating. The small CB radio crackled to life.
“Lawrence? You there?”
“Yes, I can hear you Mike.”
“Tell your folks to shelter in place and get away from ground level immediately. I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“Ok Mike, I’ll be praying for you.”
Lawrence stepped out of the small office. A large crowd was awaiting his news.
“Everyone, this is more than a hurricane. We are going to shelter here for now. I suggest we move upstairs”
The crowd started to murmur in shock.
“Is that true?”
“How did it happen so quickly?”
“My mother is still at home!”
Lawrence raised his voice. “I’m not sure how long this storm will last. But we need to prepare for the worst.”
Voices overlapped and grew in volume as the panic increased.
“Quiet please! Everyone!” said a grandiose voice from the front of the room. “Thank you Lawrence, for informing us all of the severity of the situation. We need to remain calm. We have nothing to worry about. The Lord will protect us here.”
“But Father, what about our families?”
“My neighbors might not know!”
“My uncle lives alone.”
“Please!” said the man again. “I understand your concerns but with less than 30 minutes we don’t have time to collect all our friends and family. We can only petition God for their safety.” He stood above them on a stage, an older man, clean-shaven with dyed hair, swept over his balding head. He stepped down from the stage, his gait uneven as he relied on a cane for balance.
“Father Conrad,” said Lawrence. “What about the people in this neighborhood? We could help them.”
“We don’t have enough space for everyone!” said a woman.
“What about food? How will we feed our families?” said another.
“Everyone,” said Father Conrad. “I appreciate your concerns, but our food pantry should be large enough for the two hundred folks gathered here.”
The audience calmed.
“I care about all of our families here, but what about those who don’t have shelter?” said Lawrence.
Before anyone else could speak, a knocking came from outside the sanctuary. The wooden doors creaked back and forth. Father Conrad walked out cautiously, his cane clacking along the tiles.
People were at the doors, begging for help.
Cal, one of the veteran members of the church, went up the stairs to look out the upper windows. “There must be more than a hundred people outside! Homeless by the looks of ‘em,” he said to those below.
“This is our chance to help them,” said Lawrence.
“Don’t be so hasty. We don’t know them,” said Father Conrad.
“But they might die out there, we don’t know what is coming.”
“Lawrence, you’re right. We don’t know what is coming. We don’t know if those people are here to kill us and loot our building. We don’t know if they are here to take all we have away. What if we let them in and they murder and rob us? Do you want that on your conscience?
I would ask everyone here; should any of us have to suffer because the masses ignored the call to righteous living for so long? Should we take on the sin-stained and greed-filled beggars who would dare cry for salvation after the hour of judgment has passed?! Who here would dare to give away the salvation of our sanctuary to those who have not earned nor deserve such a blessing? I should hope that no one would!”
The crowd broke into approving murmurs of “amen”.
“Lawrence, these doors will stay closed. That is final. It is too late to help them.”
He stared at Lawrence, waiting for a response.
“Just as I thought,” said Father Conrad. “Now I need some men who can barricade the doors. Ladies, please move the children and the elderly up to the third floor.”

Within ten minutes the door handles were tied with cord and covered with furniture. Lawrence sat by the radio, listening for any sign of hope.
“God protect them,” he whispered.
Everyone had gone up to the third floor, but Lawrence paced around the doorway, close enough to hear the faint yelps of the helpless. Cal came back down the steps, looking out the window as he passed. He was an older man, with soft eyes and a long gray beard that extended over his chest.
“Father Conrad sent me to check on you.”
“Oh really. So he does care about someone besides himself.”
“Lawrence, he cares for us. He is trying to keep us safe.”
“But not all of us. If you’re outside those doors you don’t count.”
“No one can help those folks.”
“We could’ve helped them.”
“Why don’t you come up with us? It’ll take your mind off things. We got some games going with the young ones.”
“You want me to play games while people are crying on our doorstep for mercy? Just ignore them?”
“No Lawrence, I don’t want you to ignore them. I want you to forget them. It’s already too late. It’s like Father Conrad said, they should’ve helped themselves earlier. If some of these people had been in homeless shelters or getting themselves help they wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place! When I was young I didn’t just sit around waiting for someone to help me, I made a man out of myself and fixed my life. I don’t take handouts and neither should they.”
“So what, we are just the lucky winners? We have a nice church building so we get to live? We have jobs, homes, and families, and we get chosen to survive because of it? How do you know the people out there aren’t worthy? What if they come here!”
“Lawrence, you aren’t thinking straight. If you took one look at them you’d know they don’t come here. We can’t do anything for them.”
“But we can! We could at least let them come out of the rain. We can make space. We can ration the food!”
“There isn’t enough space or food for everyone, Lawrence.”
Lawrence went to the doors and started to pull down the furniture. “I’m letting them in. I don’t care what Conrad says.”
“Lawrence, stop it!” Cal tried to grab and pull him back.
“Get off!” Lawrence shoved him and he fell back onto the floor, out of breath.
“I’m not stopping, and you can’t stop me!” Lawrence shouted.
“Cal might not be able to stop you, but we sure can.”
Father Conrad walked down the stairs with a group of men.
“What a fine ruckus you boys have been making down here! Seems you might need some help cleaning up.” Father Conrad eased himself down with his cane.
“Don’t any of you realize how wrong this is?”
“Lawrence, these men have real families to provide and care for. They are thinking of them first.”
“Yes, think of your families. Do you really want to look your children in the eyes and tell them you let innocent people die? Do you want to spend the rest of your life justifying what you are about to do? Do you have a lifetime of regret? I don’t and I don’t think any of you do either.”
Some of the men started to shift uneasily.
Father Conrad turned and said, “What? Are some of you too weak to defend your own families against the unclean masses?” He turned now to Lawrence. “Since when have you become the messiah of the faithless? What has caused you to turn so quickly against your own kin? Your brothers and sisters in the faith? I think, Lawrence, that maybe you do not have our best interests in mind.”
“If I have to betray you all to save the helpless then so be it.”
More furniture came crashing down in front of the stairs as he pulled it.
“Lawrence! Someone stop him!”
The men were trying to scramble over the mess as Lawrence was untying the doors.
“Hold on! I’m going to help you!” he shouted through the doors. Faint cries of thanks responded.
A group of men flipped the pile of furniture just as Lawrence untied the door, and before he could open it they pulled him to the ground and threw their weight against the doors. They pinned him down and held his arms and legs as others tied the doors again.
“No! We need to save them!”
Father Conrad stood above him while he shouted.
“Lawrence, I am the shepherd of this flock. Do you know what a shepherd does? He keeps the sheep safe. When a sheep wanders away it is the duty of the shepherd to correct his behavior. Sometimes, in order to keep a sheep from running off, the shepherd has to break its legs. Then the sheep learns to rely on its shepherd because it can’t walk on its own. Then the sheep will think twice about wandering off on its own. But, sometimes the sheep comes to his senses before that needs to happen. What do you think?”
“I’ll tell you what I think Conrad. If you can listen to the voices screaming for help just outside these doors and yet remain without an ounce of compassion, then you aren’t a shepherd, but a cold-blooded wolf.”
“Those are some unkind words Lawrence. It’s unfortunate what you’re going to make me do, but it can’t be helped.”
The men picked him up and held him upright. Father Conrad spun his cane in his hand, handing it off to one of the men.
“You know Matthew 11:12 Lawrence? Well, Jesus tells us in Matthew 11:12 that the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force. I hate violence Lawrence, I really do, but sometimes the kingdom does suffer it so on account of men like you.”
Father Conrad nodded and a man swung the cane at Lawrence’s left knee. It gave in with a crack and he gave out short pained grunts. His cries drowned out those at the door.
“Lawrence,” said Father Conrad. “This doesn’t need to continue, but if you insist on acting as a fool, we need to amend that.”
Lawrence’s chest heaved. He didn’t open his mouth.
“You are a stubborn one Lawrence.”
The man swung at Lawrence’s other knee. They dropped him to the ground, both his legs mangled and twisted.
“I detest violence Lawrence. But I must defend my flock. I hope all is clear now.”
Lawrence sat up on his elbows, staring into Father Conrad’s smug face.
“Let’s lock him in my office.”
Before the men could pick him back up a brightness like an atomic bomb flashed outside, blinding those by the windows. It was swiftly followed by a great blast of thunderous wailing, shaking the very foundations of the earth. Everyone was thrown to their knees and tumbled over each other. Glass broke, rain splashed through windows, and they all cried out in panic. After a moment all was still and the voices subsided to a low murmur. Everyone stood up with a slow delicate ease. Water was pouring in over the high windows.
“Everyone, we need to get upstairs and out of danger. The storm is upon us,” said Father Conrad
Outside the world was glowing red and yellow. The sky was washed a deep alizarin crimson. Father Conrad led the group of men back to rejoin their families.
“Where is Lawrence?” Cal asked them.
“Leave him!” responded Father Conrad.
The storm continued to roll towards them with great speed and animosity. Call watched it through the broken windows, listening for voices gone silent. He looked back towards the doors. Water poured through the remains of the entrance, and there in the stream, bent and splintered, was Father Conrad’s cane, alone. He beheld the great trumpeting thunder again and walked upstairs.