Jesus Freaks: Sins of the Father

“How do you mean?”

“I mean, think about your tenth birthday, for instance.” Jonah releases Eden’s hand, sits forward, and clears his throat. “The night of the party, you’ll tell someone who asks every detail about it. The next month, you’ll tell them almost the same, but the colors might be different or not mentioned at all, but the feeling of excitement and who was there are probably going to be identical. If I asked you right now about your tenth birthday party, you’d probably tell me a couple people who were there. Those are the ones who are most important in your memory. Same with the presents. The ones you treasured the most. But you’ll, without a doubt, be able to tell me how you felt that day. The Gospel of John is so passionate because he was able to focus on the feeling following Jesus leaves in the heart of the believer. And the gifts that were most important.”

I nod in approval at Jonah’s turning of the word gifts into something else.

“John was written,” Jonah continues, “by a man who walked with Jesus. Someone who was best friends with him. And by a man who spent the rest of the life spreading the Word. It was written by a man who got to look back at an entire life of following the one true God, and he penned what was most important to keep that following alive.”

Jonah licks his lips and sits back, taking Eden’s hand as she stares at him in awestruck wonder. I admit, I’m feeling a bit of that wonder as I stare. While I was able to spout off things I’d let soak into my brain from a few sermons I heard, Jonah is able to take the same information he’d picked up along the way and make it completely relatable to anyone, Christian or not. While he’s never said in my presence that he longs to be a pastor, I can’t help but notice the ease in which he spins his words—much like Roland. It’s no wonder Eden had her eyes set on him. I don’t doubt it will be hard for her to tear herself away from him if he decides pastoring is not the vocation for him—what with her ingrained desire to be a pastor’s wife and all.

“Couldn’t you also say,” Silas interjects, “that John was written by someone who knew just how to get the troops rallied, so to speak? That he didn’t write the most important stuff about Jesus, but had studied people longer than the others, and knew what language to use to get people worked up? That he learned enough about society in his life to play on what would stir them, rather than what was true?”

Bridgette looks annoyed. “So, you’re saying this Gospel isn’t true? Why would it be included in the Bible?”

“I’m not saying it’s not true,” Silas counters, seeming tense. “What I’m saying is that maybe he had more of an agenda than the others. Urgently so.”

“Ooookaaaay,” Jack draws out slowly. “Let’s take a step back. This is a Bible study, not a Bible debate. Let’s take a few minutes to read the first chapter, and we can talk about what the author is saying. Later we can get into the why.”

The group agrees and, in round-robin style, we read the first chapter of the Gospel. I’m feeling a familiar, but nearly forgotten, energy coursing through my body. It’s the kind of excitement I used to get in my social studies and English classes in high school. The kind of enthusiasm that comes from diving into something that I find interesting, be it social policy or the use of color symbolism in The Great Gatsby. I never thought that the words in the Bible would illicit such a response. I’m more engaged in this discussion than in any I’ve had at Carter so far, and I’m wondering if, maybe, with time away from my parents and the life I’ve grown up in, if my true passions have finally been allowed to surface.

I take a deep breath and remind myself to calm down. Every time I find something interesting like this, I want it to swallow me. Through my life, I’ve been certain that I’d be a lawyer, politician, and English teacher. Each with equal fervor. While I’m relieved to have some engagement, finally, in my life here, I’m prepared for the excitement to fade.

Thinking of Roland, however, I can’t help but wonder—is evangelism genetic?

I chuckle at the conundrum of science and faith that would present, and refocus my attention on the group and the hot topic of the Gospel of John.





“That was fun!” I say to Eden, Jonah, and Matt as we walk across campus to grab a quick coffee at the one place open after dark before returning to our dorms for curfew.

Eden and Jonah are still attached at the palms, and Matt and I are walking on either side of them, our hands in our respective pockets. I know handholding is okay, but they’re making a meal out of it. Rolling my eyes, I internally scold myself at the thought of turning into a prude.

“I had no idea you cared so much about this stuff, Kennedy,” Eden says, tucking hair behind her ear and seeming to struggle to make eye contact with me.