Fr Xavier Dynamite

Once upon a time, 1882 to be exact, Fr. Xavier Dynamite stood behind the altar of St. Mary’s Church holding up a wafer to the sky and chanting the magical words that would transform the biscuit into the body of Christ. In the back of the church, he heard the familiar grumblings of his archenemy, who would often attend just to mock him.

This is his story.

The priest set the wafer on the altar and took a deep breath. He knew he had to confront the demon in the back row, and unfortunately, the entire congregation had to witness the event. “Will the demon in the back row please approach the altar?” Fr. Dynamite said aloud.

Satan stepped into the aisle and slowly sauntered his way to the front, showing off his new boots, jingling his spurs as he went. The smell of cow poop was overwhelming and the shine on his 6 guns was blinding. “What can I do for you preacher man?” Satan asked in a taunting John Wayne fashion.

“I’ll never understand how the Prince of Lies can step foot in a church without catching fire. This is holy ground you know.”

“I heard.”

“Well?”

“It’s obvious, at least to the more intelligent of us in attendance, that your God isn’t as all-powerful as you claim. Or he just isn’t paying attention as usual, or doesn’t care.”

“Oh, don’t mock God!!” Fr. Dynamite spoke aloud in a commanding voice. “He knew you would enter this church before you made up your mind to cause a disturbance.”

“Really?” Satan asked. “If that’s the case, he must want me here. Or he would have locked the door.”

Fr. Dynamite thought for a moment. “Yes, he allowed you in so you could confess your sins to the people of this wonderful town and accept Jesus Christ as your savior.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Satan replied. “That would go against my very nature. And you do understand there has to be evil in this world to make it work. Could you imagine a world where every day was sunshine, happiness, and glee? What a fucking boring place that would be. And you’d be out of a job preacher man, and so would I.”

“My name is Fr. Dynamite.”

“Mine is Lucifer, glad to make your acquaintance,” Satan said, extending a mocking hand to greet him.

“Nice to meet you Lucifer,” Fr. Dynamite said. “We were in the middle of communion, so if you are done, would you please leave?”

“I promise to be quiet.”

“I don’t believe you. You are called the prince of lies for a reason.”

“Seriously, I just want to watch a bunch of cannibals eat their savior and drink his blood like a bunch of fucking vampires.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Oh, no, it is actually,” Satan replied with a smile. “You act so civil all week long and then on Sunday eat a dead Jew and drink his blood. I’m the good guy in the scenario, don’t you think? We may sacrifice a virgin now and then but we don’t eat the fucking body.”

“It’s not your place to judge,” Fr. Dynamite said.

“Then whose place is it?” Satan asked. “Somebody has to be the adult here. Next thing you know, you’ll be roasting your savior over a fire pit and serving him with potato salad and baked beans.”

Fr. Dynamite addressed the congregation and told them it was time for communion. The parishioners stood and stepped into the aisle like the cult robots they were and headed towards the alter stepping around Satan like he was a statue in their way. “Take this, all of you, and eat of it, for this is my Body which will be given up for you,” Fr. Dynamite spoke aloud.

Satan had an idea and got in line.

As the parishioners received the host and stepped away, Satan moved up to the front and faced Fr. Dynamite head-on. Satan opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue and a bat flew out.

“I am not giving you communion,” Fr. Dynamite said. “You haven’t been properly baptized. Now, if you want to stick around after the service, I can do that for you.”

“Holy water gives me a rash,” Satan said with a grin. “Can I get a medical exemption?”

“I will have to consult with the bishop.”

“I’ll wait,” Satan said, not moving.

“There is a line behind you. Will you please stand to the side?”

Satan turned and looked at the long line behind him, feeling all giddy inside. “Go home people! There is nothing to see here!” Satan said, waving the parishioners off like they were a swarm of bees.