Thursday, May 23
Three Weeks Later
ATLANTA—“Eunice, are you back again so soon?” Rebecca asked, then realized her remark had been neither tactful nor professional.
In for prenatal care on the National Health Plan, Eunice Porter had hoped that the president’s sister had moved to some other ward or department, but here she was.
Rebecca closed the door and walked to the examining table. Eunice answered, “Yes, I guess so.”
“Well, I’m glad to see you. How are your children?”
They spoke for a few minutes, waiting for the doctor, but the conversation was almost a monologue. Rebecca was sensitive enough not to ask the question of how someone who’d had a full-term abortion in August could be back again almost four-months pregnant in May.
When the exam was over, Rebecca went downstairs for a late morning cup of coffee. Something more than the rapidity of Eunice’s pregnancies was bothering her, but she couldn’t figure out what it was. As she stood in the short line at the coffee shop, she glanced over to the central elevator bank and saw Eunice and an even more pregnant Sally Kramer walking toward the exit. As she watched them gesturing and arguing, it struck her that they weren’t talking like the many pregnant women she regularly saw, but like businesswomen discussing a deal. She knew she had to be wrong, but there was something about these women that seemed bizarre, and she made a mental note to try to figure out why.
RALEIGH—Mary and Sarah Prescott, with Cynthia Williams and her son Tony, had gathered for a meeting at Northside High School with Principal Lawrence Perkins and health teacher Jean Bowers.
“Thank you for seeing us,” Mary said, as they all sat down around the small conference table in the principal’s office. For five minutes they conversed amicably about the upcoming graduation exercise.
Then Mary said, “We’re two of about twenty families who are very concerned about the virtual reality computer and its effect on our children. With the school year about to end, we want to ask you not to use it again next year and not to help BioTeam in any way to secure a government grant to put these in more schools.”
Jean Bowers smiled politely. “Mrs. Prescott, I talked with Sarah myself before she made her own informed decision, and I think she acted in a very mature and responsible manner.”
Sarah, sitting next to her mother, obviously felt strongly about what her teacher had just said but was not used to interacting with adults in this way. Stuttering a little she responded, “But—but, Ms. Bowers, you told us about how much we’d learn about sex. You didn’t tell us what that would do to us.”
“What do you mean ‘do’ to you, Sarah?” the teacher asked.
“I mean, like making us want to have sex, and feeling kind of stupid if we didn’t—and then encouraging us...you know, like to lose our virginity and all. I feel terrible about it.”
Ms. Bowers smiled and looked around at everyone else in the room, then back at Sarah. “Come on, Sarah, ours is a health class, not a psychology or morality class. We’re mandated by the state to teach sex education, and we can’t be responsible for what you do with that knowledge or how you feel about yourself, for goodness sake!”
“But this machine,” Cynthia Williams argued, “goes way beyond some sort of simple knowledge. It becomes experience itself. Then the kids want more.”
Still smiling, the teacher replied, “Well, that’s sort of the way sex is for some people, Mrs. Williams. I can’t help it if Sarah is one of those who likes sex”—Mary gasped loudly—“but our job, again, is to teach your children about sex, and I think this machine and our curriculum do a better job than has ever been possible before.”
Mary couldn’t stand it any longer. She was enraged. “Ms. Bowers, this machine, under the respectable name of education, steals our children’s chance to learn about sex where God intended them to, in a loving marriage relationship. Instead it lowers sex to a mechanical but still quite intoxicating set of stimuli, which are separated from the reality that people are normally attached to them. Your concept attacks our children, reducing their chances for happy marriages, and it attacks families, disconnecting love and commitment from physical intimacy. And because it attacks families, it attacks our society, which doesn’t need any more forces—especially masquerading under the name of education—encouraging young people to have sex—and therefore babies or disease—whenever they feel like it.”
Jean Bowers looked at Mary as if she’d just discovered the key to the woman’s long-standing insanity. “I suppose next you’ll give us your brother’s two worldviews. Since when does God have anything to do with health class in a public high school? Forty years ago the Supreme Court ruled that God and education shouldn’t be mixed—it’s unconstitutional!”
“Ms. Bowers, I agree that the public schools are no place to become a Baptist or a Lutheran. But the discussion of those two worldviews is actually very applicable here. As William said months ago, here we are arguing over details and missing the real point. To answer as simply as I can what you just asked, it was God who created what you are teaching, and since he made it, he also made some pretty explicit rules about it. And his words are therefore relevant to your health class because you’re teaching the kids to go ahead and have sex without also teaching them the rules he laid down. And the consequences for violating them, which Sarah, Tony, and our families are now suffering with.”
“Oh, come on, Mrs. Prescott,” Lawrence Perkins said, “aren’t you being a little dramatic?”
“No. As a matter of fact I haven’t even touched on the emotional pain we’ve been through—and Sarah and Tony will go through in the future. I think I’ve been rather clinical!”
“Well,” the health teacher responded in obvious disgust, “you’re coming on like some sort of old-fashioned preacher. Get with it. Kids today don’t have time to deal with all that. They’re thrown into the real, tough world at an early age, and it’s our job to help them learn how to cope with it.”
“I’d say you’re the one doing the throwing,” Tony said quietly.
Everyone turned to look at the young man for a moment. Then Jean Bowers looked back at Mary. “Whatever you think, you’re a very small minority. We have letters from other parents telling us how much they like this program and what good it’s done for their kids.”
“Well, we have a survey, conducted personally by Tony and Sarah,” Cynthia said, “of virtually all the seniors in their class. It may not be terribly scientific, but it includes a tabulation of how many have been sexually active, and unfortunately it’s virtually one hundred percent”
Jean Bowers leaned back. “Most kids their age are sexually active. That’s no big deal.”
“It’s funny,” Mary said. “That’s one of the lies that people like you have been putting out for years, trying to create a self-fulfilling prophecy, I guess. We’re waiting for the exact national statistics from the Family Institute for Research, but the average for kids in schools like ours is way below ‘everybody.’ Sadly, for Northside High, thanks to your course, it really is almost everyone.”
“So what?” the teacher responded defiantly. “Again, what these young people do with their advanced knowledge is up to them; our job is to give them that knowledge. We can even prove scientifically the progress these young people made as they went through this course.”
“How?” Cynthia asked.
“We kept excellent records of each student’s experiences on the computer, and we’ve charted them for increased levels of complexity, tolerance, and creativity. Every student in the class exceeded our initial expectations, and we plan to make this study available to BioTeam for their grant application.”
Ms. Bowers looked around the room as if she had won the argument, but the others seated with her, including Principal Perkins, were trying to understand what they had just heard.
“What do you mean when you say that you kept ‘excellent records’ on each student?” Mary finally asked for all of them.
“Why,” Ms. Bowers looked at Perkins for support, “we videotaped the computer side of the interaction, what the student wanted to see and feel, for each session, along with a reading of pulse rate from the gloves. We can then go back and reconstruct the student’s experience, and grade it in the major areas.”
“Wait a minute,” Sarah said, sitting up straighter. “You mean you have a tape of every session I had with that thing and can play what I saw and felt on a TV for others to see?”
The teacher smiled nervously. “Well, yes, I guess you could say that. We’ve used these tapes for scientific research, of course.” She looked again at the principal, who was frowning. “We would never disclose the specific individual involved on any report.”
The reality of what she was describing began to sink in. “And when you say ‘we,’ who exactly is that?” Cynthia asked.
“Why, Ed Cheatham, my fiancé. We’re writing our doctoral thesis on this research. It’s very interesting.”
“I bet it is!” Cynthia said. “Mr. Perkins, whatever else comes from this meeting, I want any tapes from Tony’s sessions destroyed today, with witnesses and without copies being made!”
“But what about our research?” Jean Bowers pleaded, her disdain giving way to anger. “We’ve worked hard. You have no right!”
“No,” Mary said, standing, “you have no right. Destroy Sarah’s, too, and today. With witnesses. Perhaps other parents who supposedly wrote so highly about the program will want to come by and review what little Johnny is thinking, but I find it both frightening and disgusting! I think you’ve got our message. And we finally understand your full agenda. Please, please don’t do this again next year.”
“You don’t understand,” the teacher replied, also standing and obviously angry. “We’re opening up an expanded world of thought and experience for these teenagers, which will make them better adults. We may even expand the program to the eleventh grade.”
“And you don’t understand,” Mary concluded, picking up her pocketbook, “that this program is a lie straight from hell.”
WASHINGTON—After the initial shock of the president’s late January message had passed, the nation’s capital settled into a predictable routine, though a much different routine from any previous spring in memory. The gridlock of the last twenty years remained, though this political season the reason for the stalemate was out in the open, as was the solution. The gridlock this year centered on people—whom to elect in November—rather than on legislation. If the president was right, legislation would follow in January and flow quickly. It was a time of choices, as the president had challenged every citizen. There was a growing expectation on both sides of the debate that by the end of the year the gridlock would be broken, with one path or the other finally chosen for the nation.
And in the meantime, government from the White House to the courthouse took a collective breather and concentrated on dusting off postponed projects and on how to work more efficiently. The primary exception was foreign policy. While the rest of the world was curious about America’s upcoming choice, it did not stop or wait. The administration still had to make decisions on dealing with the continuing violence and death in former Yugoslavia and in several parts of Africa; in both areas traditional government had all but disappeared, leaving force as the only arbiter of grudges.
The president had just returned from a G-8 summit conference in Berlin, where he had urged greater European intervention with America in finding international solutions. He had suggested to his politely smiling counterparts that there would be no real long-term solutions in these or any other troubled areas of the world without God’s involvement. And he had quietly reminded them about the impending bomb threat to America and asked for their governments’ redoubled help in finding the terrorists quickly.
That Thursday William Harrison was meeting in the Oval Office with Jerry Richardson, Michael Tate, Larry Thomas, and Susan Fullerton for an update on the political situation. As they settled into their chairs, William asked, “So, how are we doing at the end of our fourth month?”
“Mixed,” Larry Thomas volunteered. “Some of the good news is that we now have at least one candidate who has embraced our Twenty Points in every single congressional district, and all of the Senate races. Thirty percent of them are incumbents. So we have someone running in every local election, and our coordinating committee is making the rounds, meeting all of them and sharing ideas we hope will get them elected.”
“Of course the committee isn’t taking sides,” Susan added, “where there’s more than one of our people running in the same race. We want local constituents to make that decision.”
“What’s the previous party affiliation count?” the president asked.
“It’s really amazing—about one-third each: us, them, and independent,” Jerry answered. “And our polls indicate that nobody much cares this year. Whatever else we’ve done, we’ve made people focus on the worldview issue, not the political party.”
“Maybe when it’s over we’ll witness one of those rare generational shifts, when political parties realign,” Larry said.
“Another positive development,” Michael Tate said, “is that we’re beginning to hear reports from the field—small towns, inner cities, and suburban neighborhoods—where individuals are calling in and saying that they’ve ‘converted’ a new volunteer. And some churches are volunteering to go door to door with the booklet Joe Wood’s committee has published—it’s really a good piece, by the way.”
“And so the bad news?” the president asked.
Jerry sighed. “The bad news is that for the last month all the polls— ours, theirs, everyone’s—have shown that the divisions have remained virtually unchanged, despite the opposition’s big name entertainment blitz and our grass roots organizing. Which means about twenty-five percent believe in God and will vote overwhelmingly for our candidates, twenty-five percent just as strongly reject any faith in him, and fifty percent express a belief in God but have heard so often about the ‘separation of church and state’ that they can’t imagine voting for anyone or anything based on their faith. As if what they believe only matters on another planet.”
“And the tragedy, of course,” William finished the thought, “is that if that hesitation remains through November, then their inaction is as good as a vote for the other side. They’ll reject our challenge to choose, but in the process they’ll choose just as decisively by default.”
Everyone was silent for a minute. Then William continued. “If any of those decisive fifty percent are going to vote for our candidates, then their hearts have to be changed. And to change their hearts is going to take preparation. What about the Jewish vote?”
“The polls among Jewish voters are running closer to fifty-fifty, as is the opinion of their leadership,” Larry replied. “Many have strongly endorsed us for the obvious reasons, but many others have denounced us as hate mongers.”
“But several of the candidates we’re supporting are Jewish,” William said. “Clearly a devout Jew has a godly worldview.”
“We know,” Michael said. “And we’re reaching out, one-on-one, trying to get past the stereotypes in the press.”
“Well,” William asked, turning to Susan, “where are we focusing for the next ninety days?”
“Our main efforts for the summer are our speakers bureau, our fundraising for TV spots in the fall, the distribution of the Twenty Points booklet, and the Fourth of July Day of Fasting and Prayer. Hopefully those efforts, plus the ongoing news interviews, will prepare people for the message from their local candidates.”
William leaned back in his chair. “I’m fine with this right now. You’re doing a great job, all of you. If we keep praying, keep ourselves focused on him, ignore the personal attacks on us, and always bring the issues back to the worldview, which includes God as Lord, then whatever else needs to be done, he’ll do. As we read so many times in the Bible, if we’ll just do the simple things he asks, then he’ll
always do as he’s promised.”
Jerry smiled. “I know what you’re saying is true, but it’s so hard for us Type-A personalities to just trust God.”
William returned his smile. “I know. But while we’re asking others to believe in him for the first time, we’ve also got to walk our talk and spend more time on our knees than on setting goals in our pocket calendars. That’s what faith is.”
ATLANTA—Six weeks after Bruce left, Rebecca spent a long weekend in Washington with her brother and sister-in-law, and she asked their forgiveness for Bruce’s too-personal attack on their family. William assured her that he knew she was not to blame and that he expected such attacks, so she shouldn’t worry any more about it.
By the end of their time together Rebecca was convinced that William meant it, and she was also convicted by the tremendous peace and strength she saw in the two of them and in Katherine. She left Washington not as a practicing Christian believer, but as someone who had reaffirmed her belief in God and who was open to hearing more. She decided that in November she would have to vote for candidates who believed in the biblical world-view; it was the only one that made sense to her.
On returning to Atlanta she’d taken three days to write a long letter to Bruce, outlining beliefs that had been difficult for her to define earlier, but which she wanted him to understand. During the intervening weeks she’d become more and more sensitive to what people around her were saying about the election. She understood those who denigrated the biblical world-view, like her trainer at the gym, a young woman in her early twenties she’d known for six months. So after two weeks of hesitation, that Thursday afternoon as they finished their session at the club, Rebecca asked, “What do you think’s going to happen after the election in November?”
The woman’s puzzled look encouraged Rebecca to continue, and the ensuing conversation lasted almost an hour. As they left that night, Rebecca hoped that she had at least planted a seed.
The President Page 54
