{"id":529,"date":"2024-09-03T10:25:42","date_gmt":"2024-09-03T10:25:42","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/marksaywriter.com\/?page_id=529"},"modified":"2024-09-03T10:25:42","modified_gmt":"2024-09-03T10:25:42","slug":"behind-the-church","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/marksaywriter.com\/index.php\/behind-the-church\/","title":{"rendered":"Behind the Church"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

This story was inspired by a Lionel Feininger painting of the same name, which can\u2019t be reproduced here due to a copyright issue, but can be seen on this link:<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

https:\/\/germanexpressionismleicester.org\/leicesters-collection\/artists-and-artworks\/lyonel-feininger\/behind-the-Church<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Fein drifted away from the group and leaned against the wall of the warehouse adjacent to the Church. He could see they had unconsciously shifted to a spot in the dim light from the stained windows, a few feet closer to the stifling power within. He leaned back into the shadow of a recess, not wanting to be visible from the Church, even if nobody inside was watching. That sense of awe and intimidation was still there, the power that had pushed them away but made it frightening to leave, despite the dim light and perpetual cold. Then he noticed a movement in the group, figures turning and looking towards the shadow that led to rear door. Another figure emerged, moving with the familiar uncertainty of a new exile, shivering as it felt the cold. He could see it was a woman, and curiosity lured him out of the shadow. The group spread into a semi-circle around the new arrival, and as Fein approached he saw the familiar look on her face, incomprehension and fear with a trace of anger. Lang, the one who had been there longest, was the first to speak.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWere you expelled or did you reject them?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt was something in between,\u201d the woman replied. \u201cI asked questions. I was told that if I couldn\u2019t accept the Word with complete faith I wouldn\u2019t belong. So I walked away.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s a familiar story. Most of us stepped outside under similar circumstances. What\u2019s your name?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGabrielle.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDo you intend to stay here? Or return, or go into the Unknown?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLike all of us. It needs time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The group dispersed, five men moving slowly towards the walls and doorways of buildings besides the Church. Some approached other figures already on the fringes, others disappeared into shadows. Fein knew the pattern; they all sometimes needed time for assurance and speculations, and sometimes needed solitude. He approached the woman.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHad you thought about doing this before?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, but I hadn\u2019t planned to do it now. The priest said something that didn\u2019t make sense to me. It showed on my face and he noticed, pointed me out and told me to explain what I was thinking. When I asked he told me \u2013 no, told everyone \u2013 that was an expression of bad faith and that I may not be worthy of a place in the Church. At first he said no more, just stared at me in silence, like I had seen him to do with others. I knew I was meant to apologise, but I asked the question again. Then he raised his voice, so everybody could hear his anger, and said I could accept the Word or step outside and consider the prospect of oblivion. I looked around, had seen others fall apart and beg for forgiveness, then moved out of the aisle to go towards the main door. But the guards moved to block the way and I knew I would only be allowed to leave through the rear door, into the place for exiles.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo you came out here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt seemed all I could do.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He paused, felt sympathy and allowed it to show in his voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow do you feel?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She responded with a slow breath and closed eyes, then replied quietly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCold on the outside. Numb inside.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He felt an urge to say something comforting, but then Sonia appeared and he left them. The women were usually better at helping each other deal with the initial shock.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Time passed \u2013 he wasn\u2019t sure if it was hours, days or weeks \u2013 and Fein spoke with Gabrielle again. She asked how long he had been there, and he could only explain in terms of the other exiles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLonger than Lang and Murnau, not as long as Marc or Bloch. Burijuk has been here the longest.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ve realised something happens here with time,\u201d she replied. \u201cIt\u2019s still here, but it\u2019s harder to grasp, to keep track.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s right. It\u2019s still here, but our sense of it has weakened. We often speak about it, agree that it must be part of the exile.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd we recover it by returning to the Church?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI assume so. I haven\u2019t tried.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ve seen people who have gone back. They seem relieved, but they have to go to the pews for the returned, and it\u2019s dark there. I could never see their faces.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI remember. It\u2019s something that has prevented me from returning.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve thought of it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve all thought of it. Some have done so. We\u2019ve no way of knowing if it was the right thing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat about the other way?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They both looked away from the Church, into the wide corridor between the adjacent buildings. Everything was dark, the shapes dissolving into the distance, with just a tiny white spot a long way off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIs that a light?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe don\u2019t know for sure.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHas anyone been to look more closely?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cQuite a few since I\u2019ve been here. None have come back.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIs that why everyone stays here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat would you do?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She didn\u2019t answer, but stared into the darkness then took a few steps forward. He had seen it done before, and wasn\u2019t surprised when her steps slowed, wobbled faintly and she came to a halt. It was what usually happened, including on the times he had tried himself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

 \u201cSonia warned me,\u201d she said. \u201cThis is why we stay here for so long, despite the cold.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He didn\u2019t answer, but noticed the tear in her eye and wished he could help.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A while later Burijik and Marc said they were going to walk into the darkness. It prompted the same conversations as before: whether there were unseen dangers, was it a light in the distance, was there something better out there or nothing but oblivion? It took some time to for the pair to get ready; they had nothing to carry but felt a need for quiet, to try to strip their minds of fear. Others gathered around them, they said their goodbyes and began to walk. Fein found himself standing next to Gabrielle as the figures began to fade into the dark. Then Burijik faltered and turned to look back. Marc took his arm and tried to lead him forward, but Burijik pulled away and took a few steps backwards. Marc walked on and disappeared. Burijik watched for a while, then came back to the others. His face was a picture of shame and fear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI couldn\u2019t,\u201d he said. \u201cI couldn\u2019t shake off the fear that there was just \u2026. nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNever mind,\u201d said a voice. \u201cMaybe you can try again.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBurijik shook his head and slipped into one of the dark spots.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Fein and Gabrielle looked at each other in distress, then squeezed hands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Burijik\u2019s fear spread among the others, engulfed by a sense that Marc must have walked into obliteration, and soon afterwards two of them, Sonia and Frederic, returned inside. Fein watched them slink sheepishly into the recess then push at the door. He could see nothing beyond there, but felt a faint warmth from inside. It was a temptation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the hours \u2013 or it might have been days \u2013 that followed, he noticed that several of the exiles often stood close to the door, staring as if their minds were drifting to what lay inside. Obtaining forgiveness would take a long time, but that would be better than the nothing out in the distance. He noticed that Gabrielle was often among them and could see from her expression that she was weakening.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre you thinking of going back inside?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At first she seemed to reluctant to reply, but then nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t think I can stay out here much longer,\u201d she said. \u201cIt\u2019s the cold, and the sense of loss.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDo you think it was better in there?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI felt I belonged. I know I\u2019ll have to do penance, but maybe in time it will be better.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He could see anxiety and longing in her face and felt an unfamiliar stirring to protect her. Maybe that could be back inside the Church. He didn\u2019t suggest anything, but stayed close to her, shared silences, and noticed that she stopped a little closer to the door with each approach. He thought about possibilities, knew that he didn\u2019t want to remain outside forever, and remembered that Marc, nor any of the others who had into the darkness, had ever returned. Inside would be difficult, but it was warm, and if he was with Gabrielle it could be tolerable \u2026 and maybe after time better. He moved to her side and took her hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDo you want to return?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBoth of us?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, together.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They shared a flash of hope. Then he glanced around, saw that others were watching and responded with a nod.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe\u2019re going to give it a try.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He and Gabrielle turned towards the door and entered what they remembered as a short corridor in a faint light. A voice came from within the Church, strident and louder with every step they took, and Fein braced himself for a violent rebuke. Then two other figures appeared directly in front of them, moving so quickly that they almost collided. It was Sonia and Frederic, both looking ashamed and angry and desperate to escape. Sonia looked into Fein\u2019s face and shook her head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo,\u201d she said. \u201cIt\u2019s worse that we expected.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then they pushed past them and stumbled back through the door into the open. For a moment Fein and Gabrielle just stood and stared at each other, squeezing hands and realising that they both felt a new surge of fear. Then he took a step back and gave her a gentle tug. She followed, they both turned and went back out of the Church.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The others had gathered around Sonia and Frederic, her sobbing, him on one knee and breathing heavily as has gasped for words to explain. Fein and Gabrielle moved around the edge of the group and sensed how the distress had quickly spread. He thought of an eternity of these episodes and wondered if it was worse than what lay inside the Church. That made up his mind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCome on.\u201d He gently squeezed Gabrielle\u2019s hand. \u201cThe other way.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She looked uncertain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat if there\u2019s nothing there?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll find out, and we\u2019ll be together.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They moved away from the group. He noticed that Bloch had noticed them, and responded with raised hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re going into the dark?\u201d Bloch said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe\u2019re going towards the light.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They turned away and walked steadily. The shapes and shadows of the surrounding buildings quickly melted into darkness with just the pinpoint of light ahead. The voices of the exiles faded and the sense of a power behind them grew weaker. They kept walking, sharing a fear of the unknown and wondering if the pinprick of light was real. But then it grew stronger and expanded, so that it crept and gently swept around them to reveal a landscape of hills, woodland, rivers and blue sky bathed in sun. They found their feet on a gentle downward slope of lush grass, felt the sun on their faces and a warmth spread through their bodies. Then came a tingling, their atoms breaking apart and mingling then spreading out into the scene around them. They became part of the bliss.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

This story was inspired by a Lionel Feininger painting of the same name, which can\u2019t be reproduced here due to a copyright issue, but can be seen on this link: https:\/\/germanexpressionismleicester.org\/leicesters-collection\/artists-and-artworks\/lyonel-feininger\/behind-the-Church Fein drifted away from the group and leaned against the wall of the warehouse adjacent to the Church. He could see they had unconsciously … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-529","page","type-page","status-publish"],"yoast_head":"\nBehind the Church - MARK SAY<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"Short story - inspired by a painting by Lionel Feininger - about a surreal dilemma of religious belief.\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/marksaywriter.com\/index.php\/behind-the-church\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_GB\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Behind the Church - MARK SAY\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Short story - inspired by a painting by Lionel Feininger - about a surreal dilemma of religious belief.\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/marksaywriter.com\/index.php\/behind-the-church\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"MARK SAY\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Estimated reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"10 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/marksaywriter.com\/index.php\/behind-the-church\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/marksaywriter.com\/index.php\/behind-the-church\/\",\"name\":\"Behind the Church - 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