True Evil

A good nights sleep 

He attracted new followers by inviting them to partake in lavish free Sunday dinners. Of course members were forbidden sex, even when married (men and women slept in separate dormitories), no alcohol, or tobacco either, only food. Food was their only pleasure, and lots of it too. The "Peace Mission" offered 20 course banquets: to be sure a gluttons idea of heaven. Tables were piled high with hams, chicken wings, great mounds of ice cream, and cakes the size of beehives. And it was at this time, during the feast, that pathetic sinners would confess their sorry sins to Father Divine. They dropped to their knees before him with hands clasped, or hands raised above their heads, praising him for saving them from hell.

At the same time the faithful were ordered to be scrupulous in their honesty. This rule was distorted to the point where his followers were required to pay back the government every penny of welfare they received during the great depression.

Yes, he was generous, but with who's money? Soon he had enlarged the scope of the mission to include an employment agency to help out of work members of the congregation to find jobs. A caring and honest endeavour indeed, only the newly employed had to give up 90% of their income to the mission, much of which found its way directly into Father Divines bottomless pocket.

Soon Father Divine had so much money he could live a life style appropriate to a god. He lived in a grand mansion. He owned a fleet of automobiles, including the famous "Throne car." This custom built, 265-horsepower vehicle featured an elevated throne and a roof lined with white plush sprinkled with golden stars. At the touch of a button the top would open to reveal Father Divine on his throne . . .

God save the King, or better, the King is God himself! A mad man, right? Yet people believed in this weirdo, believed he would never die too. Quite frankly this story is so bizarre that it is difficult to believe at all, and that is why Father Divine has earned his place here in the "Naked Truth." I mean just image a black guy driving around New York in a car with a hydraulic chair; and suddenly the roof opens up and out pops this mad Jack-in-the-box; then, chucking his gnawed bones and chicken wings aside, he begins to stuff his face with a cake the size of a beehive. I don't know about you, but the moment he poped up I would run away screaming . . .

Anyway he was so cunning with his money that he never paid a single penny of any income tax, ever. This discrepancy between the rule of extreme honesty imposed on his followers and the license to cheat that he allowed himself was only surpassed in immorality by his double standard with regard to sex. He surrounded himself with what he called angels. They were the most beautiful of his female followers. And representing his secretarial staff they would not only engage Father Divine in office duties, but likewise in duties of the chambers. Yes, not only was he driven by greed he was also prone to disgusting sexual misconduct . . .

Just image Father Divine in the garage sitting in the throne car and surrounded by naked angels. Just image the hydraulic chair going up and down, the car roof opening and closing, naked angles covered in white plush and sprinkled in golden stars. Just image, at that very same moment, thousands of draughty dormitories; inside millions of frustrated members, some awake, some in the throws of a nightmare, some lying there silently in a cold sweat, yet all of them with one thing in common: celibacy!!!

Well, all things come to an end. This was also true for Father Divine. Yes, he did claim he would never die, right? Well, what a terrible shock for the faithful when suddenly he did! It goes without saying that his untimely death was more then just a little embracing. Deaths within the sect had always been explained as the result of sin or secret disbelief on the part of the deceased. For Father Divine this obviously could not be the case. Yet even now, standing before deaths door, and the skeptical eyes of his followers,  Father Divine had an explanation: he always had an explanation.

Lying there on his death bed, Divine suddenly rose up, and, with his very last breath, shouted joyously, "I'm not dying! I'm just . . . de-materializing!" And with that he fell back upon his bed and never spoke another holy word again to this world.

His followers were devastated, not entirely because of his untimely demise, moreover, he did not de-materialize; nor did a blinding light shine down from heaven, nor did angles come and carry his body away. No, he deteriorated like any common mortal. Soon Father Divine's body looked more like a rotten pumpkin then a heavenly body of the spirit. Yet, not even this was enough to make his followers give up their belief. They just would not bury that ugly corpse no matter what happened.

Perhaps, they thought, he would, indeed, de-materialize at the very last moment.

So they waited . . . lit candles, shared bread, ate ice cream, chucked chicken bones, and waited . . . knelt down beside his bed and, waited . . . held hands, prayed, wept, gnashed their teeth and, waited. They waited so long -- by now his body was so stinky-- that the health department was called in . . .

And finally the immortal Father Divine was buried -- or what was left of him -- like any mortal man that came before him. And so another false prophet, pervert and criminal found the peace he did not deserve.

His missions closed, his followers lost like helpless lambs: no more heaven on earth, no more 20 course banquets, no more need for weight watchers, diets, and super strength elastic waste bands, for now his followers began to hunger. And in the end, all that was left was plenty of sex , a little tobacco, some alcohol, and a good nights sleep.

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Copyright ©1999 by Michael Hills ... all rights reserved.