The Capacity To Act

​The Capacity To Act
​ANONYMOUS MOVING IMAGES

God provides the capacity to act, but not the action itself.

God’s "tools" aren’t just distributed to individuals in isolation, but to humanity as a collective.

If a higher power is responsible for the distribution of tools, that distribution is undeniably unequal.

The "image of God" refers to the soul, the consciousness, and the capacity for love and dignity.

​It was a Friday night, and the local parish was quiet. Masses and confessions were over for the evening, leaving the church shrouded in a misty silence. Outside, a taxi waited.
​A priest walked out of the church carrying an overnight bag. The driver had done this before and was sworn to secrecy. As they drove off into the night, the priest changed out of his clothes in the back seat. The taxi would return to pick him up in a few hours, guarding the priest's bag until morning.

​To be human is to be a sinner.
To confess is to be forgiven—at least in one's own mind.

​When the priest entered the club, the venue was alive, and women were pole dancing on stage. His favorite waitress arrived with his usual: Hennessy on the rocks. The priest scanned the room, looking for a potential hookup. He bought a drink for a young woman sitting away from the spotlight, and she graciously accepted it. But as he walked over to start a conversation, they both froze.
​The priest had just bought a drink for the nun who teaches kindergarten. It’s hard to describe the shock they felt when their eyes and lips locked.

​The following morning, the priest read the headlines: Young woman found slain in hotel room. The police had already started their investigation.

The morning paper felt heavy, but the priest’s hands were completely steady. He sat at his desk, his expression a mask of absolute calm as he stared at the bold, unforgiving ink:

Young Woman Found Slain in Hotel Room.

​His mind was clouded in the neon glow of the club, the blur of the music, and the alcohol.

​Was it the nun, left exposed after their tryst? Was it his favorite waitress, who knew too much about his secret life? Or was it someone else entirely—a stranger caught in the crossfire of a completely different sin?

​A heavy, deliberate knock rattled the oak door of the rectory, echoing through the empty church.

The police were here.

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