"Have you found our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ?" the smartly dressed young missionary said to the man at the door.

The tall, gray-eyed man shot a glance to his right, then looked back at the missionaries. Without a word, he stood aside, and gestured for the two young men to come inside. He directed them to one of two old but comfortable looking couches on either side of a coffee table, then sat down across from them, his hands folded in his lap.

Then he just sat there, saying nothing.

The missionaries looked at each other. The first missionary cleared his throat. "So, I'm Micah, and this is Stephen."

The man nodded.

"We'd...we'd like to tell you about...um...about the Lord." Stephen added.

The man made a gesture that seemed to invite them to proceed.

"Well...so...uh..." Micah began, awkwardly, as the man continued to stare. "Jesus--"

The man glanced at the corner of the room again, then held up a hand.

"Wait." the man said sharply, bringing the young missionary up short.

He stared at a point on the wall next the front door for a few moments, occasionally nodding, then turned back to his guests.

"He says you need to work on your technique," the man said flatly.

"He...?" Stephen said, looking from the man to the empty corner.

"Jesus Christ," the man said, gesturing to the corner.

"Um, you're...you're saying Jesus is here?" Micah asked, hesitantly.

"Obviously." the man replied. "For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them." He gestured to the missionaries in turn, and then to himself. "One, two, three."

"But--" Stephen began.

"But what? But that's just a metaphor? But it doesn't really mean that?" the man asked, calmly. "Does it not? What if it means exactly what it says? That right now, He is present here. That in this moment, the eyes of the everlasting Logos, the seven-horned and seven-eyed Lamb that lives and was dead, are resting upon you, beholding not only what you say and do, but what you think, what you feel, and all that you have ever done or ever will do."

The shadows in the room seemed to grow long and deep as the man spoke, as though cast by an impossibly bright light. "How do you bear up under the gaze of Eternity? What will you do? Fall to your knees, like Moses? Run and hide yourself, like Adam in the Garden? Will you be burned to ash? Turned into a pillar of salt?"

Moments later, both young missionaries burst out of the man's front door at a run. He appeared in the doorway a moment later, and watched their retreat.

"Good," he said, after a moment. "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom."