“Good night.”
Renny smiled as he walked up the stairs to his apartment. Stopping on the landing he looked at the stars slowly marching across the clear night sky. You stopped for an instant to watch tonight, didn’t you?
Inside the kitchen, Jo sat down and raised her index finger to her lips, touching the same place as Renny. If he’d asked her a second time to marry him, would she have given the same answer?
As Renny shaved and dressed the next morning, he thought about Jo and “The Kiss,” as he now labeled it in his memory bank. Any hurt or embarrassment over her refusal to say yes to his proposal was swept away before his confidence that they would be united. For now, he was left with the exquisite pleasure of unfulfilled anticipation reserved for lovers.
While waiting for Jo in Mrs. Stokes’s kitchen, Renny poured himself a second cup of coffee.
Mrs. Stokes joined him at the table. “How are you this morning?” she asked.
“Great,” Renny said. “I’ve been reading the Bible, and it’s incredible. Things are leaping off the page.”
“It’s personal, isn’t it?” she said.
“Yes.”
“Jesus said, ‘My sheep hear my voice.’ Hearing the voice of the Spirit is the birthright of every Christian. To me it’s one of the surest proofs of the new birth.”
“Put me on your list—” Renny stopped. When he said the word list, a brief wave of queasiness passed over him. He was already on one List.
Unaware of Renny’s feelings, Mrs. Stokes continued, “One of the most important things you need to do is maintain that open line of communication with God. Being a Christian is a process. There is a beginning, but that is only the first step.”
Renny’s uneasiness subsided. “Like the Chinese proverb?”
“Yes,” she said. “A journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step. We often used that with new believers. It’s a true statement for the Christian life.”
“What I’ve experienced in three days has been so intense I can’t imagine it going away.”
“Unfortunately it can. We are infinitely creative in ways to grieve the Holy Spirit. Walk in sensitivity and obedience if you want unbroken fellowship with the Lord.”
“That’s what George Manor told me. I think he said to hear and obey because it was the basis for faith and repentance.”
“That’s right. Truths such as faith, repentance, love, and grace are like huge precious stones with thousands of facets. You can’t appreciate every facet and reflection of light in a single glance; it takes a lifetime of walking with him. Every time the Lord opens our eyes, we receive new levels of understanding that bring transformation to our lives. Transformation simply means becoming more like Jesus.”
Jo, her hair pulled up with curls softly framing her face, appeared in a black-and-white dress. “Are you having a deep theological conversation?”
“As a matter of fact, we were,” Renny said. “We usually do this on Sunday mornings.”
“Careful, I think lying is covered in the Ten Commandments,” Jo said.
“What does it say about kidding?”
“I’ll have to study the Hebrew and get back to you,” Jo said.
Renny stood. “We’d better go. We’ll eat lunch out, Mrs. Stokes.”
When they were seated in the car, Renny said, “Good morning.”
“Good morning. Did you have pleasant dreams?”
“I didn’t need any. I had something real to think about. ”
“I’m glad you liked it.”
“Oh, I did. How about you?”
“It was OK.”
“Only OK?” Renny stopped the car. “What was that you said in the kitchen about lying?”
St. Catherine’s parking lot was almost full, and Renny dropped Jo off at the entrance to the church before parking the car. As he locked the door, he heard a car horn and saw Jack and Lois Berit coming around the adjacent row of vehicles. They parked a few spaces away from Renny. Someone else was in the car. It was Thomas Layne.
Lois waved. “Renny, come meet my brother from Charleston.”
Renny, his mouth suddenly dry, nodded a greeting to Lois and walked over to their vehicle. Layne, the familiar smirk on his face, extended his hand. “Hello, I’m Thomas Layne. My sister was just telling me about you as we pulled in the parking lot. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He shook Renny’s hand.
Renny mumbled, “Pleased to meet you.”
Lois chirped, “I know you two will want to compare Charleston notes. Thomas wasn’t going to visit for a couple of weeks but had a change in plans and came early. I’m so glad you came back this Sunday, Renny. Maybe the four of us can go to lunch together after the service.”
“I’ve brought someone with me this morning,” Renny said.
“Good, your friend would be welcome to join us as well.”
Jack and Lois led the way across the parking lot. Layne held back a little and touched Renny’s arm. “Your friend isn’t a dark-haired young woman from Michigan, is she?” Layne asked.
“You guessed it,” Renny said, trying to act casual.
“Brilliant. I’m glad you’re following LaRochette’s request to keep an eye on her.” Layne kept his voice low. “We’ll talk later. Tell her not to let on that she has ever met me. Avoid any awkward explanations with my sister, you know.”
Renny grunted.
“By the way, you’re not becoming a religious fanatic, are you?” Layne chuckled. “You don’t strike me as the type.”
Renny didn’t answer.
Jo was inside the foyer talking with a woman who had greeted her. Touching her back, Renny leaned down and whispered, “Thomas Layne is here. Act like you’ve never met him.”
Jo turned and asked, “What?”
At that moment Layne stepped forward and took Jo’s hand. “Renny, this must be your friend. I’m Thomas Layne.”
Lois came up on the other side and introduced herself. “I’m Lois Berit. My husband, Jack, has already gotten away from me. I want you to meet him, too,” she said looking around for him.
“This is Jo Johnston,” Renny said to Lois.
Jack motioned to them. “I have five seats on the left side of the sanctuary, but we need to go ahead and sit down.”
Renny was sandwiched between Layne on his left and Jo on his right.
It was impossible to talk to Jo. Out of the corner of his eye, Renny could see the firm cut of her features. She was not smiling.
The worship was similar to the week before. Paul Bushnell, the rector, welcomed the Lord to the meeting, and the instrumentalists and singers began to celebrate.
Renny was flat. His anticipation and excitement about the service evaporated like a drop of water on the hot asphalt of the church parking lot. Lois was banging her tambourine, but it might as well have been a trash can lid to Renny. Jo started clapping her hands a little, and when the music turned softer, she closed her eyes. Layne looked straight ahead. Renny wondered if he ever blinked.
As the worship flowed out of the room and it grew quiet, Renny tried to regain the sense of the Lord he had felt earlier in the morning. Nothing. They all sat down as Paul and Chuck Southgate came forward and led the congregation through the morning readings and prayers.
Afterward, Paul Bushnell said, “Chuck Southgate, who works with our youth, is going to lead us this morning.”
Southgate stepped to the microphone. “This morning I want to speak about our identifying with Jesus Christ in the world. It’s one thing to express our love and devotion for him within the safety of this sanctuary, surrounded by those who support our faith. It’s quite another to do so in the places we live day by day. To help me make my point this morning, I’ve asked two of the teenagers in the church to share their experiences with you. First, Jeremy Davenport.”
Jeremy, a lanky young man with close-cropped brown hair and blue eyes, began by describing typical adolescent struggles with peer pressure at school and harassment from others when he
refused to go along with the crowd. He expressed appreciation for the influence of his father and mother, then said, “It was not until my father’s death from cancer nine months ago that I learned to stand on my own for God. For me, it was a make-it-or-break-it time. I was mad at God for a while, but although I miss my dad, I decided not to let go of the good things he taught me. I’ve faced the fact that I will die someday, and this has made me bolder in letting others know that I’m a Christian. Last week, two guys who have hassled me about my faith came to me after they had some problems at school, and I was able to tell them the gospel. One of them prayed to receive Jesus into his heart. I can see now that each step I’ve taken toward God has always been the right step. That’s the journey I’m on.”
A junior high girl named Kelli spoke next. She told how she had reached out to Sarah, a neighborhood friend. After a few months, Sarah became a Christian. Sarah’s parents were considering a divorce, and their daughter asked Kelli and her family to pray about the situation. One evening when Sarah’s parents came to pick up their daughter, Kelli’s parents invited them inside. The two families became friends. Now, six months later, both families were in the church. When Kelli finished, Chuck Southgate asked everyone involved in the story to stand, and the congregation applauded.
Renny was amazed at the willingness of the people to allow their lives to be exposed to public view.
Southgate said, “Let me read Mark 8:38: ‘If anyone is ashamed of me and my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, the Son of Man will be ashamed of him when he comes in his Father’s glory with the holy angels.’”
Closing the Bible, he continued, “My purpose is not to burden you with the wrong kind of guilt this morning. If you are not active in sharing your faith, don’t try to pull yourself up by your bootstraps and attempt to do better. Rather, come to the Lord in repentance and ask him to overwhelm you with his love. He loves you; you love him; he loves others through you. Then, because you have something real yourself, you will want to share that reality with others.”
When it was time for Communion, Southgate held his arms wide in invitation. “The first place to acknowledge the presence of Jesus in your life is safe—before this congregation. I want to invite anyone who has never done so to confess publicly Jesus as Lord. If you have never openly identified with Jesus and want to do so this morning, we want to serve you first.”
In classic sawdust-trail fashion, Renny’s hands grew clammy, his heart started pounding, and he felt everyone in the room watching and waiting for him to get out of his seat. He hesitated. Chuck Southgate seemed unhurried as the seconds passed. A young boy, accompanied by his mother, went forward and knelt at the altar. An overweight woman in her twenties followed him. Tissue in hand to blow her nose, she was greeted by Paul Bushnell. Renny hesitated. He would have to crawl over Layne to get to the aisle. He saw himself getting up and tripping over Layne’s foot. That would never do. He hesitated. Southgate smiled as if everything was great. “Please pray for these two as we serve them.”
Renny was relieved, but the relief lasted less than a full second. It was followed by regret, then before regret could gain a hearing, accusation pushed its way to the front of his consciousness. He was an idiot and a fool who had been playing a silly religious game. Get real, he told himself. A splitting headache pierced his skull with pain, and when the others on the row got up to go to the Communion rail, he put his head in his hands and shook his head.
“What’s wrong,” Jo whispered.
“Terrible headache.”
Jo sat down beside him and motioned for Lois and Jack to go ahead. Layne was already in line to go to the front.
“Remember when I prayed for your headache in Georgetown?”
Renny nodded without looking up.
Jo continued softly, “Father, I ask you to touch Renny now and heal him.”
She waited; Renny kept holding his head in his hands.
“Do you feel any better?”
“No. You go on up. I just need to be still a minute.”
Jo hesitated then slipped past him. A place opened at the altar rail, and she knelt to receive the bread and wine. She lingered and Paul Bushnell came back to her as the crowd at the altar thinned and asked, “Is there something I can pray about with you?”
“If you have time, could you pray for my friend after the service?”
“Sure. Don’t leave. I’ll come back into the sanctuary as soon as most of the people are gone.”
After the rector gave the benediction, Lois Berit asked, “Renny, can you and Jo join us for lunch?”
“No thanks, I’ve got a migraine and don’t feel like eating right now,” Renny said.
“I’ll be in town for a couple of days. Maybe we can get together,” Layne spoke up. “Do you have a card with you?”
Renny pulled out his wallet and gave him one.
“Hope you feel better,” Lois said. “It was nice meeting you, Jo. Hope you visit again.”
Jo motioned for Renny to wait as the Berits and Layne walked toward the door. “I asked the rector if he would pray for you. He said to wait here until he finishes greeting the people.”
“Why did you do that?” Renny asked. “I barely know the man.”
“That’s your headache talking. Let’s give it a chance.”
Renny sat down grumpily. “I feel like a calf waiting to be branded.”
They sat in silence until Bushnell came over to them. He shook Renny’s hand. “We met last week, didn’t we? Ronny, isn’t it?”
“Yes, uh no, it’s Renny.”
“Sorry. What’s the problem?”
“I didn’t want to bother you. It’s only a headache.”
“A bad one though?”
“Yes.”
“Let me get some oil.”
Renny looked at Jo as Bushnell went to the front of the sanctuary.
“Oil?”
“Anointing oil. It’s a symbol of the Holy Spirit. The New Testament gives guidelines about praying for sick people and anointing them with oil. It’s in the book of James.”
“Oh.” Renny knew he was going to have to submit to the ritual whether it was motor oil or castor oil.
“Do you know about anointing with oil?” Bushnell asked when he returned with a small vial of golden liquid in his hand.
Relying on his education of the past thirty seconds, Renny said, “Yes.” “Good. Let’s pray and ask God to touch you.”
Bushnell moistened his finger with the oil and put his hand on Renny’s right temple. “Is that where it hurts the worst?”
“Yes, it is.”
“OK. Lord, we ask you to touch Renny with your healing power.” He waited several seconds, then said, “It’s really bad, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it still hurts,” Renny said.
“I may have suffered the type of pain you’re feeling. It’s a sharp, knifelike sensation centered in your right temple. Makes you feel a little nauseous?”
“Yes.”
“Is this the first severe headache you’ve experienced?”
“No. They started recently. I’ve had two or three since my father’s death.”
“Did he have headaches?”
“Yes. All his life, as far as I know.”
“There may be a connection. Let’s pray again. Father, we ask you to remove this headache and rebuke its origin in Jesus’ name.” He waited again. “It’s not gone, is it?” It was more of a statement than a question.
“No.”
“Why not?” Jo asked.
“When I prayed for you, Renny, I saw a picture in my mind of two swords coming down out of heaven. They clashed in the air then fell to earth, sticking in the ground in a crossed position, blade to blade.”
“What would that have to do with a headache?” Renny asked.
“It means the basis for the headache may be more spiritual than physical.”
“Well, it hurts in the physical,” Renny said.
“Granted. Many headach
es have a physical explanation—stress, fluid pressure, poor circulation, blows to the head. Do you have a history of a physical condition that could cause you to have headaches?”
“No.”
“Then I would think even more strongly that it is a spiritual issue.”
“Whatever.” Renny was ready to leave. The rector was getting on his nerves.
“What do the swords represent?” Jo asked, ignoring the tone of Renny’s response.
“I would interpret the clash of swords as a battle over your spiritual vision or understanding. It’s so fierce you are having effects in your body. Does anything I’ve said make sense to you?” Bushnell asked.
Renny wanted to say no and shut the rector up, but he answered, “Perhaps. But I still don’t know what to do.”
“I don’t know either, but I’m willing to help. Could the three of us get together later this week and spend a longer time praying about this?”
“I’m going back to Michigan this afternoon,” Jo said. “But Renny lives here in Charlotte. You could come by this week, couldn’t you?” she asked Renny.
“Maybe Wednesday,” Renny said reluctantly.
“I’m here in the morning, but I usually play golf Wednesday afternoon. I can skip it, though, if that’s the only time you can meet.”
“Thanks,” Jo said.
They stood, and Bushnell shook Renny’s hand. “Give me a call, please.”
Renny dreaded walking out into the sunlight, but the pain lifted as he walked across the parking lot to his car.
“Do you want me to drive?” Jo asked.
“No, I can do it. Maybe it’s a delayed reaction to the prayer. Does it work that way sometimes?”
“Yes, it can.” Jo sat in the passenger seat. “Do you want to go home? That would be fine with me.”
“No, I’m better. Really. Let’s get something to eat.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Mexican OK?”
Jo turned in her seat and faced him. “Wait a minute. This is strange. One minute you’re so sick you can’t go forward for Communion and the next you want to eat Mexican food.”
Renny shrugged. “I don’t know. Neither did the good rector.”
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