An ocean of hatred had washed over the once quiet town of San Latzio. Two distinctively radical schools of thought had entrenched themselves deep within the community, creating a sharp division between the beliefs of the townsfolk. On one hand, a devoutly religious congregation, and on the other, a purely scientific, technologically driven perspective. An unquestionably prominent tension had risen, with both sides prepared to set the town ablaze in a firestorm of fury.
The Reverend sat at the front table of a local pub. It was well known for its exquisite vintage wine as San Latzio's gold standard, alongside being notoriously hard to find.
Perhaps his acquaintance had lost themselves while looking for the dimly lit alleyway the bar discretely resided in.
Just as the Reverend prepared to leave, a figure emerged from the pub's door. The candle-lit flames of the bar illuminated a plain white coat, and an eccentric, recalcitrant hairstyle. He was an amateur inventor, seeking fame in a world overcome by greed.
"Ah, Reverend! Forgive me for my lack of punctuality, I managed to enter the wrong pub!"
"Not to worry, my friend. Please, have a seat." The Reverend gestured to the empty seat opposite to his.
As the Inventor took a seat, the Reverend signalled the bartender. "Two glasses of your finest wine, please."
The Inventor looked in shock. "Reverend, you overestimate my financial status. I simply cannot afford such quality wine." "Luckily for you, my friend, I'll be paying for your drinks tonight. It's the least I can do to return your gratitude. I'm sure you could've spent this time on much more pressing matters."
The Inventor smiled. He wasn't expecting such a kind, generous demeanour from a devout Christian.
Growing up in a heavily conservative family meant dealing with religion was difficult. His father's numerous lectures on a youthful Inventor's lack of piety pushed him into the sciences, and away from the embrace of God.
"Well then, Reverend. To what do I owe the pleasure of discussing with you today?"
"The church is getting very rundown as of recent years. Just last week, a loose ceiling tile nearly sent me to God!" The Reverend joked.
The Inventor let out a heavy sigh. This was the religious zealot he had come accustomed to as a citizen of San Latzio. One that could not go more than two sentences without mentioning God.
"Interesting. Any ideas for what I could do to assist you, Reverend?"
"Sadly, as a man of God, I lack the creativity to produce ideas. I am a preacher, not a thinker like you."
"Fascinating," the Inventor replied in a surprised, partially elated voice, "in that case, I have many suggestions on how to improve the quality and prestige of the church. Have you considered a medicinal clinic? Evidence shows an increase in ailments uncured due to religion."
"Nonsense!" The Reverend exclaimed in a burst of impulse. "The Lord has a plan for all of his children. To artificially cure is to go against the will of God."
"Well then, does God have no heart?" The Inventor violently snapped. "How could he condemn children to death?"
A deathly silence engulfed the table. Both men were standing up from their chair, anger consuming their rationality.
A sharp red flame smouldered in the Reverend's eyes, only to be extinguished by the sight of a familiar face.
A middle-aged man walked through the pub's door. A dirty white smock spreading dirt and vegetation on the bar's floor, it was as if he had just arrived from a farm.
"Reverend! Fancy seeing you here!" The man spoke as his lifted his brown hat from his head.
"Ah, James. I have the honour to meet you once again."
The Reverend paused. He did not know how to introduce the Inventor, he knew all too well James' opinion on science.
"You look familiar. Where have I seen your face before?" James inquired.
"He's a deacon at a neighbouring church. We've been discussing his duties." The Reverend responded.
"Hold on. Aren't you that sacrilegious heretic that goes against the will of God? What do you call yourself, an 'inventor'?"
"How dare you!" The Inventor exclaimed. "Just because I don't buy all this illogical, made-up nonsense about religious, does not mean you can insult my title."
"Some title. You take pride in being an arrogant fool, grasping at wheat straws when God has the answer."
"Who is the true fool, someone who investigates and analyses for their truth or one who takes 'truth' from the mouths of liars?"
"My God! How dare you insult the Lord!" James shouted, as he grabbed the Inventor's glass of wine and held it up towards the Inventor's head.
"That's enough!" The Reverend shouted. Both men recoiled in shock, as they had never seen such a pious man release so much anger. James dropped the glass, causing it to shatter into a thousand fragments.
A subtle peace filled the almost desolate pub.
"My friend," the Reverend spoke, breaking the silence, "would God appreciate you harassing another one of God's children?"
"And you," the Reverend turned to the Inventor, "is it rational and logical to argue over topics such as religion?"
"Now, James, please pay the bartender for their troubles in replacing the glass."
Without word, James drifted towards the bartender, softly apologising.
"Thank you, Reverend." The Inventor finally spoke. He had never felt such respect for a man of religion before.
"I have an idea, for your church."
"Brilliant, I'll get your funding to you as soon as possible."
The two would meet frequently after their first encounter. Working together, they would improve the Reverend's church while earning the Inventor the fame he desired.
The idea of science working alongside religion spread, bringing peace and prosperity at last to San Latzio.
