When your enemy is distracted, fighting with each other, that is when you strike.
When those in your charge are breaking from Christ, that is when they are most vulnerable to the Devil.
These were the words on the pastor’s lips during an extravagant sermon that Sunday when Henry Brother, the father our Civil War Marine Charles Brother, determined to run for sheriff in Bath, New York. It was 1836.
His wife Mary Ann was pregnant and showing well, firm, and strong. He pressed his hand against his wife’s gloved hand in the pew next to him. He admired his young family.
All the girls had bonnets that were without wrinkles. His sons had their boots without mud.
Like a team of horses, they all would carry zeal for Christ, virtue, and commerce. Their spirit – and shiny things— would beautify the village and keep out the low-brow men who were set to strike with thievery, indulgence, and lies while the citizens of Bath were distracted by their wanting, sleeping, and labors.
Henry Brother understood human character and knew that this moment, while the politicians were distracted by the Erie Canal, land grabs, and lecturing each other with clever letters to the editor, and other talking heads, well, this is when he could surprise them all, with God willing, get in the game from the back door left open by the old, forgetful, or drunk geezers.
Mary Ann elbowed her husband, sending him cross eyes and then nodding towards her delicate hand, which was now being utterly crushed by her husband’s wicked fighting in his thoughts. She could almost hear his teeth grinding with schemes.
When he let go of her hand, he was surprised to have something soft come into his mind. He thought of his sister Ellen, who was terribly sick and failing by the hour. So young and sweet.
Ellen taught him how to read and to write in quick punches, saying enough to not waste people’s time. He promised God, right then and there, he would rush to her side, but after the election.