Next Time I Fall

by Jeff Erno

  “Who cares? They’re sooo good!” She shoveled a pile of finger foods onto her appetizer plate. “But yeah, I can’t go to the wedding.”

  “Seems like you’re always flying off to an island somewhere. Bali, Fiji, God knows where. And yes, of course it’s etiquette to mail your invitations in advance, but I guarantee you Dwayne’s the one who procrastinated. He probably couldn’t decide who to invite or who not to.”

  “Or he couldn’t decide which invitation to choose.”

  “So what am I supposed to do? If you’re not around to be my escort, who am I going to take?”

  “Your new boyfriend.”

  Eric glared at her. “I don’t have a boyfriend, and I’m not about to invite Steve to a gay wedding. Not yet.”

  “Invite him as a friend. It might be good for him to see true love and commitment in a gay couple. If what you say about his background is true, that he’s been brainwashed into believing gay people are vile sinners.”

  “I should have ordered a side plate of chicken quesadillas.”

  “We have quesadillas.”

  “Spinach quesadillas. There should be a law against that. I don’t think I can invite Steve to the wedding. All those assholes who were at Gary and Richard’s dinner party will be there…including Paul. They’d be like vultures. Poor Steve would be their prey.”

  “But you’d be there to protect him.” She smiled and picked up a quesadilla wedge, took a big bite. “These are so good.”

  Eric made a face. “Once you meet Steve, you’ll understand. He doesn’t have a pretentious bone in his body. He’s terminally honest—about the most wholesome person I’ve ever met.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t do wholesome. But you could have invited him tonight if you really wanted him to meet me.”

  “I did, actually. He had a thing with the church. Putt-putt golfing or something. He’s a youth group leader.”

  “Oh gag. I don’t do miniature golf either. I don’t do any golf.”

  “You should try it some time. You like big hard sticks and little balls.”

  She licked the vegan cheese off her finger. “And I just love it when a guy sinks a hole in one.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Thursday afternoon Steve stayed at the church after Bible school and the potluck, made sure all the cleanup was complete, then took a seat in the sanctuary at one of the rear pews. He savored the brief solitude as he waited until seven o’clock, the scheduled time for youth group. They’d be using the church van to take the kids miniature golfing.

  With his Bible beside him on the seat, he looked up toward the altar and envisioned himself behind the pulpit. The surreal moment nearly overwhelmed him as he recalled another time, long ago, when he’d stared up at the pulpit as a small boy. This sanctuary was much larger than his small hometown church, which as a child had felt huge. He knew then that one day he’d be on the other side of that podium, preaching the Word of God. Now here he was, his childhood dream a reality, and it felt as if his world was crumbling.

  Something had to give. He found himself at a crossroads, and he had to make a decision which direction to continue. One way would require that he abandon his past and rediscover himself. His dream of becoming a pastor would change, possibly morph into a nightmare. The other option would require he deny a part of himself he had just acknowledged and was beginning to discover.

  Last night after he’d left Eric’s porch, he’d come home and re-read the six passages in the Bible that were universally used to condemn homosexuality. Was it possible the church had gotten it wrong? Had they been teaching something all these years that didn’t quite sync with what the scriptures actually said?

  The church argued that the commandment couldn’t be any clearer. Thou shalt not lie with mankind as with womankind. It is an abomination. But was that even the issue? Steve hadn’t lain with anyone, male or female. To him, it wasn’t about behavior. It was about his identity. As natural as the changing of his voice and the development of his body from a boy to a man, his attractions had manifested. They’d never presented themselves as a choice. They were just there. They existed within him.

  But the church would argue, he still had to choose his behavior. All people faced temptation to sin. Some were more inclined to specific sins than others, but it still was their responsibility to obey God, no matter how challenging it might seem. Just because you felt like doing something didn’t make it right in the eyes of God.

  The irony wasn’t lost on Steve. First God created man, but because man disobeyed God, He created Hell to where He condemned man for disobedience. Then He offered an escape route, salvation through His Son, Jesus Christ, but some of the humans He’d created, just by their identity, were unworthy of this salvation. Why? Why would God do this? Why would He condemn homosexuality after having created so many people who were gay?

  Maybe the real choice wasn’t whether to sin or not to sin. Maybe it was a choice between loving and lying. If he continued to live in denial, he was lying not only to himself but to all around him—including his youth group kids, his family, and his church. Wasn’t that bearing false witness?

  After reading the passages, he’d allowed himself to explore some opinions he hadn’t previously been brave enough to examine. Online he discovered a plethora of viewpoints about the scriptures and what they meant. The passage in Romans, which was the one most quoted by evangelicals, was actually the most ambiguous. Students of the Bible often studied isolated passages, small blocks of verses. But the original text was not divided as such. Romans was crafted as a letter from the Apostle Paul to the church in Rome. The verses now quoted to condemn homosexuals were part of a much larger passage, and the topic Paul was discussing did not appear to be homosexuality at all. He was warning the early Christians about idolatry and the hedonistic practices of pagan religions.

  The passage in Leviticus that contained the outright condemnation, “Man shall not lie with man,” was a single verse pulled from a long list of condemnations stated within Levitical Law. Included in the list were prohibitions of eating shellfish, getting tattoos, and mixing fabrics in clothing. Actually, there were seventy-six such prohibitions, most of which were labeled as abominations and punishable by death. And most of the offenses were things modern Christians did all the time.

  One of the arguments Steve read proposed that the Bible did not condemn homosexuality at all. For the most part, the biblical authors were unaware of or unconcerned with “constitutional” homosexuality. They spoke out against specific sexual acts within a precise context, but they never addressed the morality of a person being gay, identifying as a homosexual.

  But the Bible did talk a lot about relationships. Marriage was discussed ad nauseum. Even Jesus himself had preached about divorce. Of course, these passages did not have to specify they were only applicable to heterosexuals. Everybody knew that. They knew because it was obvious. God had created Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve, after all. He cringed at the lame banality.

  Sometimes Christians could be so arrogant, so sure of themselves. Steve had gone all his life believing the things he’d been told. In Bible college he was taught not only what to believe but also how to think. Rationality and critical thinking were openly condemned. But what if Christians were actually willing to reexamine their doctrine? What if they were to go back and study these passages, not wearing the rose-colored glasses of their own presuppositions, but honestly and openly? Maybe they’d come to a different conclusion for what the Word of God said about gay people.

  When Steve heard the outer doors leading into the church foyer push open, he took a deep breath and rose from his pew. His moment of solitude was over. The first arrival for youth group had entered the building. Without even looking, Steve knew who it was. There was only one teen who was as equally punctual as Steve.

  “Luke! How’re you doing?” Steve smiled and walked across the back of the sanctuary to greet the young man.

  “Good. How was Bible school?” Luke’
s fine blond hair swept across his forehead, and as he looked up, he flicked his neck slightly to flip it out of his eyes. He reached up with one hand and carded his fingers through the hair in a bit of a compulsive gesture.

  “Fun. It was a lot of fun.”

  “I’ve wanted to come all week, but I can’t. I have a job now and work during the day—sometimes in the evening too, but I told them when I started that I needed Thursday nights off for youth group, and Sundays, of course.”

  “Cool. Where’re you working?”

  “I’m a bag boy at Daane’s Market.”

  “I used to be a bag boy back in high school. I bet you’re good at it.”

  Luke shrugged, smiling. “I’m the fastest one…not to brag. But I have a theory about that. Some people have what they call dexterity. They learn to do things with their hands very quickly, and very adeptly. Like typing, playing piano, using an adding machine…even playing video games.”

  Steve nodded in agreement. “Yeah, but I think it’s a little more than a theory.” He laughed.

  “Oh…right, I know. I mean, my theory is that people who possess this ability make the best baggers. If you can do these other things without looking—typing, playing piano, etcetera—then you probably will be able to be a quick bagger.” As he looked at Steve, his cheeks lit up like ruby red apples. He’d embarrassed himself by his own chatter.

  Steve stepped closer, empathizing completely. He’d been there many times himself. He placed his hand on Luke’s shoulder. “You’re probably right about all of that. You should enter the Grocers Association’s Best Bagger Championship.”

  “You know about that?”

  “Of course I do. I made it to nationals in the tenth grade.”

  “No way!” Luke beamed. “If I do enter the competition, I’ll invite you to come watch.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  The door to the sanctuary opened again, and this time Rachel and Philip entered, holding hands. “Hi!” Rachel waved, and they then walked over to Steve and Luke.

  He remembered how Pastor Mathers had tried to play matchmaker between Rachel and him. If only Steve were able to meet a young woman like Rachel and feel for her what he felt for Eric, the reverend and the entire church family would welcome the pairing with praise and jubilance. He suspected this couple likely felt a lot of the same attractions and emotions that Eric and he shared, yet through the lens of their church doctrines, the people Steve worked with and loved here at the church would never look upon his relationship with Eric as being equal or even comparable to that of Rachel and Philip.

  Did he even have a relationship with Eric? Could he ever have one? He remembered his mother’s words from years ago, back when he was a teenager. She’d commented on a celebrity gay couple that happened to be in the news. But two men can’t love each other that way, the way a man and a woman do. It’s the woman who brings the love to the relationship.

  Even back then long before Eric, Steve had been taken aback by the sentiment. Was this what people truly believed, that a man couldn’t love, that he couldn’t bring love into a relationship? Even if he weren’t gay, he’d like to think he was capable of feeling love. And absent the love, what was left? A marriage of convenience? A power dynamic? A social contract entered into for the purpose of procreating?

  Steve chatted with the couple, thanking them for coming, and they waited for more teens to arrive. Within the next ten minutes, their numbers grew to a group of twelve kids. They gathered in the church’s recreation room and opened the evening with a word of prayer. Steve introduced Rachel and Philip to the kids and then shared some announcements about upcoming activities.

  “Well, we have a total of fifteen people. About twelve can fit comfortably in the van which Philip has volunteered to drive. So if three of you guys want to ride with me in my car—“

  “I will!” Luke blurted out.

  A couple others spoke up, and shortly thereafter the group was on their way. At the golf course, they split into three groups for scorekeeping purposes, and began navigating the course. Each of the three chaperones took a group, and they made a competition of it, fighting for the lowest combined score.

  Luke joined Steve’s group, and unfortunately completely disproved his earlier-stated theory about manual dexterity. He utterly sucked at golfing, but then so did Steve. Perhaps sports were exempt from the hypothesis. Steve could play piano, type close to a hundred fifty words per minute, and bag groceries faster than a locomotive, but he couldn’t throw or catch a ball to save his life. He could barely even hit one with a golf club.

  They had a blast nonetheless, and afterward all went out for pizza. When they got back to church, Luke pushed open the passenger door of the car and got out. His mother, whom he’d texted from the restaurant, was already there in the parking lot waiting.

  “Pastor Steve, thank you,” he said from the opposite side of the car. Steve had just stepped out from the driver’s seat.

  “Thanks for coming. I think you ended up beating me, didn’t you.”

  “By only one point.”

  Steve laughed. “Well, at least that’ll give you some bragging rights. You can say you weren’t the worst golfer.”

  “Pastor Steve, just face it,” said Tyler, one of the boys who’d emerged from the backseat. “You guys both sucked.”

  Steve laughed and Luke looked over at Tyler. His crestfallen expression took Steve aback. “Luke, he’s just kidding.”

  “No he’s not,” Luke said, his voice barely a whisper. He then turned and headed toward his mom’s car.”

  Steve turned to look at Tyler, but he’d already left.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It had been an emotionally draining week, and come Friday evening Eric was relieved to be done with it. On the way home, he stopped for Chinese takeout and picked up a bottle of scotch from the upscale liquor store next door. When he finally arrived home, he changed into shorts and a T-shirt, then took Drake for a short walk.

  He ate his Chinese with his feet propped up on the ottoman while sorting his mail and watching a mindless sitcom on TV. He was about to pick up the remote and try to find something that might not kill all his brain cells in thirty minutes when his cell phone vibrated. He reached to the stand to grab it and found a text from Steve.

  “Can I come over? I need to see you.”

  Rather than typing back a reply, Eric dialed Steve’s number.

  “Eric…”

  “Are you okay? Is everything alright?”

  The way Steve sighed into the phone provided the only answer Eric needed. He slid his feet off the footstool and leaned forward. “Steve, come over. You don’t have to ask first. You’re welcome any time.”

  “Okay…thanks. I’ll be there in a little bit. I’ll bring Felix if that’s okay.”

  “Of course.”

  When the call ended, Eric rose from his seat, carried his plate to the kitchen, and deposited the remains of his junk mail in the recycling bin. He hadn’t yet broken into the bottle of scotch on the counter, but he grabbed it and shoved it into the cupboard. He removed two iced tea glasses and filled them with ice. After filling them with fresh-brewed, unsweetened tea, he carried them into the living room. When Drake rushed to the window and stood on his hind legs, Eric knew Steve and Felix were within sight.

  He went to the front door, opened it, and stood waiting. Steve and Felix stood at the end of the walkway. They’d stopped walking when Eric opened the door, and Steve looked up at him. The tortured look in his eyes told Eric the young man was struggling. Eric took a step forward.

  Steve marched up the walkway, releasing Felix from his leash at the porch, then stepped up into Eric’s arms. Felix charged past the couple into the house while Eric stood in the threshold of the door holding Steve, his arms wrapped tightly around his torso. As he held him, Eric could feel Steve trembling. Though he wasn’t audibly sobbing, his entire upper body shook as if he were weeping.

  Eric recognized Steve’s cry. It was a
n expression of anguished grief. Steve stood there, utterly broken, and wept as if his closest friend or family member had just died. But it wasn’t a person he’d lost—not an actual human being. Steve had lost an image of himself, a facsimile. He’d recently buried the only version of himself he’d ever known, and now he had to find a way to go on.

  “You’re okay,” Eric whispered. “It’s going to be just fine.”

  After a few seconds, Steve pulled back from the embrace and looked into Eric’s eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I didn’t know…I didn’t know where to go but here.”

  “You came to the right place.” Eric slid his hand into Steve’s and led him inside. They walked over to the sofa and took their seats next to each other, in exactly the same position they’d been the first night Steve had visited. “Can you tell me what happened…I mean, if you want to talk about it?”

  Steve nodded. “You know we’ve had vacation Bible school this week? This afternoon was the last session, and afterward we had kind of a potluck. Actually we had similar luncheons every day, but since this was the last day, it was a feast of enormous proportions.”

  Eric smiled, patiently waiting for him to get to the real point.

  “Well, after the party, I stayed and cleaned up like I did every night, and after everyone else had gone, I was wrapping up and about to leave when one of my youth group kids showed up. He’d rode his bike to the church. He’s a teenager, about fourteen or fifteen, named Luke. He’s also in my Sunday school class.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Eric, he said he had to talk to me, and so we went back inside the church and sat in the sanctuary…”

  “And…?”

  Steve’s eyes grew wide. “He told me he’s gay.”

  Eric smiled. “And…?”

  Tears began to stream down Steve’s cheeks. “Eric, you should see this kid. In like a million ways he reminds me of myself…when I was his age, I mean. He’s so dedicated to the Lord. His relationship to Christ is his entire world, and he’s active in every imaginable way at the church…just like me…like how I was at his age.”