Deepening Convictions

1/6/1996

From the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven has been forcefully advancing, and forceful men lay hold of it.Matthew 11:12

33

GEORGE ARCHER SAT ALONE with his muffin and orange juice at one of the many tables in the hotel banquet room. He squirmed in his chair as he listened to the morning’s keynote address. Maybe I shouldn’t be here.

“And so this ties in well with our discussion about the twelve tribes of Israel. It’s a beautiful prophetic picture of the church today.” George bit his tongue as the speaker continued. “God is not calling us to drop our denominational names, close our buildings and become one big, happy church.” George scanned the room, feeling like a wet blanket in this eager atmosphere.

“On the contrary! Our individuality is an integral part of His grand scheme—”

“Brothers, if I might be bold for a second,” a voice challenged, “that is not what the Bible teaches!”

George snapped to attention, craning his neck to locate the lone voice of dissent.

“First Corinthians chapter one appears to be in direct opposition to the tribe teaching which is circulating today.” It was a young man, early thirties, with thick, light brown hair. “‘I’m of Paul,’ ‘I’m of Peter,’ and ‘I’m a Methodist’ is still sin — despite how much it’s in vogue today!”

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to refrain from further comments until the session is over.” A nervous voice reverberated over the PA system as the meeting’s moderator stood up beside the keynote speaker. “We would be happy to answer any questions you might have…in person, when the meeting is over.”

“Could that be a group discussion?” George called out, surprising himself with his forwardness. “Like my brother, I also have some questions about these issues.”

The moderator froze, trying to stay composed and maintain order. A lone voice of dissent is easy to politically outmaneuver, but this…He shot a glance at the speaker standing next to him, imploring his help.

“Go on, brother, continue,” the speaker cut in, rescuing his host.

“Well,” George began slowly, “I’m all for unity, and I’m glad there are people who want to do something about it. But let’s be realistic. A monthly pastors prayer breakfast or an ‘open’ weekly, city-wide morning prayer meeting is not the answer to Jesus’ prayer in John 17. Our barriers aren’t doctrinal — they’re heart issues. It’s our competitiveness and ambition that keep us separated from each other. It’s our pride, our self-centeredness, our unwillingness to deal with things that separate us from God and one another — in other words, sin.”

George’s eyes teared up and his voice began to crack. “If we would only learn to walk with each other every day, not as pastors, professors, and ‘leaders’, but as brothers, like Jesus said in Matthew 23, then we will have started to answer Jesus’ prayer in John 17.” His voice broke again. “A prayer that’s gone unanswered for nearly two thousand years. If we could only learn to lay aside our own agendas and walk in the light of exposure and vulnerability with one another, then unity would take care of itself. The parachurch substitutes which center on prayer or evangelism or missions or social welfare or ‘male bonding’ will never be the answer to Jesus’ heart cry for the Church!”

AS THE MEETING broke up, people milled around.

“I really appreciated what you had to say.” It was the man who had spoken up earlier.

George returned his smile. “Thanks. I was beginning to think I was the only one in here who didn’t agree with all of that.”

“Yeah, me too.” He studied George’s face thoughtfully. “Do you think it was okay for me to speak out like that? I mean…I wasn’t trying to be rude. I just didn’t know what else to do.”

“I don’t know if it was the right thing to do,” George began tentatively, “but I’m sure glad you did it. I’d been biting my lip all morning, not knowing what to do either.”

“Hey, do you have time to grab a cup of coffee? I’d like to talk some more.”

“Sure. I can do that. My first class isn’t until one o’clock today.” George took a quick glance at his watch and then extended his hand. “By the way, my name’s George Archer.”

The young man shook George’s hand firmly. “Good to meet you, George. I’m Wayne. Wayne Davidson.”

BZZZZZZZ. THE SOUND OF THE DRYER startled her. Amy jumped up and ran into the laundry room. As she pulled the last of the crackling, static-laden clothes into the basket, the telephone rang.

“Hello.”

“Hello, Amy? This is Carolyn. What are you up to?” she said cheerfully.

“Just finishing up some laundry. Why? What’s up?”

“Well, I was getting ready to go to the grocery store and wanted to see if you’d like to join me?”

“Sure! I’d like that. I don’t need anything, but I would love to be with you.”

“Can I pick you up in about fifteen minutes?”

“That’d be perfect. See you then.”

34

WAYNE LOOKED UP from the water fountain, a little worried his partner might pass out. Sitting down on the bench next to him, Wayne initiated cautiously, “You gonna be okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Just a little bit out of shape. Give me a second to catch my breath.” George caught Wayne’s eyes and laughed in spite of himself.

“Actually,” he admitted, “I think the last time I got this much exercise was back in my freshman gym class.” He noticed Wayne’s face. “I know, I know, that’s terrible.”

“Now wait. Don’t be too hard on yourself. Paul did say ‘bodily exercise profiteth little,’” Wayne teased. He stood up, wiped the sweat from his own neck and began stretching.

Fearing Wayne might suggest they return to the racquetball court, George asked, “So how’s the job hunt going?”

“Oh, slow.”

“You never did tell me why you’re leaving the ministry.”

“I’m not exactly leaving God’s work. I could never do that! I’m just trying to redefine my role in God’s work in a more Biblical way.”

“But you are leaving Hampton Street. Did something happen?”

Wayne nodded slowly, closing his eyes. “It was probably happening all along…but I never knew it.”

George waited for Wayne to continue. When he didn’t, George ventured, “Knew what? What was happening?”

Wayne rested his foot on the bench and leaned forward onto his knee. “God has made some things very clear to me. I found that a lot of the religious world draws near to Him only with their lips, but their hearts are far from Him — just as Jesus said would be true.” He looked into the face of his focused partner. “George, I had no idea of the extent to which worldliness and filth had filled the lives of members and even leaders!” He watched George for a reaction. “It’s almost unbelievable.”

“I think I understand. I’ve had my share of surprises recently,” George acknowledged with regret. “How people’s lives look on the outside can be very deceiving. But I still don’t understand why you’re leaving. How will that help? It’s the sick that need the physician, remember?”

“I’ve been asked to leave, George.” Wayne rolled his towel into a tube and looped it around his neck. “The rest of the leadership didn’t like what I was trying to do. They wanted a happy church, not a truth-centered one. I promise you, I don’t say this out of bitterness or sour grapes. My heart is as broken over the state of the Church as it would be if my wife were in a serious accident. But the truth is, when some of the evil among us was uncovered by God’s hand, and sin began to be challenged, the elders asked me to leave.”

George looked away. “I’m…I’m sorry that happened, Wayne.”

“No, no, don’t be. I believe it was God’s will. I’m finally beginning to see that there’s something wrong, something fundamentally wrong, with how the Church today functions —including the whole clergy/laity system.”

“I know what you’re saying, but that doesn’t mean you should leave the ministry altogether. There are a lot of problems, that’s true, but I think they’re due to a lack of deep relationship with each other. I mean, look at the Corinthians. These guys, as messed up as they were, at least had enough relationship among themselves that when they refused to eat with a certain brother, it nearly killed him.” George stood up, his energy returned. “See, it was their relationships that held them together and brought cleansing. Not quitting or over-reacting with legalism…but relationships!”

Wayne remembered the sermon he’d preached about the “Corinthian excuse.” He had emphasized that the Corinthians were committed enough to God and His Word to actually deal with the sin in that Church. However, it hadn’t occurred to him until now that their deep relationships gave them the very context they needed in order to bring about that kind of heart change in a terribly difficult situation. Something began to click in Wayne’s mind, and he gestured in excitement, “George, that’s it! That’s the difference I saw in Miami.”

“What’s it? What’s the difference? And what’s that got to do with Miami?”

“Until now, the main thing I’ve seen wrong with the Church today is that there’s no standard of righteousness being upheld. But that’s not the whole problem. Don’t you see?” He gestured with his palms. “There’s no vehicle. We can’t get there from here!”

“To Miami?”

“No, no. I’ll tell you about Miami later. It’s like you said, Church as a family provides the necessary relationships to live a life committed to Jesus. God never intended for us to do this by ourselves. Jesus said, ‘I will build my Church and the gates of hell will not prevail against it.’”

“I believe that, Wayne, which is why I think you should work from within the system, as an agent of change.”

“George, look at the current model of Christianity. Basically, it consists of a weekly worship service and a midweek Bible study. That’s about it, apart from some rare special events and perhaps some innovative small group program. All I can do is throw sermons at people. The Church needs a change of environment, not good messages. Our lives are scattered and individualistic. Let’s face it. ‘Church’ today is something you attend. It’s a place you hear a speech. It’s not a family. Not really.”

“Couldn’t you encourage Church members to pursue deeper relationships and not be just attenders?” George looked puzzled.

“I wrestled with that, but let me ask you this: How could I take a job as a speechmaker and hired leader, and then teach that Christianity which revolves around listening to speeches and being ‘laity’ is wrong? I just couldn’t reconcile those things.” He slapped the brick wall in front of him. “No. I don’t think I could teach the right things while modeling the wrong things. I don’t want to perpetuate a fraud — regardless of how many good things I might have to say.”

35

THEY CAME FOR DIFFERENT REASONS. Some came to say goodbye. Others came to see that things were done “decently and in order.” Some came out of respect. Some because it was Sunday. But all knew something sad was going to occur this day. Today the members of Hampton Street Church were here to observe the farewell sermon of Wayne Davidson.

After ten minutes of singing, whispers trickled through the auditorium as the congregation awaited the appearing of their pastor. As Wayne approached the podium to address the throng before him, his skin tingled. He felt a hundred eyes piercing like needles.

He carried with him a stool, which he positioned to the side of the pulpit. He sat down, attached a lapel microphone, took a deep breath and spoke. “Good morning.” The echoed reply helped Wayne to relax. This is it, Lord. Please help me. “If you were here last week, you’ve already heard my final sermon, because today I’m not planning to preach to you.” As Wayne enunciated “final sermon” and “preach,” he held his hands up and indicated quotation marks with his fingers. “This morning I’d like to do something a little bit different.”

At this, Tom Hartley spoke nervously. “Not anything too radical, Wayne, okay?” Tom’s half serious tone could be detected only by those who knew him best. Other’s, however, snickered at his pseudo-alarm. “We don’t want any trouble.”

Wayne felt compassion for Tom and, at the same time, sorrow that this would even have to be said. He was sorry about the whole sickening situation, but he saw it as a chance to share some of the vision he was catching.

“Don’t worry, Tom. No funny business. I promise.” Everyone laughed, relieved no toes were broken.

“What I’d like to do, instead, is just talk to you all. Somehow I want to express what our Master is doing in my heart and the direction I think He may be taking my life. If I could just plant a seed of some of the exciting things I’ve been seeing, then I think I can leave here with a lot more peace in my heart.” Wayne could see mixed expressions on the faces in front of him but he focused on the inviting smiles of the few soft hearts he knew were listening.

“I’m not going to give you an opening passage because, like I said, this isn’t a sermon. Mostly, I just want to share with you all, from the bottom of my heart, some of the core issues for all of our futures.

“There are certain things about following Jesus that are nonnegotiable.” Wayne scanned the sea of familiar faces. “Most of you got out of bed this morning, got dressed up, and came down to this building to worship with the notion that it was somehow related to serving the God that created you. Right?

“Many of you, I expect, if the truth were known, would sometimes rather be fishing, or golfing, or hunting, or sleeping or…name your thing.” Ed Lowrey risked a grin. “But somewhere inside of you, there is a sense of duty, or guilt, or something…that compels you to be a church-goer instead. Otherwise, why don’t we come together on Saturday mornings, also? And many other weeknights? I think it’s partly because we’ve turned the adventure of getting to know God into a lifeless liturgy. And, also, because it’s much easier to commit to a set of pre-established, predictable meetings than to live a totally devoted life.

“I’d like to leave you today with two clear thoughts to chew on for the rest of your lives.” He pronounced clearly the last words and waited for the silence to regather any wandering ears.

“First, Jesus called all of us, me and you, not to be church-goers but to surrender our entire lives into His hands. If Jesus is not the real-time Lord of our lives every day, then, by His definition we are not Christians. Christianity is not about attending church. It’s not about doing good deeds. It’s not even about living a strict moral life. It’s about giving your insides, your heart, away to the Person of Jesus of Nazareth and letting Him own your life. There really is no other kind of Christian life.”

Tom shuffled uncomfortably in his pew, looking discreetly for the others’ reactions as Wayne continued. “Anything less is only a religious mirage, like parsley on your plate in a restaurant — only there for decoration. It’s not really a part of the meal.

“Trust me, I’m not picking on anyone. I know how boring ‘church’ can be. I’ve been bored myself at times — even while I was talking.” A small chuckle erupted from the congregation. “But hear me out, please. None of us will ever really know the adventure of following Jesus for real, versus the boredom of religion, unless we surrender our own paths and follow Him on His Path. It’s like Jesus Himself said, we’ve got to lose our lives to find them.”

Wayne loosened his tie and stood up, one hand on the pulpit. “Now, the second thing I want to leave you with is something I’ve only recently glimpsed myself. But I’m becoming convinced that without this piece of the puzzle, we will never fully be able to walk out life with Jesus as Lord in anything other than a pledge of momentary commitment. A pledge that we never quite find the strength to live up to. It’s amazing but also very simple at the same time.

“Christianity—” he smiled and stepped down to the level of the audience, “is brotherhood and sisterhood and family; not meetings, and services and acts of worship. It’s none of those compartmentalized things. It’s about our lives belonging to each other on the grass roots level, day in and day out, seven days a week. Jesus promised a hundred mothers, sisters and brothers — deep, mutually dependent, daily relationships! Not second cousins and next-door neighbors!

“If that word ‘belonging’ scares you, it should! It’s a big commitment and it’s risky. But it is the way Paul described our level of involvement with each other.

“If we don’t have each other to laugh with, pray with, sing with, cry with; to shop with, work with, eat with; to share our faith with others with, serve with — day in and day out; then we’ve hardly begun the adventure of real New Testament Christianity.

“We are not a true Church unless Jesus is the core of our existence together. If every single member isn’t cultivating a deep, personal relationship with Jesus as a Person, then we are a department store mannequin, rather than a body. The Body of Christ lives in intimate friendship with the Living Jesus in vulnerable, walking-in-the light, confessing-sins-to-one-another relationships!”

He reached up and grabbed his Bible off the elevated pulpit. “Read the book of Acts which describes daily, consecrated, sermon-on-the-mount kind of living, and compare it with a typical week in your own experience of Church life. Will you do that?” He paused, looking into the eyes of those he knew best. “Take an honest look. Is there any resemblance?

“I’ve just started this journey myself, but the blinders are beginning to fall off and I’m starting to see a much bigger and better way of life. Let me beg each of you — not as a pastor, because I’m not one anymore in the professional sort of way — but as your brother and as your friend. Look Jesus in the eye from the bottom of your heart and give Him your whole life. It’s worth it!

“And please, let me also challenge you to search through your Bibles with an honest passion for reality and beg our kind Father to reestablish His Church on Earth — built His way and bearing His Fruit.

“Look through your New Testaments. You won’t find broken marriages, drug abuse, teenage pregnancies, gossip, slander, greed and out-and-out worldliness as an unchallenged, unchanging way of life. I know, I know, they weren’t perfect. There was sin, and problems did arise from time to time. But when it did come up, they didn’t sweep it under the rug. They looked it in the eye and dealt with it, as a family! To the Glory of God and His Son Jesus Christ to whom their lives belonged — lock, stock and barrel.

“Please, consider these things before our God. Don’t ever allow anyone to convince you to accept lukewarmness as normal, and holy devotion and death to the world system as radical. It’s Jesus’ only way for His entire Church. The gates of hell will not prevail if it’s His Church built His way.”

36

CAROLYN HEARD THE DOOR SHUT harder than usual and peered around the dining room wall to see who had just entered the house. Ted, breathing heavily, took his jacket off and tossed it on the sofa.

Carolyn went to greet him, but, noting his disposition, thought better of it. Ted broke the brief silence. “I think it’s finally starting to sink into my thick skull!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, I’m starting to think you’re right.”

“What do you mean?”

“And I’ve been too dull to see it because my heart has been hard.”

“See what? What happened?”

Ted collapsed onto the sofa. “I was with a group of men over at Brian Stephen’s house and overheard a flippant remark about Amy. One of the men was joking with Brian and asked him, ‘Are you getting fat or are you the second unexpected pregnancy in the neighborhood?’” Ted sat up. “What really burns me up is all the chuckles that followed.”

“That’s awful!” Carolyn sat on the edge of the sofa beside him. After a few seconds of silence, she asked hopefully, “Did you talk about it?”

“Yeah, I did. It ended up leading into a long discussion. By the time it was over, I was more upset.” Ted looked up and assured her, “I don’t mean more angry, just disheartened.”

“What did you say?”

Ted let out a sigh. “I asked them to be honest about what’s happened with Amy and to make sure we were sharing our portion of the blame. I suggested that what happened with Amy might be an indicator of a bigger problem. Maybe we need to consider our relationships and the overall quality of life we share. You know, a tree is known by its fruit.”

“Yeah, or maybe even closer to home,” Carolyn cut in, “as Jesus said, ‘Wisdom is proved right by her children.’”

“Exactly. And that maybe if we’d all been doing our job better, this would never have happened to begin with.”

“Did they disagree with you?”

“Disagree?! They thought I was crazy and idealistic to think that way! You know: ‘She’s young. It’s a college campus. Things like this happen and there’s nothing we can do about it. Why would you hold us responsible if Amy’s not wise enough to be careful who she falls in love with?’”

“You have got to be kidding!”

“It didn’t even seem to bother anybody that our own children are just as subject to the laws of probability and statistics as the rest of the world. Don’t we have any kind of edge at all over the world or the religious system? I mean, if daily Christianity doesn’t have any practical fruit, nothing more to offer than warm fuzzies around a bonfire…what’s the point?!”

A tangle of emotions battled within Carolyn’s heart. This shallow, worldly reasoning bothered her also. But she was overjoyed to see a fire burning in Ted’s bones and a light in his eyes. She felt both despair and elation.

37

MANY THOUGHTS coursed through Wayne’s mind. What am I going to do now? I’ve gotta get more resumes made. Both job interviews that Monday morning had gone terribly. He definitely wasn’t a car salesman. And his theology degree gave him no advantage toward a mortgage company job. Nice try.

Equipped with a red pen and a copy of yesterday’s classifieds under his arm, Wayne decided to sample Vito’s Italian Kitchen — looking for both a refuge to continue his hunt and a bite to eat. After being seated in a large wooden booth, he folded the paper into a more manageable size and began poring over the tiny ads, hoping to discover a new calling. The garlic and oregano seasoning the air were an almost unconquerable distraction. Wayne’s stomach contracted with each breath, sending an array of pangs through his torso. I’m starving. He scanned the restaurant, hoping relief would not be delayed long.

The dining room was large and open. Ceiling fans slowly churned the air over the checkered red and white tablecloths that covered the dozen or so round tables peppering the gray linoleum floor. The walls were protected by large wooden booths in which Wayne felt especially alone. The place was only half full, but it was beginning to receive more patrons as the noon hour approached. Wayne hoped the Italian food was as authentic as the accents he heard being bantered around in the kitchen. I like this place. I’ll have to bring Emily or George here sometime.

Knowing he would be helped soon, Wayne resumed combing the classifieds. Accounting. CAD. Carpentry. Carpet Cleaning. Customer Service. Hmmm. Wayne was soon in his own world, circling leads and weighing possibilities.

“Hi. I’m Tony. I’ll be ya waita’ today. Kin I tell ya ‘bout today’s lunch special? Today we gotta ham ‘n cheese stromboli witda vega’ble o’ the day ana bottomless soda o’ ya choice witta big piece o’ New York style cheesecake. Mm-mm. An’ itta only set ya back seven dolla’s. Pretty sweet deal in my book.”

The waiter stood ready to transcribe his patron’s order, but Wayne was held hostage by the classified ads he was combing, unaware of the request. Tony, realizing the customer had missed his introduction tried again. “So, you lookin’ for a ca’ or somethin’?”

Wayne looked up suddenly, realizing he was being addressed, as Tony continued, “I gotta great one outside. It’s a ’71 Chevy Impala. Great ca’. Clean as a whistle, runs like a cha’m. It’s gotta V8 witta…”

Wayne broke into a smile, enamored by his host’s enthusiasm. He was tall and solid, with a square, chiseled jaw, jet-black hair and a pearl-white smile. His appearance, combined with his stereotypical accent, made Wayne feel for a second that he might have taken a wrong exit and ended up in New York City’s Little Italy. “No. No, I’m not looking for a car.”

“Oh, I saw you lookin’ at the ads an’ thought maybe you might be need’n a ca’ or somethin’. Like my fadda always said, ‘Tony, strike while the iron is hot,’ see. Meanin’ you gotta take advantage of an opportunity when it’s dare, ‘cus it might not be dare tomorrow. Know whut I mean, uh…” Tony now held out his hand, gesturing for Wayne to reveal his name. Wayne was surprised at this young man’s overt friendliness.

“Wayne Davidson.”

“Hi. I’m Tony. Tony Veneziano. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Davidson.”

“You can call me Wayne, Tony. I don’t think I’m that much older than you.”

“Okay, Wayne. What can I getcha fa lunch?”

Wayne ordered with a smile, encouraged by the warm disposition of his new friend. As Tony returned to the kitchen barking instructions in his thick Italian accent, Wayne forced himself to resume the job search, intently combing the newspaper before him.

Ah, Lord, he sighed to himself. I really need a job. I’ve tried my best to be faithful to your voice. Now please help me support my family. I know it’s tough on Em and the children. Please teach us to trust you. Please open a door.

Wayne had hardly finished one column when Tony returned with a heaping plate full of pasta and meat sauce. Wayne could feel his mouth begin to water as his mind pre-tasted the food in front of him. “Well, ya betta put that paper down long enough to dig in while it’s hot,” Tony interrupted. “Like my fadda used to say, ‘Wasting a hot meal is stupid — but wasting a hot Italian meal is a capital offense.’”

Wayne let out a light chuckle, unable to conceal the effect of his waiter’s gregarious personality. “Are you having a good day or are you always this friendly?” Wayne asked, letting his guard down and joining in the spirit of Tony’s conversation.

“Ya mood’s up to you, right?” Tony retorted. “Well, why not have one that people enjoy? And ya find that you end up enjoying ya’self a lot betta as well.”

“I guess that’s a decent outlook. Let me guess. You learned it from your father?”

Tony’s eyes lit at the mention of his father. “Hey, you catch on pretty quick.”

In a few seconds, Tony was beckoned to the other corner of the room to aid another patron, and Wayne was left to enjoy his meal. The whole encounter was pleasant. It’s funny how your mood can change so quickly. It was only a few minutes ago that the weight of the world was on my shoulders. Now things don’t seem like such a big deal after all…An Italian angel, unawares? Naahh!

38

CAROLYN SAT PEACEFULLY enjoying the spring afternoon sun on the Harts’ front porch. As she gently glided on the family-sized swing, she watched a robin pecking in the dirt. The storms from earlier in the week had passed, and a cool breeze ruffled the pages of her book. She was admiring the large elm, scattered with fresh leaves, when suddenly the Harts’ station wagon roared into the driveway.

“Sorry I’m so late,” Marsha called over the half-open car door. She flew to the back of the vehicle and hastily loaded her arms with bags of groceries.

“Let me help you with those,” Carolyn offered as she got up from the swing. “Did you already drop off the milk for the Richardsons’?”

Marsha unlocked the kitchen door. “Yeah, and I couldn’t just leave her sink full of dishes…”

“How is Kathy?” Carolyn inquired, setting her bags on the table.

Marsha looked up from the refrigerator. “Well, you know how it is with five children around. I’m amazed at how productive she manages to be. Whew.” Her eyes caught the clock on the wall. “Already four o’ clock. I’d better get this roast in the oven. I don’t know how I’ll ever get things ready in time for dinner with the Stephens.”

Before Carolyn could say anything, Marsha was stacking plates into the dishwasher and pulling frozen vegetables out of the freezer.

“Marsha,” Carolyn said at last, “could we sit down for a minute? I really think you need a break.”

“Oh, Carolyn, I’m sorry!” Marsha said as she closed the dishwasher. “You’re right. We were going to sit down and read a chapter from that book, and I forgot all about it.”

Marsha dried her hands and followed Carolyn into the den. Plopping onto the sofa, she let out a long sigh. “Okay, what chapter were we on?”

Carolyn hesitated. “Marsha, slow down a minute. It makes me dizzy just to watch you.” She eyed the book in her hand, closed it and placed it on the coffee table. “It looks like you’ve had a really full day — we don’t have to read this chapter right now. Maybe we could just sit and talk.”

“Sure, about what?”

“Oh…about how you’re doing, maybe?”

“Me, oh, I’m fine.” She looked down, uncomfortable with Carolyn’s gaze.

“But what’s going on inside of you? There’s been so much happening lately — with Amy and everything. How are you doing with all that? You live at such a breakneck pace, but is there peace inside?”

“Oh…I don’t know. I don’t think about that much.” Marsha stopped rearranging the pillows on the sofa and thought back over her day. “I guess I am feeling a little frazzled. But there’s just so much to do, and I’m running behind.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way.”

“You’re right,” Marsha conceded. “I probably should plan things out a little better. Get an earlier start on my day.” She smoothed her apron, never looking up. “But it seems like there’s always something that comes up. Like today, if I hadn’t needed to stop for gas…Oh, well. It’s always something.”

“But, you know, Marsha,” Carolyn offered, “I was thinking more of how Jesus said that his food was to do the will of his Father. If we’re really busy with the Father’s will, it should be food to us. Not something that leaves us feeling empty.” Carolyn moved close to Marsha. “I don’t know, it just seems like you run yourself ragged trying to serve other people. And I appreciate your heart and desire to help, but I just wonder what it’s based on. Are you finding out God’s specific will for that moment out of relationship with Him…or doing good just because it is theoretically God’s will?”

Carolyn eyed Marsha cautiously, trying to guess her response. Lord, did I say too much? Am I spouting off about things that aren’t even real in me?

Slowly fingering the fringe of an afghan now draped on her lap, Marsha groped for words. “I don’t know what to say, Carolyn. I can kind of see what you’re saying, but it’s not like I just go around thinking up good things to do.” She collected the lint from the afghan into her hand. “I guess I’ve always been this way. I’ve been told it’s my gift. Besides, what’s wrong with doing good things?”

“It’s not that doing good things is wrong,” Carolyn began slowly. “What I’m talking about is walking the way Jesus walked. He said that even He could do nothing on His own. He only did what He saw His Father doing.” She paused a moment to collect her thoughts. “Marsha, I know that in God’s mind, nothing — absolutely nothing — is ‘good’ unless He is initiating it. I know that may sound deep, but it’s real.”

“But I just can’t imagine myself living any other way.” Marsha was beginning to regain her composure. “Carolyn, I really do appreciate you bringing this up and I will pray about what you said.”

At that moment, the phone rang. Marsha hurried to pick it up and was soon caught up in a whirlwind of preparations for dinner. By the time she returned to the den, she was her chipper self again.

“Sorry, Carolyn. Were we finished? I really should get dinner going now.”

Carolyn tried to hide her disappointment. “I guess so. Marsha, will you please pray about the things we talked about?”

“Of course,” Marsha answered, glancing at her watch. “Oh, no. I better call Susan Stephens. I haven’t told her what to bring.”

On the way home, Carolyn tried to make sense out of what had just happened. She’s my closest friend, yet it seems like we’re living in two different worlds.

39

“WAYNE, I DON’T UNDERSTAND. I have so many students. They study hard. They do well. Then I give them an ‘A’ and they move on.”

“So what’s the problem, George?”

“It’s just that…they know more about Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, but they’re really not any more like them than the day they entered my classroom.” George stared again at the long list of names in his grade book. “I want to see them change inside —so that they care about God and each other, not just their grades.”

Wayne nodded. Their eyes met, and George continued, “I can’t stand the thought of another semester drifting by while I only impart answers and information. I want there to be more. I want my classes to be more than another rung on someone’s educational ladder. It’s a deception.”

“I know, I know,” Wayne agreed. “I remember getting my theology degree. It made me think I was close to God and spiritual when, looking back on it, I don’t think I knew God, except superficially. And I was supposed to be qualified to lead others to know Him!”

Commotion in the hallway reminded George it was almost class time. He quickly shoved a few papers and a grade book into his briefcase and rose to tell Wayne goodbye.

Wayne headed out of George’s office with the professor right behind him. George started to hit the light switch when something on the wall caught his eye. He stopped and stared at the wall for a few seconds. Finally, he grabbed the framed document, tucked it under his arm and clicked off the lights.

“I AM NOT going to ride that elephant!”

“Come on, Carolyn. Are you going to let one bad experience ruin your daughter’s whole day? So, he sneezed on you last time. What’s the big deal?” Amy smiled playfully as they watched the passengers loading into the large wicker basket atop the feeding elephant.

“If you’re so concerned about Marie, why don’t you take her on the ride?” Carolyn held the baby toward Amy.

Amy patted her rounding belly and smiled slyly. “I would, but…”

Just then, Susan Stephens and Kathy Richardson returned with their toddlers from a bathroom search. “We’re back,” Susan announced. “Ready to move on to the dolphin show? It starts in fifteen minutes.”

“Saved by the bell.” Carolyn grinned. “We wouldn’t want to be late for the dolphin show.”

As they walked in the direction of the dolphin pavilion, Carolyn ventured a question, nodding toward Amy’s stomach. “So how are you feeling today?”

“Pretty good.” Amy leaned on Marie’s stroller as they passed the monkeys. “I’m definitely starting to notice the extra weight.”

“Look! Look! Monkeys! Monkeys!” Justin Stephens stopped the caravan of ladies and strollers to point out the antics in the monkey display.

Kathy and Susan moved toward the rail, while Amy stood back. “But the hardest thing is that it seems like everyone’s always looking at me.”

Reaching over, Carolyn gave her a hug from the side, gently pulling Amy’s head to her own.

“You know, Amy…” Carolyn leaned back and looked her in the eye. “One of the neat things about walking with God is He gives us opportunities to care about other people — in the middle of our own pain.” She winked and pointed with her eyes toward Kathy, Susan, and the children. “Wanna show Marie a monkey?”

Amy surrendered an understanding nod. Reaching to take Marie up into her arms, she answered, “I’d love to!”

CRASH!

The sound of breaking glass and a hollow thud stunned the wide-eyed students. Silence.

“What’s the value of a diploma?” George paced the front of the classroom, studying his bewildered students. “This isn’t an anthropology class. God isn’t an ancient relic we become ‘experts’ in!” Although he wasn’t angry, the terseness of his voice revealed an energy he’d rarely shown.

He sat on the corner of his desk. “If we aren’t brothers, if we aren’t devoted to each other, loving each other and helping each other find a real relationship with Jesus…this piece of paper is useless.”

Silence.

40

IT WAS A WARM THURSDAY evening and the saints had decided to gather at the Richardsons’. After spending the afternoon helping Carolyn with laundry, Amy had joined the Stones for dinner. The three now strolled with Marie toward the Richardsons’ place. Ted was sure he could hear “A Mighty Fortress” echoing from the open windows of the old house.

“Hi, guys.” Kathy greeted them quietly. “Amy, the younger folks are back in the den watching a video.”

Amy quickly caught Carolyn’s eyes to plead for a rescue. She hoped to avoid the awkwardness she felt around her peers.

“I think Amy was hoping to join us tonight, Kathy.” Carolyn smiled at Amy’s silent, wide-eyed thank you.

Carolyn headed upstairs to drop off Marie, where some of the younger children were being watched. Then she joined her husband and the loose, concentric circles of believers in the large living room.

They worshiped together for at least half an hour, then Brian spoke up. “Does anyone have anything on your heart to share with the saints tonight?”

Ted moved to the edge of his seat and waited, anxiously, to see if anyone would speak up before he began. “Well…if no one else has anything more pressing, I have a verse and some thoughts I’d like to share.”

“Go ahead, Ted,” the room invited.

“Well, it’s just a verse that Carolyn and I were reading and talking about a few days ago. It’s in Hebrews chapter three, verses 12 and 13.” He paused, allowing everyone time to find the passage.

See to it, brothers, that none of you has a sinful, unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God. But admonish one another daily, as long as it is called Today, so that none of you may be hardened by sin’s deceitfulness.

“I’ll explain why I read that verse in a moment.” Ted looked around, encouraged by the receptive faces. “Carolyn and I have done a lot of talking recently. During the last four years here, God has taught us some very precious things. It’s been great, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.” He took a deep breath. “But it seems like we spend a lot of time dwelling on our strengths, which is okay and can be encouraging. Yet, I wonder…” He looked over at Carolyn. “I wonder if we don’t need to spend at least some time considering our weaknesses. This particular thing has been a real difficulty for me…and others as well, I think.”

Brian shot Don Chambers a concerned look as Ted continued. “It has to do with true fellowship. Is our fellowship based on applying the Word of God with one another in vulnerability? Or is it just based on friendship? Do we care enough about each other to penetrate each other’s lives in personal and practical ways? I know for myself, I haven’t wanted to be vulnerable with other people.” Carolyn fought to conceal the smile emerging from her heart as Ted continued. “I’ve also fallen short in helping you. I’m very sorry for that. I’ve not been involved in your lives deeply enough to even be able to help if I’d wanted to. I couldn’t see your lives past my infatuation with my own life.”

The room was still and quiet.

“I think it’s possible to deceive ourselves into thinking we’re building Jesus’ Church…without really building on the rock of hearing and obeying the Word of God, as Jesus said. It’s not enough to have cookouts, spend a lot of time with each other, have heart-warming devotionals…yet still lose our teenagers to the world because we didn’t care enough to get involved or because we allowed the fear of confrontation to keep us from compassionately speaking up when we saw things that weren’t like Jesus.”

Ted breathed a heavy sigh of release and looked around the room. Brian seemed uncomfortable. But seeing Carolyn’s nod, and then Amy, gave Ted the energy to continue.

“You guys have known me for four years. I’m not mad at anyone. I’ve got no axe to grind. It’s just that I’ve seen the lack in my own life, and I’m sick of it. I want to care enough about you guys to speak up. I want to get out of my own life long enough to notice when you may have lost some fellowship with Jesus and to try to help.” He looked into the faces of those he knew best. “One of the things Hebrews three commands us to do is to admonish one another daily so sin won’t deceive us and harden our hearts. It doesn’t say that if we hang out with each other daily, we won’t be hardened and deceived by sin. Admonishing requires deep relationships, buried in loving and finding Jesus together. Not just friendships.”

Don, one of the community veterans, spoke up. “Ted, would it be okay if I interjected a thought here?”

“Sure, Don.”

“I think I know where you’re going with this, and believe me, I appreciate your heart. Over the years you’ve shared some very encouraging devotionals with us. I know things have been a little rough the last several weeks.”

Marsha gave a protective glance toward Amy, hoping Don wouldn’t say anything to hurt her.

Don continued. “Ted, when we talked the other day, I could tell you were in some turmoil.”

Carolyn’s heart sank.

“Let me give some Biblical examples that might help you see the point I was trying to make then. David was a man after God’s own heart, yet his children weren’t shielded from sin by his influence. Samuel was a man who was also close to God and his children were still susceptible to the world.” Don locked eyes with Ted. “So, what I’m trying to say is that sin is in the world and people are going to fall into sin because of choices they make individually. It’s a sovereign issue. Even Jesus lost Judas.”

Ted felt deflated by the airtight logic. Confusion swam on his face as Brian broke in. “Ted, if you remember, I was also there the other day, and I think one point that’s important to remember in all of this is that we can’t be each other’s Holy Spirit.” Brian sensed Ted waning. “Jesus has given each of us the Holy Spirit to convict us in regard to sin and help shape our character. When we try to usurp the Holy Spirit’s role, the result is legalism and nitpicky, sour relationships. It robs God’s people of their joy and stifles the freedom we have in Christ.”

An uncomfortable chorus of dissonant “amens” echoed from around the room. Carolyn fought discouragement as she looked into her husband’s eyes and noticed an absence of resolve. She felt a twinge of panic, and a barrage of accusations assailed her as the implications of what had just been said sank in. She quickly cleared her head, scattering the enemy’s attack on her mind, and listened intently to the rising fire within her.

“Um…would it be okay if I said something?” Carolyn raised her hand, still uncertain as to what she was going to say. She only knew she had to say something, and she hoped the flame burning within her was evidence of God’s supply.

“There’s a lot of truth in some of the things you are saying. Yes, it is true that Jesus lost Judas. A good environment alone won’t help a bad heart.” Carolyn looked right at Brian, who relinquished a reserved nod, then continued. “However, a bad environment can ruin a good heart. Paul said, ‘A little leaven leavens the whole lump’ and ‘Bad company corrupts good character.’ While it’s nobody’s intention to badger anyone, the legitimate danger of legalism doesn’t give us a license to ignore the clear commandment of Jesus in Matthew eighteen, the apostolic command of Paul in First Corinthians five, the command my husband read to us in Hebrews, and about fifty other passages that command us to take a proactive role in each other’s lives. We are commanded to deal with the enemy’s attacks on each other’s lives. Do we dare justify disobedience because of the difficulties of obeying — or because of our own guilty consciences?”

Carolyn could feel the heat on the back of her neck as she realized the eyes giving full attention weren’t all consenting. She swallowed hard and continued, returning their gazes one at a time. “The doctrine of not being one another’s Holy Spirit is popular but not Biblical.” She forced herself to look again at Brian, and the concern on his face only compelled her to continue. “It is true that the Holy Spirit does convict us of sin and helps us to grow, but that does not imply that we as believers don’t share that same role. Even the verse Ted read uses the same Greek word Jesus used to name the Holy Spirit when He told us to admonish one another daily. That’s what Church is — the Body of Christ ‘Holy Spiriting’ one another! Of course, we shouldn’t police or judge each other. But we must get involved as God Himself commanded, helping each other walk with God and remove the obstacles. Daily!

“As for David and Samuel…” She now turned to face Don. “I have no doubt that their families could have been entirely different had they grown up in a truth-filled, Jesus-centered Church. Surely, no one here believes that the New Covenant — the one Jesus died to give us — offers us no advantage over David and Samuel. If it doesn’t, then what is the point? Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Jesus and the Hebrews writer were all very clear that the New Covenant gives us an immeasurable advantage over those in the Old Covenant.” Don lowered his eyes, and Carolyn earnestly looked at the others. “No one in here would support the idea that the Church isn’t a better place to grow up in than Old Testament Israel! If so, then we’ve all just wasted the last several years of our lives and we might as well have stayed in pews!”

“Brian—” Carolyn was taken pleasantly off guard when Ted spoke up again. “You mentioned joy being lost by legalism. That’s a valid concern. Nothing stifles true, divine joy like living by the law. However, the only thing that is produced by living detached from each other — by not digging in and caring for each other — is a false, shallow joy. And that is a mirage! As the apostle Peter said, ‘Times of refreshing come from repentance.’ Not from superficiality!”

Brian’s eyes showed more than discomfort. He opened his mouth to intervene, but Ted persisted. “If we can live worldly lives, and still be ‘joyful,’ then that joy needs to be taken away because it’s not founded on reality. That’s what Jesus meant when He said, ‘I did not come to bring peace, but a sword, and to divide.’ That is not always fun on a superficial level.” Brian and Don shared disconcerted looks, each wanting the other to do something.

Ted continued climactically, “On the other hand, nothing brings more joy to the heart than seeing someone free from something that’s held them in bondage for years. Even the angels celebrate, the Scriptures say, when someone is rescued from sin’s chains.”

“Brother, brother, please,” another community old-timer broke in. “I think we all may just need to call it a night.” Brian and Don both relaxed as the older brother continued. “I’m not sure anything else can be accomplished in this format. These are foundational issues. It seems clear to me we are looking at two very divergent visions of the Church. One thing is for sure: we must decide which vision we’re pursuing. We can’t go in two directions. Let’s commit to resolving this at a later date.”

Relief filled the room as the idea to call it a night was readily embraced by most of those present.

For some, reality is an uncomfortable schoolmaster and honesty an uncomfortable companion.

41

WALKING DOWN THE HALL toward the faculty lounge, George noticed that the walls were now blue. He went inside and looked around the room. Hmmm. New furniture. When did they…

Just then, he noticed an odd heaviness in the air. It was quiet. Why is everyone looking at me? His eyes darted around the room. Spotting the professor of New Testament, he walked hurriedly toward him. “Bill, I’ve been meaning to get these books back to you.”

“Well!” He was stopped short by a boisterous British voice. “If it isn’t our beloved Professor, back from the hallowed halls of the student center to mingle with his peers!”

“What?” George stared in bewilderment as several other teachers joined in laughter.

“Why, George,” said one, smiling and searching his peers for support, “what made you decide to grace us with your presence today?”

“The student cafeteria must be closed,” answered a sparsely-haired history professor seated across the room.

George looked around in disbelief. These were his friends — he had thought. Unsure how much of this was in fun, he just stood there. Maybe I’m being too sensitive. Noting his discomfort, most returned to the food in front of them.

Bill broke George’s silence. “You know, we have missed seeing you in here.”

“Things have changed, Bill.” George smiled, feeling a warm tug at the memory of years of camaraderie with Bill and others. “I’ve been trying to invest more in the students. That is why we have this job, you know. I think that’s what they pay us for.”

Bill was four years younger than George, though his tenure with the college was almost as long. “I appreciate your care for the students, George. It’s commendable. I’m just concerned with how you are going about it.”

“What do you mean?”

Bill clasped his hands together and stared over George’s head. “There is a generation gap I think you’re going to have to learn to cope with. Students gain stability by learning to function in a world with structure. You’re the teacher. They’re the students. By changing those roles, you don’t help them. You only confuse them more.” He lowered his gaze to George’s face. “A student shouldn’t have to decide, when he sees you, whether to call you George or Professor Archer. By compromising your position of authority and replacing it with familiarity, you lower our position of authority as well.”

George’s puzzled look prompted Bill to try again. “I know you feel bad about the Adams boy. We all do. But demeaning the role of professor because you feel guilty about a student isn’t going to solve anything. Exceptions don’t change the need for a stable norm. Do you understand my point?”

George’s puzzlement became resolve. “I think I follow your reasoning.” His voice was calm, but firm. “Now, what if Jesus would have operated under that same premise? Let’s think about it. Wouldn’t His purposes on Earth have been better served if He had spent his time collaborating with the Pharisees and teachers of the law or simply emerging to offer an eloquent oracle on a regular basis.” George raised his voice a notch. “Rather than violating ‘order’ and living with fishermen.” Conversations in the room stopped. “Who knows, he might have even saved himself a crucifixion.”

42

TWO WEEKS HAD PASSED since the difficult meeting at the Richardsons’, and life in Pine Ridge had become noticeably stilted. Alan and Marsha Hart were distressed about Amy. Marsha was a nervous wreck, fretting about Amy’s future there, and Alan had grown weary of the whole ordeal.

Meanwhile, the tension with the Stones continued to mount. Ted and Carolyn tried to keep things simple and clear, but their honest attempts to care and clear up misunderstandings were only making matters worse.

Some of the leading families in the community were discussing these problems. As a group, they typically reveled in their diversity — wanting each person to live by his own, Spirit-led convictions — provided, of course, they stayed within the framework of traditional orthodoxy. But this situation was different. Ted and Carolyn were not content to “agree to disagree.” To them, Truth was not relative, and obedience was not the enemy of freedom.

The conversations that had filled the past days were going nowhere. Something more needed to happen. In fact, Brian Stephens and Don Chambers had an idea they thought just might make everyone happy…

“CAROLYN, THEY’RE HERE!” Ted flung open the door and beckoned his guests inside. Eagerly leaving the spring wind behind them, Don and Brian bustled into the hallway.

They exchanged awkward pleasantries as Carolyn collected their jackets. Once they had settled into the living room, Brian started the ball rolling.

“Thanks again for agreeing to talk on such short notice.”

Ted succumbed to a nervous grin. “Well, it was plenty of notice. But you didn’t tell me what was on your mind. I must confess my imagination’s been working overtime all day.”

Ted looked over at Carolyn and caught her knowing glance. Brian, not sure how to respond, looked to Don for help.

“Well…we don’t want you to feel like this is some sort of disciplinary thing,” Don reassured. “We just wanted to follow up on our recent conversations.”

Ted nodded.

“Now I realize that the last couple of weeks have been intense, and I don’t want to put you on the defensive,” Don pursued slowly. “But we’ve been thinking a lot about our future together and what would be best for the community and for you.” He scooted forward on the couch. “We’ve got an idea that’s evolved for several reasons. It may sound kinda crazy, but at least hear us out.”

Brian picked up where Don left off. “Alan and Marsha Hart are worried about their daughter, and we’ve been trying to help them find a solution. I guess it’s been sort of hard on her living at home, with the older teens around. Awkward glances, whisperings, that sort of thing. You know how kids are.”

Carolyn shot a pleading eye at her husband. They don’t get it, do they?

Ted opened his mouth to protest Brian’s last statement but was cut short as Brian continued. “Anyway, they’ve been wondering if there was some place Amy could go, you know…to sort of get away from things for awhile.”

“So what does that have to do with us?” Carolyn’s face betrayed her discomfort with the direction things were headed.

Don used his most diplomatic tone. “Well, a couple things. For starters, we know you and Amy have become pretty close recently, and it just seems like…” Don stuttered as the controversial thought reached his tongue.

Brian finished for him. “It seems like you guys are embracing a different vision for the Church. One that we’re not sure we’re going to be able to meet for you.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess we have a sort of sinking feeling you’re just not going to be happy here.” His voice faltered as he continued slowly. “What would you guys think about moving out of Pine Ridge?”

Tension, the kind Don dreaded most, squeezed the individuals in the room. Carolyn slipped into the kitchen to find a tissue. She then stood in the doorway, leaning against the jamb.

Ted looked up after staring past his shoes for a long sixty seconds. The two men in his living room wished they were elsewhere.

Finally, Don made an effort to console the Stones. “I’d like you both to know that this is just a suggestion. It’s entirely up to you.”

“And the Lord,” Brian chimed in.

“Right. After praying about it, you might decide to stay. And that will be fine as long as you can stay with a spirit of unity, understanding the direction of the community. But we do think you guys should consider this as a possibility. It might be helpful for Amy and the Harts.” Don longed for the perfect thing to say.

“Ted, Carolyn,” Brian ventured, pausing until he had looked them both in the eye. “We want you to know we love you. And we’re committed to you unconditionally.”

Ted nodded soberly. “You’ve certainly given us plenty to think about.”

“Well, take your time. You don’t have to decide anything right now. And again, it’s completely up to you. I hope we haven’t upset you too much, Carolyn.”

“I think we’ll be fine,” Ted said.

The two men left in silence. Ted and Carolyn felt awful.

43

ERIC WATCHED IN AMUSEMENT as George’s old Continental pulled into a parking spot at the end of the lot. Gathering up his backpack, he hurried over to meet the professor.

“Welcome ashore!” he quipped as George locked the doors.

George looked puzzled. “What?” Then, following Eric’s gaze to his large automobile, he laughed. “Oh, if you think she looks big now, you ought to see her with the sails up.”

George followed Eric into the tiny diner. As the screen door slammed behind them, the aroma of greasy hamburgers assaulted the professor. The ceaseless drone of the shake mixer reminded him of his last trip to the dentist.

“I wasn’t sure I had the right place,” George said as Eric perused the menu by the cash register. “I thought you said the Ice Rabbit.”

Eric looked up. “This is the Ice Rabbit. Only place in town with seventy-five different flavors of shakes.”

“Then why does the sign say Frozen Harry’s?”

“Because,” Eric replied with a sly grin, “The Ice Rabbit is Frozen Harry’s. Get it? Frozen Hare…Rabbit?”

An older woman with her hair wound into a painfully tight bun closed the carry-out window and sauntered over to the register.

“You boys ready to order?”

Eric pulled out his wallet. “My treat this time,” he winked. “I’ll have the three-piece chicken basket and a large shake.”

The woman reached into her hair-bun and produced a pen. After several sharp dabs onto her tongue, she scribbled his order on the pad. “What kind of shake will that be?”

“Make it a chocolate strawberry malt with mint and pineapple.”

George grimaced.

“And you, Sir?” She looked at George.

“Oh…uh…I’ll have the same. Only make mine a vanilla shake.”

The two friends found a booth in the back corner, next to the video games. George consoled himself with the thought that they could move if someone came in and started playing.

“So, how are classes coming along?” Of all the students George had tried to invest in this semester, Eric was the only one who returned the investment.

“Pretty good,” came the jaunty reply. “My political science professor made us download an article off the Internet this morning. I got on and back off as fast as I could. Big Brother really is watching, you know. They don’t call it ‘the web’ for nothing. You know, like a spider’s web? Serious danger!”

George smirked. “You’re really serious about this government conspiracy thing, aren’t you?”

Eric tossed his head to the side, “Oh, it’s not the government that scares me the most.” His face grew sober. “It just seems like every time I’m on line, there’s a claw reaching out of my monitor, trying to pull me in to that web of filth and perversity.”

The woman called from behind the counter, “Your order’s ready!”

Eric sprung to his feet and went to get the food, returning with two colorful plastic trays balanced one on top of the other. He hurled himself into the booth, carefully eyeing the packet of margarine in George’s hand.

“You know that stuff’s plastic, right?”

George looked up in disbelief. “What?”

“Yeah, it’s a petroleum product. They take vegetable oil and blast it with hydrogen molecules until all the nutrients are stripped off. That’s why those packets aren’t refrigerated. No nutrients, no spoiling.”

Eric brushed a hand across his ruddy bangs, then rested his chin on his palm, smiling up at George.

“I never thought much about it,” George returned.

“Just an observation,” Eric spouted as he opened his own packet and spread the contents on his roll. George folded his hands and waited. For him, this was the awkward part of every meal.

Eric, noting George’s discomfort, folded his hands in like manner. “Are you thankful?” he asked.

“Yes, I am.”

“Me, too.” With that, Eric seized a big piece of fried chicken and bit into it with enthusiasm.

George chuckled quietly. “So, Eric, how are things going with your new roommate?”

“Oh, a lot better. I think we’re getting used to each other by now.” Eric wiped his mouth on a paper napkin. “Besides, those ear plugs I’ve been wearing to bed are terrific! I can’t even hear his stereo at all.”

George swallowed hard to keep from spewing his shake. Clearing his throat, he managed to say, “I’m glad you’re getting along.”

“Yeah, hey, thanks for the prayers. For a while there, I really thought one of us was going to have to move out.” Eric tossed a chicken bone into a nearby trash can. “Say, is there anything I can be talking to Father about for you?”

George’s face took on a serious demeanor. “Actually, there is. I just mailed another letter to Rick.”

Eric’s eyes narrowed. “Did he write you back last time?”

George shook his head. “No. I’m not even sure he read it. But I just wanted to try again.”

Eric was convicted by the pain he saw in George’s eyes. “Do you want to talk to Jesus about that now?”

44

“NIGHT, NIGHT. Daddy loves you.”

Ted kissed his little Marie on the cheek and softly closed the door. Carolyn was waiting for him in the den, a stolid figure perched on the sofa like a cat waiting for some rodent to scurry by. He looked at her and laughed.

“You look about as sober as the losing team at a homecoming game.”

Carolyn smirked, pretending not to be amused. “Could you sit down for a minute, Honey? I’d like to talk if we could.”

“What about?” Ted invited as he sank into the cushions next to her. He thought he heard the faint rumblings of thunder off in the distance.

“I just…I’m just not sure about leaving the community. Maybe Don and Brian are right about Amy. Maybe it would be better for her to get away somewhere, at least for awhile. But, I just can’t imagine being anywhere else but here. Who would we talk to? Where would we go? It scares me!”

Ted placed his arm around her shoulders. “I know, Honey. All our friends are here; the people we’ve spent the last four years of our lives with. I can’t imagine just leaving them behind like all this never happened.” He turned her face toward his. “But you know what’s even harder for me to imagine?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s even harder for me to imagine staying here and just pretending everything’s okay when it’s not. It wouldn’t be real.” His voice became animated. “And we wouldn’t be able to grow any further if we had to live under this unwritten rule that says you don’t touch my life and I won’t touch yours.”

It was beginning to rain. The two sat in silence, enjoying the euphony of wind and droplets, before Ted continued. “At the same time, though, I don’t really want to go, either. I love these guys. Besides, where would we go? And what would we do? Place membership at some church building? I’m open to that, but I just can’t see it happening. Why would God want us to go into an even more mixed and diluted environment?”

They sat quietly for several moments, listening to the rumbling storm. Carolyn looked out the window. “Would it be okay if we talked about it with the Creator of that thunder?”

“Sure.” Ted sat up and placed his head in his hands.

“Please, God,” Carolyn began, “show us what to do. We’ll follow You anywhere, no matter what it costs. But we can’t bear the thought of striking out on our own, apart from You. To whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. Please make it clear. Make it obvious. We’re so dull — we need help to hear Your voice.”

THE NEXT DAY at Washington High School, Ted headed back to his little office in the East Gym. The last health class of the day was over, and his duffel bag held a stack of tests expecting to be graded. Why grade today what you can put off until tomorrow? This was the part of the year that Ted endured, for the most part, until football practices started up in the summer.

He pulled open the gym door, shivering a bit at a cold blast from the vent overhead, and charted a course to his office. What did Carolyn want me to get at the store? Was it milk or juice? A little note was taped to the outside of his office door. He fumbled absently with his keys as he read it:

CALL MR. REED AS SOON AS YOU GET IN.

He tossed his keys onto the desk. Reed…do I know anybody by that name? He pecked out the phone number that was scratched on the paper.

“Hello, Northeastern High School, front office. This is Betty. Can I help you?”

Ted was caught off guard. Northeastern High School? “Uh…yes, you can. This is Ted Stone from Washington High School. May I speak to Mr. Reed, please?”

“One moment while I ring his office.”

Strange that a school from the city would be calling me. Wait a minute, this couldn’t be Logan Reed, the principal, could it? I wonder what he wants? A voice brought Ted to attention.

“Hello, Ted, this is Logan Reed. Ted, I’m glad I caught you before the day was out. Thanks for returning my call.”

“Sure, Logan. I’m a little surprised by your call.” Ted scratched his head.

“Certainly, I understand. I’ll get right to the point.” He cleared his throat. “I watched your season with Washington High this year, and I must say you gave the rest of us in the conference a good scare.”

“Thanks.” Ted beamed. “We had a good bunch of boys.”

“Yes. And you’ve done a fine job with them. Your efforts as assistant coach have especially shined through. That defensive line of yours is a WALL!”

Ted enjoyed a smile to himself. “Thanks for the compliment. It was hard work, but it’s been worth it.”

“I can tell you work very hard, Ted. As a matter of fact, that’s why I’d like you to consider coming to coach at Northeastern next year.”

Ted was stunned.

“We have put together a good program with a strong coaching staff. We just need the right person to steer the ship.”

“Excuse me, are you offering me the position of Head Coach?” Ted hoped his excitement was not too obvious.

“Now, I know it’s a big decision. I don’t expect you to accept right now. Go home, have dinner, talk it over with your wife. But get back to me in a couple of days.”

Ted grabbed his keys and headed out the door, duffle bag and papers forgotten. His thoughts were racing ahead of his feet. By the time he reached the car, his mind was at home breaking the news to Carolyn.

So we just ask Him a question and He answers it? Just like that! Do you really think this is God’s way of showing us what to do?

In his mind, Carolyn nodded her assent.

This is great!! God’s alive! Does anybody else know about this?

45

WHY AM I SO NERVOUS? Lord, please grant me peace. George’s thoughts became clearer. The anxiety began to dissipate. He breathed a sigh of gratitude. Thanks.

The silence was startling as his echoing footsteps ended in front of a closed wooden door. “Arthur J. Kincaid, D.Div., Dean — School of Religion and Missions.”

The door swung open, revealing a spacious, red-carpeted reception area. The gray-haired secretary, busily transcribing a letter, looked up just long enough to point in the direction of the dean’s open door.

The dean looked up from his Bible as the creaking floor signaled George’s arrival. “Well…hello, George. Good to see you.” He pointed to a high-backed, red velvet chair against the wall. “Please, have a seat. What can I do for you today?”

“Well…” George calmed the butterflies in his stomach, “there’s something I’ve been thinking and praying about for several weeks, and I want to ask for your support.”

“What is it, George? Sounds important.” Dr. Kincaid leaned forward in his chair, stirring the sound of Naugahyde.

“I’ve decided to leave the Bible department.”

“George!” The Dean took off his glasses. “Are you resigning?”

“No, no.” George shook his head. “I’ve applied for an opening in the history department.” George moved his chair closer to Dr. Kincaid’s. “They’ve agreed to accept the transfer if you are willing to release me.”

Dr. Kincaid arose and turned to gaze out the window. After a moment, he turned to face George. “Can I ask why you want to leave?”

“I…don’t want you to take this the wrong way.”

“George, we’ve known each other for over twenty years. Be frank with me.”

“Arthur, my conscience just won’t allow me to continue in my position.” George chose his words carefully, not wanting to hurt his colleague and friend. “God’s Word is not a subject I can teach and test on anymore. God is a Living Being, not an essay topic.” George turned his gaze away from his superior. “For all these years, I’ve tried to serve God the best I know how. Well, now this doesn’t seem like the best way to change lives anymore.”

“George, you have served God well, and I believe you’ve had more of an impact on students than you realize. In fact, if you really want to help them, I can’t imagine a better situation than here in the Bible department teaching them God’s Word.” Dr. Kincaid sighed. “Please don’t abandon the students. They need men who care about them like you do.”

“I’m not abandoning the students. I’m just trying to change my role in their lives. I want to be able to walk with them as a brother, to seek the Living God with them, not just be an expert on things about God. As a Bible teacher, I can tantalize their brains and challenge their reasoning, but that doesn’t help them purify their hearts and become friends of God.”

The dean walked over to George’s chair. “George, I know what you mean. Teaching them facts about God won’t, by itself, help them know God better. But these facts serve as a foundation. How can they know God if they don’t know facts about Him. Bible knowledge is important and it shouldn’t be trivialized.”

George watched as the dean made his way back to his own chair. “I know it seems crazy.” George took a deep breath, realizing the communication gap between them was more than word choice could remedy. “But can you see that treating God like a subject — on the same level as history or trigonometry — is immoral? Bible knowledge is not the enemy. Jesus, Peter, Paul…they all knew the Scriptures well. But Jesus didn’t teach classes. He called men to follow Him, to walk by His side.”

Dr. Kincaid clasped his hands together. “Now, that’s a strong statement. Be careful not to condemn the profession that has carried you all these years.” He put his glasses on. “I believe I know some of what you’re feeling, George. And I believe this is a decision you’ll come to regret. But, because I care about you and because you seem convinced, I will release you.”

With that, Dr. Kincaid pulled out a piece of department letterhead and began to pen a letter. After two lines, he looked up. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“I have no choice. I must obey God.”

46

SEVERAL WEEKS LATER, in another part of the city, the Stones settled into their new home.

“I think I’ll head on up to bed,” Amy called over her shoulder as she awkwardly ascended the stairs, not yet accustomed to her growing frame.

Carolyn smiled inwardly, grateful that Amy seemed to be adjusting to their new life together under one roof. “I’ll be heading up there myself in a few minutes,” she answered, reaching to lock the front door. Out of habit, she reached with the other hand to flip off a light switch that didn’t exist. I keep forgetting this isn’t our house in Pine Ridge. She surveyed the room and considered unpacking one more of the boxes still lingering since the move. Just one box, she told herself, five minutes.

Twenty minutes later, Carolyn climbed the stairs. Thinking she heard Marie crying, Carolyn headed for her daughter’s room. Wait, that’s Amy! She paused at the door for a moment, then decided to knock. “Amy? Are you okay ?”

Hearing no answer, she slowly opened the door. Light from the hallway streamed in to reveal Amy, sobbing with her face buried in her pillow. Kneeling beside the bed, Carolyn gently placed her hand on Amy’s arm. “Amy…”

Amy composed herself, then lifted her head, shielding her eyes from the light. “I feel like a banished woman, sent away because everyone’s embarrassed or ashamed of me.” She caught Carolyn’s concerned look. “Not that I don’t like being here with you and Ted. I do.” Amy shifted around, struggling to sit up, “And I don’t like being fat!”

Carolyn listened patiently to Amy, simultaneously lifting her own thoughts. Lord, show her Your mercy.

“It’s more than all that,” Amy went on. “Carolyn, ever since I got pregnant, it’s become more and more clear that something is missing, something is wrong.” Amy shifted again, trying to get comfortable. “It’s not just tonight. This is something I’ve been thinking about for a long time. I see something in you and Ted, the way you talk to God, the way you talk with each other…God just seems so real to you.”

The strain and anxiety on Amy’s face were evidence of the turmoil raging inside. “What’s wrong with me?…My parents treated me great. We studied the Bible all the time. They tried to protect me from the world…” Tears were streaming down Amy’s cheeks now. “Carolyn, I want to be on the inside what my parents taught me to look like on the outside. Getting pregnant wasn’t just a mistake…something was missing inside me. If it was missing six months ago, then it’s still missing now.”

Jesus, Carolyn’s heart cried, You are the Answer for all our needs. Please give Amy the answers she needs tonight. “Amy, talk to God. Open up to Him and tell Him what you’re feeling. He wants a relationship with you.”

“Carolyn, I’m not sure that I’ve ever known God at all the way you speak of Him. But…for the first time in my life, I really want to. I need Him, and I’m desperate to know Him. I’m just afraid I never will.”

Carolyn wrestled in her heart, searching for an answer. “Amy, who do you think Jesus is?”

“Well, He’s God’s Son—”

“Wait…stop. Don’t just answer out of your head. Think about Him — as a person — and tell me who He is. No clichés.” Carolyn smiled reassuringly.

Amy pulled her pillow tight against her. “I’m not sure I know. I know He’s your Lord. I’ve seen the way you yield your heart to Him. But I want to know that for myself.”

“Amy, is it possible that all your life you’ve learned about Jesus and His ‘rules,’ but you’ve never really met Him yourself?”

“Yes, that’s it exactly,” Amy responded with a note of certainty. Carolyn had put words on what she was already feeling. “But, how do I get to…meet Him?”

“Amy, have you asked Jesus to show Himself to you? To show you Who He is and how much you need Him and how much He loves you — really? Remember, He’s a person, not just some ‘higher power.’”

“No, I haven’t. Not directly. But I will.”

Carolyn left Amy in silence and went downstairs to wrestle with God on behalf of Amy.

Amy slid to the floor and soberly turned her face toward Heaven in a real, honest attempt to find the living Jesus and unveil her heart. She began to realize how often her prayers had been shallow and empty. Though it was subtle, she had chosen to stay on the surface of things to avoid having to face the darkness lurking inside her.

It had come to the point where the mounting pressure in her heart from the sin and guilt was too much to bear. With tears streaming down her face, she finally let go of herself. Pushing past her pride and fear, she spoke honestly with God about her sin and her deep need for Jesus. Through broken words, she agreed with God, “I didn’t slip into sin accidentally. I chose it. There’s no one and nothing to blame but me. And I’m so, so sorry, God. Please forgive me. I want You to live with me and to make Your home inside me. I want You to be the Ruler of my heart. Please help me not to hide behind my shallow personality anymore.”

AMY GENTLY ROUSED Carolyn from the couch. “Carolyn, can we talk?”

“Oh…Amy. I must have fallen asleep. Yes, we can talk.” She sat up and rubbed her eyes.

“Carolyn, I asked Jesus to show me how much I needed Him.” She started to weep. “All I could think of after that was how awful I’ve been. All the unforgiveness toward the people at Pine Ridge. The anger with you. The whining attitudes with Mom and Dad. The pregnancy.” She shook her head. “Carolyn, I’ve done some awful things. I’ve hurt Jesus a lot.” She began crying even more. “So I told Him…to His face…I was sorry.”

A smile held her face. She looked down at Carolyn. “Jesus is the Son of the Most High God — He is the King of the Universe — and He will forgive me of all my sin.”

Carolyn, too, was crying, singing in her heart.

“I want to give my life to Jesus! I want to be His friend — and I want Him to be my Lord.”

They talked for several more minutes before Carolyn went to wake Ted. Though sleepy, Ted was elated to hear Amy wanted to give her life to God.

“She wants to be baptized tonight. Do you think we can find a place?”

“This late?” Ted asked.

“Yes! Amy said if people in the Bible were baptized in the middle of the night, she doesn’t want to wait either.”

“Well, I do still have a key to the pool at Washington High.”

“Do you think it’s okay to use it?”

“Sure. I still work there for another week.”

“Okay. I’ll go tell Amy.”

“Great. I’ll call Alan and Marsha and tell them the good news.” He reached for the telephone on the nightstand. “I’m sure they’ll want to meet us there.”