The Miracle Woman

I wonder what's keeping him.

You wouldn't be in a hurry either if you'd been fired, would you?

The Reverend Fallon was not fired.

Look, here comes his daughter.

This morning my father was to have delivered his farewell sermon to you,

but he has been ill, as you all know,

and today he cannot be with you.

But he dictated his sermon to me, as he has done for so many years.

I have it here, and I'm going to read it to you.

"Friends, I leave you today after a score of years in this church

as a servant of the Lord, to whom I pray

that he may let words of my mouth

and troubled meditations of my heart be acceptable in his sight.

I have baptized many of you in the Lord's grace,

a few of you I have joined together in marriage,

and over the bodies of some of your loved ones,

I have spoken the beautiful, triumphant victory

that comes with the Lord's salvation.

I would dearly love to stay as your pastor for the rest of my years,

for I had hoped to live and die at this pulpit.

But you have seen fit to call another,

a younger man to guide and serve you.

And though I leave you, I do not leave the Lord.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.

And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

When the heart is thirsty, there is drink in the Testaments:

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures.

He leadeth me beside the still waters.

He restoreth..."

That's as far as he got.

This is his farewell message to you.

You see that he stopped in the middle of a sentence.

My father is dead.

He died in my arms five minutes ago,

before he could finish his message to you,

but I'm gonna finish it for him. Miss Fallon,

the news you bring is painful, but I hardly think it proper...

You're the head deacon of this church, Mr. Simpson,

and I want you to listen to what I have to say,

because it's your clique that started all this trouble.

Leave if you like.

My father preached to empty hearts. I don't mind talking to empty pews.

My father is dead, and you killed him!

You crucified him just as surely as he was crucified.

He died of disappointment, of heartbreak, of ingratitude.

He gave his life to serve you and when he was old and worn

you threw him out.

You all came to this church in automobiles. He always had to walk.

He didn't even leave enough money, after 20 years of service to you,

to buy a burial in a decent cemetery. There, there.

This is not the time nor place to speak of such things,

and I must ask you to remember you are in the house of God...

What God? Whose God? Yours?

This isn't the house of God, this is a meeting place for hypocrites.

You're out of your head, and I, for one, will not listen to such...

Well, go on, get out!

You've been running this church, but I'm gonna run it for the next hour.

I'm gonna preach the sermon my father should have preached.

The Bible says the labourer is worthy of his hire.

But you wouldn't pay your pastor what you pay your chauffeurs.

I've worked for you too, without pay.

I've served you by helping him, and you've got to listen to me.

I don't have to make any notes either.

I was brought up on the Bible, and I know it by heart.

I'm gonna take my text this morning

from chapter 23 of the Gospel of Matthew.

And I say unto you as Christ said to the scribes and Pharisees,

"Woe unto you hypocrites, for you devour widows' homes,

and for a pretence make long prayers."

You're crazy, woman. Get out of that pulpit!

You're crazy, yourself. Give it to them. I'm with you, Florence!

Who among you is poor in spirit?

Who among you mourns?

Which of you is merciful and humble?

Some of you have listened to my father for 20 years,

and you can't remember one word he said to you, but you'll remember this:

You subscribe to temperance,

and I can tell you the names of your bootleggers.

You pretend to be decent. I know which of you are cheating

wives and husbands.

Shall I call out your names?

What are you running away from? Are you afraid of the truth?

Is that why you got rid of my father?

You are thieves, killers, adulterers, blasphemers and liars

six days a week.

And on the seventh day, you are hypocrites.

Go on, get out, all of you!

Get out, so I can open these windows

and let some fresh air into this church.

Attababy! Attababy!

What do you want? Believe it or not,

I'm waiting for a train to take me out of this town. Hornsby is the name.

I blew in this town by accident.

And I don't mind telling you that I was thinking all the things you just said.

This trip looked like a double zero to me,

but I've got a hunch that it won't be a blank after all.

I'd like to have a talk with you, Sister.

Leave me alone. Get out of here.

Pardon me for horning in, Sister.

I heard you say there wasn't money enough left

to give the reverend a decent burial.

I'm pretty well-heeled, and if you'll let me...

No, thanks, I can manage.

Don't get me wrong.

I know I've got no right to crash in here at a time like this.

But if there's anything I can do...

Have you sent for your people?

I haven't any people.

That's tough.

I know how you feel.

What are your plans?

I haven't any plans.

Gee, you were sure great out there.

But you were knocking your head against a stone wall.

So was your father.

What did it get you?

What did it get him?

After what you slipped them in the church a while ago,

I don't suppose you wanna hang around here, do you?

Where do you figure on going? Oh, I don't know.

Please go. There's nothing you can do.

Well, sorry.

Thought I might be able to help, that's all.

Thanks for being so kind.

You ought to listen to me, Sister, because we're both in the same boat.

I've got no plans either.

No profession, no belief and no limit.

But I have got one thing:

A way to get along.

And it works.

You think you beat those people out there just now, don't you?

Well, you didn't. They beat you.

There's only one way to lick a mob. Join them.

Now, wait a minute, Sister. Let me finish.

You're not a hypocrite if you admit it.

The thing is, be on the winning side. Play percentage.

Most of the trouble in this world comes from people who have convictions.

The answer is, don't have any.

If you have none, you can assume the ones that happen to pay.

You're sore at those people because they fired your old man,

and it killed him. You wanna get back at them, don't you?

Well, I can tell you how to do it,

and get famous and get rich and what's more...

get even.

Interested? I'm listening.

Okay, now let's get organized.

First of all, what do you know? You know the Bible by heart.

You can pull nifties out of it like raisins.

Your old man was a preacher.

And you've got hot spiel in your blood.

It was born in you. You've got to do something with it, don't you?

Now religion's like everything else. It's great if you can sell it,

no good if you give it away. Now, let me prove it to you.

And I bring you the promise and pledge

that God's in his heaven, and all's right with the world.

Oh, my dear ones, I can't see you,

but I can feel you all around me.

Thousands and thousands of you tuning in on Station G-O-D, God,

on a wavelength that carries his blessed words

to the furthermost reaches of the universe.

Just as the little microphone before me

carries my voice to your ears...

Mrs. Johnson!

Do you mind turning that radio down a bit?

The Lord broadcast to you on a universal wavelength

that penetrates the hearts and souls

of those who are ready for his program.

I come to you with a joyous message...

Come in. It's me, Mrs. Higgins.

Give me a minute to catch my breath, Mr. John.

Some mail for you.

Letter or parcel?

Parcel.

But you never can tell a book by the cover, I always say.

I'll open it for you.

It's the songs. They've come back again.

There's a letter too.

It's from the Ziegler Music Corporation, Songs that Sell.

"Dear Mr. Carson..." I know, I know.

"We regret that they're unsuitable for our present needs

and are returning them herewith. Thanking you," and so forth, and so forth.

That's right.

They're always nice about it, anyway.

That's from Ziegler, you said? Yes.

Well, we've sent them out from A to Z.

After Z, what?

X, Y, Z... Nothing.

Well, here goes nothing.

Now, you mustn't get too discouraged.

Oh, what makes you think I'm discouraged?

I know what would cheer you up:

A good cup of coffee.

Now, you sit right there while I go and make it for you.

You've been pretty nice to me, Mrs. Higgins.

I'll remember you in my will.

I'll be dead and gone long before you make your will.

The trouble with most people is, they're quitters. They're yellow.

The moment they're put to any sort of test, they cave in.

The difference between a man and a jellyfish