Epilogue Episode 1.5: The Priest

Epilogue is a series of short stories following the final moments of different people in a singular location at the end of the world. Season one follows the passengers on a plane travelling from Brisbane to Hobart.

Part five sees Mark, a Catholic priest grappling with a crisis of faith, questioning his life choices in the face of imminent death. He wonders if everything he gave up was worth it and what he can do to help as the end approaches.

Is this meant to be punishment?

The thought struck Mark in the midst of the chaos, with his head tucked down and his hands pressed against his skull. He’d assumed the brace position before he had even been instructed to, not long after the screaming started. It had been only moments more before he heard the flight attendants shouting instructions over the madness and noticed the passengers on either side of him following suit.

If this is a punishment, it seems cruel to bring everyone else down with me.

Mark was a priest. A Catholic priest, specifically. Although, at the time of his flight, he wasn’t sure if that would be the case much longer. It was hard to say what changed for him. Perhaps it was his inability to accept the crimes of his church. Or maybe it was his increased frustration with all the evil in the world that people just seemed to accept. He had questions his faith struggled to answer.

Now his plane was going to crash and everyone on it with him was probably going to die. It seemed almost comically in line with the vision of God he was starting to develop. Let a few hundred people die to punish one priest questioning the faith? It wasn’t hard imagining the God - who was happy to let millions of innocent people die from disease, famine or war - being willing to do that. It would certainly explain the red hue of the sky. He could practically hear the booming, deific voice in the back of his head:

“You did this to them. If you had stayed true to your faith in me, this wouldn’t be happening to all these people. Now you will learn the price of such a betrayal.”

An all powerful God couldn’t also be pure and good while letting an accident like the crash happen. Maybe humanity was just an amusing experiment; a child frying ants with a magnifying glass. Or maybe there was no greater power out there and all of what Mark was experiencing was simply a coincidence. That made plenty of sense too.

So what was the point of it all then? Mark wondered. What did I dedicate my life to if it was going to end here like this?

There had been a time when Mark’s faith was the most important part of his life. He grew up religious and had wanted to join the priesthood since he was a kid. He’d worked to achieve that dream. There had been comfort in his belief, in the idea of a higher power and God’s plan. There had been a sense of belonging that came with his place at the head of his congregation and in the church’s community. Everything had felt so right then.

Now, in the face of death, Mark just felt cynical. He felt like a fool who had wasted the little time he had left on a fanciful dream. There were so many experiences he had denied himself. So many people who he’d let drift out of his life when their lifestyles ran too counter to his beliefs and values. He’d spent so much time praying to a cruel deity who either didn’t love him or didn’t exist.

Now he was sitting hunched over in a plane, waiting for that wasted life to come to an end. It was like a cruel joke. The moment he realised how much of his life he didn’t truly live, that life was going to be taken from him. Once more, he wondered if this was divine retribution for his dying faith.

He could just about believe that.

Mark wondered how many of the people on the plane were currently praying to a god who wouldn’t save them. Were they like him, doubters? Were they non-believers who would try anything as a Hail Mary? Or, maybe, they were truly devoted and found a genuine sense of peace and comfort in their desperate words.

He wished he could still count himself among that last demographic. It wasn’t that he had become a nonbeliever, it was just that his faith was no longer strong enough to outweigh his regret or his fear. But, perhaps, there was still some good that could come from those wasted years.

If there was a plan that put me here, a good plan, what would it be?

Mark almost smiled. If he was put on that plane to fill a role, then that job had to depend on the knowledge and skills he had. There was only really one thing Mark knew how to do. He took no comfort in thoughts of God anymore. He didn’t really believe that he was put on the doomed plane for a grander purpose. But, if he was, there was only one thing it could be. Regardless of whether it was God's will or merely an unfortunate coincidence, if he could give other passengers even a taste of the security and warmth he once felt from biblical text, then maybe his presence there was worth the cost.

Mark searched his mind for the right words. It was hard when the plane was still dropping, now banking to the left so much he was being pushed against the passenger to his side and stretching his seatbelt.

As a priest, Mark often had to oversee death beds and funerals. It was a grim task, but he had always taken pride in the peace he offered the suffering and grieving. It was that experience he tried to draw on in his own final moments, dragging the scripture from his memory like it was his lifeline.

What Mark managed to bring to the forefront of his mind was perhaps not perfect, but it would do. He started reciting from Revelations, stumbling over some of the words as he struggled to remember them through fear and lack of practice. Usually he had a book or notes in front of him when he gave a sermon. 

“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away” was the exact passage that had come to mind for Mark. He started reciting from as far before as he could remember and, once he reached the end of that passage and his memory ran dry, he simply started again.

Perhaps Psalm 23:4 would have been the more appropriate, if a little cliche. But that segment from Revelations had always been a verse that he had appreciated and found comfort in. It was also his go-to for providing comfort to others nearer the end.

The passage would fulfil its purpose in Mark’s eyes one more time.

Even as the rattling of the fuselage and the screaming of the passengers grew louder, Mark continued to recite that same scripture over and over. It came easier and easier, to his surprise. He found a measure of truth in it, regardless of his faltering belief. Soon, their suffering would be over - one way or another. Whatever end awaited them, Mark expected they would all die quickly.

In that, there was a little comfort to be had. Though, to Mark’s surprise, far more was to be found in fulfilling his self-imposed duty. He found that even in the face of imminent death, if his words eased the fears of even a handful of those on the plane, he could be at peace with himself.

Whether his lifetime of faith and servitude has been based in reality or fiction no longer mattered to Mark. What did matter was that in those final moments, he could be certain that his time had not been wasted. 

He would worry if his God was waiting for him on the other side when he got there.