Jesus Freaks: Sins of the Father

Bridgette sits to my left, her brother next to her. He leans forward to speak. “You’re right. But the thing is, the university has asked him to address their new students. The incoming class. It’s like they’re accepting him on a whole different level. Trusting him to talk to the most vulnerable minds on campus.”

My scrunched eyebrows appear to give away my confusion. Bridgette deciphers Silas’s excitement. “What he means is…there’s talk that this is a signal that the university is loosening up a bit. If they’re letting a left-ish evangelical pastor address the freshmen—the first Message we’ll hear at Carter—maybe they’re ready to take a look at some of their outdated practices.” She shrugs and pulls out a Bible and a pen from her purse.

Uh-oh.

Seriously. Of all the ways I planned for this moment—my first service as a CU student—I couldn’t remember my Bible? Granted, bringing one’s own Bible to church where I come from is unnecessary. We use the Book of Common Prayer and scripture readings are printed on a leaflet handed out at the beginning of the service. I knew Bibles were used during these services, but thought they’d be provided. Looking around, though, I see that was an error in judgment on my part.

I look to Bridgette almost pleadingly, only to find her scribbling notes along the edge of one of the pages in her Bible. I didn’t even realize you were allowed to write in that book, let alone in the purple pen Bridgette seems to fancy. Wiping my dampening palms down the front of my skirt, I begin looking around, certain a Bible will turn up somewhere. I mean, of all the places in the world for one to drop from the sky, you’d think this would be it.

“Is everything okay?” a familiar voice to my right questions.

Looking up, I find Jonah, who had been in conversation with Eden and someone else they seemed to know from summer camp, taking a seat next to me.

I take a deep breath.

He smells like soap.

Stop.

“I…uh…I forgot my Bible,” I offer as I press my palm into my forehead and close my eyes.

He delivers a soft chuckle. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s kind of a big day.”

“Everyone keeps saying that,” I remark with a sigh.

“Aren’t you excited? Pastor Roland is like a rock star.”

My eyes open wide. “What?”

Jonah’s face turns serious as he puts up his hands. “I mean… I don’t… I don’t like idolize him, or anything. I just… I respect the way he’s helped the students here, and across the country, reach Jesus.”

It takes me a minute to realize how nervous I’ve made poor Jonah. His intensity around the word “idolize” reminds me that these kids aren’t supposed to hold anyone or anything in higher esteem than God.

Not their parents, not their future spouses, and not their future children. No one.

Well…we. We aren’t to hold anyone higher than God. I wonder when my “me vs. them” mindset will change.

Do I even want it to?

Shaking my head, I try to calm Jonah’s nerves. “No, I didn’t mean that. It’s just…I’m from Connecticut,” I concede with a sigh. “We don’t hear much about…all of this. I’ve never had to bring a Bible to church before, either, which is why…” I hold out my hands, which are spectacularly empty.

Jonah’s easy grin returns. “Here, use mine.” His tanned hand extends toward me, grasping a thick soft-bound Bible with a black leather cover.

“What will you use, then? Do we share or something?” I take the heavy book and set it in my lap.

Jonah reaches in his bag and produces an iPad. “I got it.” He smiles and leans back in his seat.

“Right,” I mumble. “There’s an app for that.”

Jonah laughs louder, his shoulders shaking as Eden sits on the other side of him. “She’s funny,” he says to her.

Reluctantly, I make eye contact with Eden.

You see, it’s clear to me she has a thing for him. At least, it is when looking at their interactions through my “regular people” standards. She blushes when she sees him and laughs a little longer at the things he says. In Secularville, USA, even the hint that your friend likes someone means that they’re 100% off-limits until a relationship decision has been made. And, most times, after that.

Here, though? I don’t know what the rules surrounding all of that are. When my eyes connect with Eden’s, there’s nothing but elation there. She’s nodding along with Jonah’s assertion that I’m funny, and there isn’t a hint of a claw coming from her buffed and polished nails.

I hold up the book. “He lent me his Bible,” I feel the need to explain.

She waves her hand in the air. “He’s always prepared.”

I have so many jokes on the tip of my tongue, but before I can spit any of them out the lights over us are dimmed and lights facing the stage-like area are turned on, revealing a band.

“Welcome to Carter University!” the lead singer bellows into the microphone.