Religious I-conThe wind was whipping around the graveyard of St Tydfil’s Parish Church, with Autumn leaves being tossed around by mini-cyclones, as if they were paper planes.Pastor Selby-Date tried to open the heavy wooden door of his Church but the force of the wind was too much.He had to put down the King James Bible that he carried around for emergency purposes.In Merthyr Tydfil, South Wales you never knew when the Holy Book would come in handy, as either a shield or as a weapon.As he pushed his shoulder into it- he was shocked to see a gaunt looking face staring back at him.Without a second thought, the wan stranger slid in through the narrow opening of the door of the Ancient Church.Pastor Selby-Date was a little scared at the intrusion – after all, this sacred spot was rumoured to have been the place where Tydfil the Martyr was murdered and he was conscious of the phrase ‘history has a nasty habit of repeating itself’.The man’s face was a similar shade of colour to that of the interior vestry walls- magnolia.He too clearly had a habit- as he was stick thin and looked as if he could have ‘snapped’ in the high winds outside.He was red around the eyes, as if he had taken something recently and was not fully aware of what day of the week it was.He looked almost as dangerous as Johnny Depp’s dogs, Boo & Pistol and the Pastor was still uncertain as to whether or not to let him into the Sanctuary.Pastor Selby then had a divine revelation- that he should not Judge the man before him- as his Saviour Jesus Christ had looked not dissimilar to the man with his straggly beard and thin frame, hanging on the wall of his Church.The Pastor plucked up enough courage to speak to the man- being alone without a mobile phone or any of his usual congregation to help in the event of trouble.“ I am sorry My Son but the Church is closed!” said the Pastor.“ But it is SUNDAY!” protested the shivering stranger.He only had a ‘trainspotting live’ tee-shirt on his torso , as he clasped his thin fingers around the energy efficient wall-light bulb- desperate for some warmth.“ This church closes at 10.00pm but reopens tomorrow at 11.00am!” announced the Pastor in his best sermon voice.“ Closed …even to receive this?” asked the stranger.He produced from under his tee-shirt a small bowl resembling the top of the Chalice of Valencia.“ What is it?” asked Pastor Selby.“ Don’t you know what it is…..call yourself a Man of God?” asked the Strange pointing to his dog-collar.“ What is your name….friend….?” asked the Pastor nervously.“ I have many names….I have street names…I have my Birth name!” said the stranger.“ One would do!” said the Pastor looking at a member of his Parish flock with suspicion.“ Renton!” replied the stranger.“ Evening…Renton… I am Pastor Selby-Date ….or Louis to my friends and parishioners!” said the Man of the Cloth –a little more relaxed-no longer touching cloth.“ Louis…Pastor…?” replied Renton….” I am sure he was a druggie too like me!”Pastor Selby looked at the pustule covered face and scratch marks on Renton’s face and began to worry again that his physical body was once again in peril.If someone disrespected their own body this way- they obviously had even less regard for other people’s wellbeing.“ So what is it exactly?” asked the Pastor.“ You already KNOW what it is….look inside your own soul !” said Renton.“ It came to me this Morning- its religious significance that is…when I found it surrounded by a corona of light …atop two videos of Indian Jones & the Last Crusade and Monty Python’s first feature film!” said Renton.“ I must say you are very eloquent for a heroin addict!” said the Pastor.“ Thing is….Louis…I wasn’t always a junkie….there is always a sad tale behind each fall from grace!” said Renton.“ That’s true…do go on!” said the Pastor.“ I was married in this very Church in 2015- shortly after you re-opened and re-solemnised this Medieval Church….did you know there has been a Church on this site….for over 1500 years…?” asked Renton.“ I am new to the Parish….but I knew it was quite old!” said the Pastor.“ Well this Church is where I originally found this cup buried ….in the external alcove near the Chancel!” said Renton.“ Thing is…before my fall from Grace- by the wife that was the name of my nagging Wife…Louis…I was a local Politician and shop owner…I was in all the right organisations that control the Town…the Freemasons, the Royal Order of the Buffaloes, Tesco and of course the Knights Templar…!” the shivering drug addict continued.“ Go on!” said the Pastor with his interest having been piqued.“ My Real Father was originally from Scotland- he met my biological Mother on a rugby trip many years ago and in his Will, he left a series of startling revelations which left me so confused that I turned to drugs….imagine finding out that the man that reared me, Irvine Welsh, for 23 years was not my real Father at all…it was like Paula Yates all over again…..luckily my Father wasn’t Hughie Green …he was called Vincent ….anyway he didn’t leave me any money but he did leave me a series of Medieval Documents with various clues therein….I trust you understand that when ‘Opportunity Knocks’ ….you have to take it…!” eulogised Renton.“Irvine told me that my real Mother was called Rosslyn Chapel…but I could find no trace of her in Merthyr’s Births, Deaths & Marriages records!”.“ He left me with a family trail that led from the Middle East to Rome, Spain, France, Glastonbury Tor, Scotland and then to the South Wales Valleys!” continued the addict.“ Irvine once told me that I am descended from someone called Joseph of Aromatherapy!”“ I followed the series of clues that my real Scottish Father had left me and together with some cyphers and cryptographs and it led to this very cup buried in the consecrated ground next to this Medieval Church and was being used as a surface water gully pot…Da Vinces’s Code…led me to the very ancient Holy relic!” said Renton.“ So you think that this cup…is… THE Holy Grail?” asked the open-mouthed Pastor.“ Well , the Church World-wide has a history of being duped into paying fortunes out for religious artefacts and then creating pilgrimages to the Churches housing such relics….but I think it was definitely involved in the Last Supper!” said Renton.“ I have compared it to the painting by Leonardo Da Vinci and it is identical to the bowl in front of Jesus Christ on the long table!” the addict continued.“ But Leonardo Da Vinci wasn’t present at the Last Supper was he?….he wasn’t one of the 13 disciples was he….!” Said the Pastor.“ So you think you are some sort of Bible expert do you?” asked Renton.“ Well..I am a Pastor , went to Bible College and was ordained and have studied the Word of God all my life!” said the Holy Man.“ But have you ever REALLY read it….after taking two bags of magic mushrooms…I had it narrated to me by the voice of God…and yes…he really does sound like Morgan Freeman!” said Renton.“ And you have found this ‘San Greal’ from your ‘habit’ of ‘drain-spotting too’?” asked the Pastor suspiciously.“ Well….I suppose you could say that!” replied Renton.“Sorry to be a ‘Doubting Thomas’ but if this the One True Grail from the time of the real Christ…don’t you think…even in this poor candlelight….that it wouldn’t have writing on its side?” continued Louis.“ What writing…where?” asked Renton.“ Or this face of what… looks like a tiger?” said the Pastor.“ I can make out the letters…F.O.ST..S!” the Preacher said turning the bowl.“ It probably stands for Father of Saint someone or other!” said Renton.“ I forgot…you are good at cracking enigma codes and things…. but what about that tiger?” asked the Pastor still not convinced.“ Well they did have them in Mesopotamia and the Ancient Ur Valley…and that is close to the Holy Land….didn’t that Old Testament bloke get slung in with a few?” continued Renton.“ I believe you are referring to the story of Daniel in the Lion’s Den!” said the Pastor.“ Yeah…but there COULD have been some tigers in there too!” said Renton.The Padre remained sceptical.“ Look it doesn’t really matter if YOU don’t believe it is genuine….it is what YOUR CONGREGATION believes that counts…surely that is what your church was built on….FAITH?” pleaded Renton sitting down on a wooden bench.“ Good point!” said the Pastor.“ Good publicity for the Church too….put a few more bums on pews eh?” said the Pastor…” No offence like!” said the Pastor realising what he had just said.“ None-taken…that’s the Holy spirit….now all that is left… is to haggle over the price…!” said Renton.“ Well I don’t like to talk shop in the Church itself- especially in front of the Holy Grail…remember Our Lord wasn’t ’bowled’ over by moneychangers being in the temple!” said the Pastor.“£100.00…cash!” offered the shivering Renton – going cold turkey – and not only because of the frozen chicken he had shoplifted from Farm Foods was affecting his nether regions.“ That’s very cheap for the REAL grail!” said the Pastor.“ Are you calling me a liar?” snarled Renton.The Pastor thought discretion was the better than valour.“ Of course not….If you are a gambling man…why don’t I offer you what is in this sealed box in exchange for the relic…this congregation collection box COULD be rammed with cash ….we had a big funeral here of the last Merthyr business man this week…?” offered the Pastor.“ And there is some nice lead flashings up on that roof….got to be worth SOMETHING!” he said throwing some more consideration into the deal- but fully ‘cogniSaint’ that the Church of Wales was well insured- unlike him.After a five second Mexican stand- off, the Holy Grail was thrust into the hands of the Pastor in exchange for the collection box and Renton was gone quicker than funeral mourners past a collection plate.The Pastor bolted the heavy wooden door behind the druggie who disappeared into the night he had appeared from.“ How much did you get for the Frosties bowl?” asked his accomplice Sick Boy as they sat on the Lucy Thomas Fountain steps.Levering the box open- he replied angrily- “ £3.75, some Polish coins and three buttons!”“ That’s GRRRREat!” said Sick Boy.“ Let’s go to the Constitutional Club and buy a bottle of cheap imported Polish vodka that we can drink through our eye sockets again!”“ Now that’s a REAL I-Con!” replied Renton

updated by @philip-evans: 01/28/16 09:55:06PM