Tag Archives: religion

The Man Who Ran for God (Conclusion)

V. Fight the Good Fight of the Faith

God Don’t Care?”
Six weeks or so after Paris, Gideon Dodd slapped a heavy manuscript onto his pal Ray Wachstetter’s desk.

“Just in time for Christmas,” he said.

Ray repeated himself, his bifocals casting a white glare on the title page. “But, Gid— God Don’t Care? Do you think that’ll play? It’s a bit sacrilegious, not to mention a grammatical nightmare—”

“Someone’s got to stand up to Him,” said Dodd. “Someone’s gotta call Him out on His baloney.”

Wachstetter shuffled a wetted thumb through the paper stack. He grabbed at messy horseshoe-hair tufts and frowned. “You’re the most devoted Christian I’ve ever met. This— This is a declaration of war on God.” Continue reading

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The Man Who Ran for God (pt. 14)

SELAH: V

There is the smell of fresh-baked apple pie, made foul by the mingling acrid odors of blood, mildew, flatulence.

Hanging slouched off the left side of a cushioned, regal chair, the Pope dips a zig-zag finger into the pie and suckles it. His lips tremble.

Any minute now. Continue reading

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The Man Who Ran for God (pt. 13)

IV. My Mouth Will Tell of Your Righteous Acts

THE GOD WE DESERVE IS JUST A MAN

by Mary Jetson

When I ask Gideon Dodd, 42, why he wants to be God, his eyes glaze over in that way many would assume means he’s staring straight through them, cooking up some diplomatic, sound bite-ready answer.

But after wandering the plains of the Serengeti with him for nearly a full day without sleep, food, or water, this reporter knows the good reverend. That empty look isn’t the sign of an artful political dodge, or of mistrust in the media. Dodd is searching inward, dissecting his very soul.

He hasn’t, in fact, given any thought to this quandary before.

And it’s in this ten-second pregnant pause that the writer decides she’s going to vote for Gideon Dodd, because there’s an honesty, a truth in that self-reflection. Dodd is impetuous. He’s bull-headed. He has a terrible sense of self-worth and more neuroses than you could ever count. He has irritable bowel syndrome and a fear of flying.

He is, in a word, human. Continue reading

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The Man Who Ran for God (pt. 10)

VII. Therefore My Harp Is Tuned to Mourning

“Who died?”

In America, five years before Gideon Dodd would don the very same outfit to honor his deceased wife, he straightened a black tie and practiced a somber punim in the mirror of his grandiose dressing room. A woman at the mahogany door spoke to him as though she didn’t see he was wearing headphones. But she saw.

Most would not have even registered the brief flicker of Dodd’s eyes up, left, and back down to the silky wad in his fumbling hands. But Maria Gutierrez was more observant than most. She knew he saw her. She knew he recognized her. Continue reading

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The Man Who Ran for God (pt. 9)

III. Weep Bitterly for Her Who Goes Away

Six days after Gideon Dodd’s sermon about Truth — and about his wife Tamera’s infamous interview with Maria Gutierrez (not yet Stenson) — he returned home late from an elders’ meeting.

He was hungry. He was thinking about playing catch with his boy, maybe, after dinner. (Not that James had yet caught anything, or thrown much.)

Humming a hymn, he opened the door on an empty house. In houses as big as Gideon Dodd’s, emptiness like that can almost be a punch in the gut.

There was a note. Continue reading

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