Sinnerman

Never had I heard such a sound so dramatic and ancient, as if it were calling from the onset of all creation. A sound that shrieked throughout the open air and rumbled through the dense earth. It cracked open the sky in a glorious display and brought forth the dead from their graves in an awful exhumation. No, never before had I heard anything quite like the horn I heard on Judgement Day.

Its tune struck me in the gut and shook my spirit. Instantly, I knew. The last grain of sand of the holy hourglass had fallen, and the final leaf of life’s big tree had shed. Strange, irrefutable feelings bubbled to the surface of my consciousness. Indeed, I knew; the sound was a call to me. The Judge would see me now.

No, not now. For I was not ready.

My feet found their sense before me. Without a semblance of knowing what I was doing, I woke in a full sprint. “Where are you running to?” a voice asked, a question to which I had no ready answer. My mind spun. Would I run to my reputation? Could my wealth insulate me from the ruling that was to come? Perhaps my deeds or desires could advocate on my behalf? Would I find asylum anywhere in this barren world?

The answer came to me: the rock!

Of course, the rock, my foundation. The sturdy and reliable base where I found support in winter and bounty in spring; yes, surely I could depend on my old friend. I ran and ran until I reached his mighty face. The horn blared throughout the skies above, and my lungs drew in hot air as I cried out, “Rock! Please hide me.”

But the rock did not turn to greet me with his usual fervor. His once tender soil had singed to brittle ash. His bold magnificence was dwarfed by the ever-growing gash in the heavens. The sturdiness and warmth I had grown accustomed to had now turned fickle.

“I cannot hide you,” he replied. “Go from here, I say!”

“What’s the matter with you? Can't you see I need you, old friend?”

My indignation caught in my throat as I beheld 10,000 angels descending from the fiery sky. Their contorted bodies and legion of eyes scoured the land. Creatures, both human and animal, trembled in terrible reverence; but not I. No, I knew they were coming for me. I had to keep running; but to where? Certainly my sanctuary was hidden in some forgotten crevice of this desolate land.

My feet traced a path to the river, another ancient friend. A friend that had witnessed my birth and would surely counsel me away from my death. Surely, I could syphon more life from her fertile riverbed. Surely, her streams could cleanse me of any stench or stain. Surely.

However, as I approached, I did not find the cool, clear waters that I had bathed in for the many decades I had known her. Nor did her riverbed teem with the civilizations of small critters and fish as it did before. No, instead I found her as a river of blood.

My dear friend, thick and pulsating, flowed with an unnatural rhythm. Her waters, once sweet and restorative, now reflected the crimson hue of despair. My steps faltered. My stomach churned. The river seemed to writhe and moan, mirroring the torment that echoed through the air. I knew, indeed, she could be of no use to me. I had to keep moving, for I could see the million-eyed angels closing in. I ran along the grotesque bank of my hematic friend until, beyond the limits of man, my feet found the sea.

Yes, the sea; I could undoubtedly find refuge within her tides. Since the dawn of time, she has swallowed and birthed, only to swallow again. She has always been the great unknowable and the original mother. "In her womb," I thought, "I shall hide myself away forever in her vast obscurity. There, I shall find shelter!"

But as I stumbled upon her beaches, I was mortified to find that the mother was boiling. Yes, her tides jostled and steamed as the creatures of her depths cried out in agony. Oh, the anguish upon their faces spoke to me, saying, "Halt! Diving into these waters would bring about swift death!" I shuddered as realization set in: there was nowhere left to run. The land, the sea, the air, all conspired against me. This world offered no cover nor salvation, and the celestial hounds were near.

My body begged me to relent; it was ready for its eternal rest, but I refused. I knew what awaited me at the Judge's court. I knew the cost of giving in, and I was not willing to pay—I would never be willing to pay. I would exhaust every option I had, overturn every stone I could find, and defer until my very last breath if it meant more time. So, as the angels closed in, I did the only thing I knew to do: I ran—further than any man had run before. I ran beyond speech, I ran beyond form. I ran beyond the confines of this failing world. I found the highest summit of this reality and fell to my knees.

“Lord!” I cried out with everything in me. “Shall you hide me?”

Just then, the horde of angels filled the heavens and swarmed around me. Their eyes burned into my flesh, and what felt like arms bound my wrists, lowering my head. I could sense the Lord peering down from His throne by a gentle yet forceful brilliance, forcing me to deflect my gaze.

“Sinnerman," His brilliance spoke. "Where were you when you had ought to have been praying? Now, you are too late. Judgement is upon you. Go.”

“My Lord, please! Hear me praying to you now! If you grant me salvation, I shall praise you for eternity. Do not forsake me, I beg you!”

The sensation from the kiss of pity that He placed on my forehead shot through my body, and my tears cooled the burning in my cheeks as I convulsed from His divine touch.

“My child,” He said. “You shall find no salvation here. Go to the Devil. He awaits.”

Something within me, at the core of who I was, broke. Was this not the fabled Cross-Bearer? Was I not a lost lamb searching for my shepherd? So much of my tenure on this earth was spent thinking of Him and feeling for Him and theorizing about Him. Was the only repayment in the holy realm a stern face and a cold shoulder in my time of need? I searched my body and brain, the only true possessions I realized I'd ever had, for anything I could offer to change His mind, but I produced nothing. So, I did not think, feel, or theorize. Instead, I ran.

Was I running, or was I being ushered? I moved through space and time, abandoning my body when it could no longer keep pace. Lower and lower, I went until the heat of the sky was eclipsed by the heat of the Earth. I found my way to the fiery gates, and just as the Lord had said, he was waiting.

“Devil!” I croaked. “Shall you hide me?”

A lurid, lustful smile crept over his face, and his horrible, caprine eyes stared down at me in anticipation, as if he had been waiting for this moment my whole life—perhaps even before. I withered in his presence as he towered above me, singing with a sinister grin.

“But of course, Sinnerman. Look no further. You shall find asylum with me. Step right in, and I shall shield you from Judgement.”

With a weary, trembling resignation, with nowhere left to run, I reached out to him, and he guided me into his furnace with a firm hand. Yes, here, Judgement should not reach me. Here is where I shall hide forever.

***

Inspired by Nina Simone’s cover of “Sinnerman”

https://youtu.be/QH3Fx41Jpl4?si=kqo34a4fInxE2SQ4