Remember Who You Are

Ch 37-38

Chapter Thirty-seven


The first half of the service had progressed smoothly and Wesley was settling into his sermon. Looking over his audience, making eye contact with friends and catching a smile or a wink from some of them, reminded Wes of his purpose and mission in life. Smiling, he started his sermon. “In the Lord’s Prayer, Jesus taught us to ask for forgiveness of our sins. One translation has it like this, ‘Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.’” Wesley made a dramatic pause here so that those familiar words would sink in. “The word ‘as’ means the same as like. I don’t want any confusion here. We are asking God to forgive us in the same manner, the same way, that we forgive others. So, in this case, we are setting the example for God. We are asking God to treat us like we treat others. So, what process do we use when we forgive?” Wesley waited, as if he expected an answer.





“Well, first, we generally want repentance. We want the person to be sorry. It is that simple. They should regret their action.” Wesley shrugged. “Seems reasonable. Right? Secondly, we want contrition. Now, contrition means a turning away. So, essentially, we want the person to promise to not repeat their sins. Their trespasses. Right? If they robbed a bank and they want forgiveness then they can’t want to rob any more banks. Right? I mean, that seems fair.” Wesley stopped and took a drink of water.





“After repentance and contrition comes punishment. Now, punishment is not mandatory but we generally add it. You know, little Bobby breaks a lamp, cries ‘I’m sorry Mommy!’” Here, Wesley raised his voice into a mock approximation of a seven-year-old boy to general laughter. “That’s repentance.” Again, he raised his voice, “’I’ll never do it again!’ That’s contrition.” There was more laughter. Wesley heard mostly female voices laughing. “And then…,” Wesley paused and then lowered his voice a little, “’Wait until your father gets home.’ That’s punishment.” The congregation burst into laughter. Wesley raised a warning finger to his congregation. “That’s also another sermon about mental torture and hitting the children we are supposed to love.” The laughter stopped immediately. Wesley could not help himself. He burst into laughter at the contrite faces he saw sitting in the pews. Except for the teens. They were grinning.





“Okay, Okay. So…repentance, contrition, and punishment. And we want God to have the same criteria for forgiving us.” Wesley looked over the congregation. “Not me. I want forgiveness to be a lot easier. Trust me, I do too much wrong. Every day.” The congregation was silent. Hopefully realizing that they, also, do too much wrong, thought Wesley.





Wesley took another well-timed drink of water. “But,” he started sharply, “we do have another story of forgiveness. This time, Jesus is hanging on the cross. He is in his final hours. He is about to die and he knows it. What does he do? He asks God to forgive the people who have crucified him. ‘Forgive them Father, they know not what they do.’” Wesley paused and looked out at the congregation.





“Repentance? Nope. From the Roman soldiers to the screaming masses to the Jewish leaders none of these groups regretted the part they played in Jesus’ crucifixion. Contrition? Nope. The Romans crucified thousands. And no one standing at Golgotha on that Friday evening thought they would never do this again. Punishment? Again, nope. Oh sure, history tells us that Jerusalem was destroyed, about forty years later; and Rome fell, a couple of hundred years later. But no one can honestly claim that any of that happened because of this. So…no repentance, no contrition, no punishment. Yet,” Wesley paused again for effect, “Jesus still forgave. From the beginning of Jesus’ ministry to the end, we have two lessons on forgiveness. What should we take from this? We should simply forgive those who trespass against us. Let that burden go. Carrying around the resentment or anger is allowing that person to camp out in our heart. Let it go. Let it go. Forgive that person for your own sake – not theirs.” Wesley paused and smiled. Time for the bombshell, he thought.





“Actually, there was one person in that drama who did show repentance and contrition, and was punished.” Wesley waited, building suspense.





“Judas Iscariot. He realized that what he had done was wrong and tried to return the money he received as payment. Repentance and contrition. He then hanged himself. Punishment.” Wesley paused again.





“Judas was forgiven.” Wesley waited for tension to build.





“That’s why, Judas was the first disciple to make it to heaven.”





The gasp from the congregation was audible.





“Let us pray. Heavenly Father, bring forgiveness into our hearts and into our lives. Ease the burden of pain we carry and help us ease the burden of pain for others. Make us, Lord, bringers of light into a dark and hurting world. Use us Lord to share Your love. In Jesus’ Holy name we pray, Amen.” The congregation echoed Wes’ ‘Amen.’





“Instead of a closing hymn, we have special music from New Covenant’s unnamed band,” there were a few chuckles. I am going to sit in the back and enjoy the music with the rest of you and when the music is finished so is the service.” Wesley raised his hand over his head and closed his eyes, “Go forth with God’s Grace and Love and may you be blessed and may you share God’s blessing with the world. Amen.” After blessing the congregation, Wesley moved to the back pew and took a seat.





Casey took a moment to tune his guitar and then nodded to the drummer. The song started with a more emphatic rock beat than any other song the band had played. The pianist joined in and it was obvious to Wesley that this song was going to be heavy on the guitar. Both the drummer and the pianist were playing backup roles, providing a rhythm section to Casey’s guitar.





Then Casey started. The first thirty seconds of his playing identified the song as “Blessed Assurance.” Wesley smiled and leaned back to enjoy Casey’s playing. Over the past several weeks, Casey’s band had alleviated Wesley’s concerns about introducing too much change into the church too soon and his natural distaste of Christian rock. Casey had not only adapted traditional hymns into a more contemporary style without losing the essence of the original but they had performed traditional hymns traditionally. The band had walked the tightrope between enough change and too much change beautifully.





Listening to Casey, Wesley lost the thread of the song. Suddenly, Casey was playing music that sounded nothing like the original song. The melody was absent. Wesley sat up and paid closer attention. He notices some of the other members fidgeting in their seats. Abruptly, Casey crashed to his knees and, throwing his head back, played a single note that seemed to hang in the air forever…never subsiding nor diminishing…Casey was lost in the moment and the single note. Wesley became uncomfortable. Looking around, wishing the note - and the solo - would end, he noticed that others were also looking around. Oh God, Casey, please let this end, Wesley thought. Please let this end.





There were a few church members still hanging around, joking, chatting, and packing up, but Wesley had finished with the receiving line that formed at the end of every service to wish him well or just say “Hello.” Wesley was furious. Unbuttoning his suit jacket and loosening his tie, Wesley stormed down the aisle towards the pulpit and the band. Casey Dietz, Steve Oldman, the keyboardist, and Michael Reich, the drummer, were wrapping cables around their arms, packing up the drums, and hanging out.





Wesley stood and looked at the three of them until they noticed his presence. Their banter died and Casey said, “Hey Wesley, good job today.”


“Can I see you in my office?” Wesley stormed out of the sanctuary as the three musicians looked at one another.





“I told you,” said Steve Oldman.





****


Barely able to think coherently, Wesley stared out his office window at the large oak tree and the occasional passing car and waited on Casey.


A single knock. Casey stuck his head in and said, “You mad?”





Wesley’s back was still to his door, and he stared out the window. “What do you think? I thought you were my friend. I thought you understood how important it was for me to be on solid ground here with the congregation before we tried anything too bold. I thought…” he paused for dramatic effect, “you were on my side.”





Casey opened Wesley’s office door enough to slip in. Plopping down on the sofa uninvited, Casey said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was that bad or that it would cause any problems.”





“You know for a fact that people right now are burning up their telephone lines talking about your music.”





Casey smiled. “Telephone lines? Not with cell phones.”





“I’m not much in a joking mood. This is important Casey. My job is still on the line. Even though I won the vote we had that doesn’t mean I will win the next one. I either need you on my side or I need you to back off. I can find other musicians.”





Casey looked at Wesley a moment. “You’re serious? I think you may be overreacting a little.” He could feel his temper rising.





Wesley’s eyes blazed at the betrayal he felt. He placed both hands on his desk and leaned forward. Closing the distance between he and Casey, “It’s time for you to grow up. Maybe if you moved out of your Mom’s house and tried standing on your own two feet, you would better understand how important something like this is.”





Casey’s eyes widened at Wesley’s words. Wesley’s insult cut right through Casey’s temper and hurt his feelings. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think that song would cause so much tension between us. It’s not that much different than what we have been doing. Look Wes, I’m on your side. I am your friend. I will be glad to get your approval for all music we play from now on. Please believe I didn’t think…look, I knew we were crossing the line. And it was all me. The other two said we should wait. But I didn’t think it would be that bad to throw in a little rock and roll. And believe me when I say this, I did not think you would be so upset.”





Casey’s apology took the air from Wesley’s anger. Regaining his equilibrium, he moved around the desk and took the matching chair to Casey’s sofa.





“I haven’t been myself lately. I apologize. Maybe I did overreact. But,” Wesley emphasized that word, “We need to be very careful with our music choices. Trust my caution, please. We will get to where we can play Christian rock or thrash or metal or whatever that was; but not yet. Please trust my judgment.”





Casey nodded his agreement. Clearly thinking about something else, he sat quietly for a moment and said, “No problem.” He took a deep breath and said, “Look, just because I have this hair,” his right hand motioned towards his multi-colored hair, “and these,” he tugged his right ear with the three piercings, “and some tattoos you cannot see, doesn’t mean I don’t take life seriously.” Casey’s voice took on a somber tone that Wesley had never heard.





“Look Casey, I misspoke. I should have never…”





Casey held up his meaty hand to stop Wesley. “Wait a minute. You did not say anything I haven’t said to myself on occasion. I have known my whole life how special Matthew is. A long time ago I realized that he would need someone in his life to take care of him after Mom passes. Don’t get me wrong, I love my brother. But when I was a kid I resented him and his inability to care for himself. But now? There is nothing I wouldn’t do for him, even if that means living with my Mom, never getting married, and never having children of my own. You know, it took ten years for me to teach him how to cut grass. Little bit at a time. Lots of repetition. Lots of frustration. And that may have been the greatest thing I have ever done in my life. You know how happy that makes him. I gave him that happiness. I would do anything for him. If that means I am still an adolescent then so be it.”





Oh God, thought Wesley. He took his hands and placed them over his face; he rubbed his eyes and slowly let his hands slide down his face. Clasping his hands together, fingers intertwined, Wesley closed his eyes and took a moment to hate himself. Finally, he spoke, “What it means is that your preacher is an asshole who let his anger and hurt override his good sense. Will you please forgive my callous assholery?”





Casey’s eyes furrowed in confusion at the made up word. He smiled and nodded.





“I love Matthew like a brother,” said Wesley. “He is very lucky to have you as a real brother.” Wesley shook his head in admiration. “You are a most extraordinary family.”





At that moment, Casey’s cell phone started playing The Rolling Stones’ Satisfaction. Wesley raised his eyebrows as Casey checked his phone.


Shaking his head, Casey said, “It’s Mom. I’m grounded.”





 


Chapter Thirty-eight





Four boxes of half-eaten pizza lay scattered around the den. Eight people were scattered around the den also in various states of discomfort from overeating pepperoni pizza. Wesley smiled. This group became closer every week and bonds were being formed between the members. Soon, one of the girls would contact Rebekah or himself for advice or counseling. That would be when Wesley knew that trust had been created. It’s time to tell them something personal about me, he thought. Rebekah had not been forthcoming with anything from her past. Wesley understood. Many people felt that the past was past and there was no reason to relive bad memories.





“So, who wants to start tonight?”





“I just want to say that the music today in church was awesome.” The speaker was Debra, Cora’s friend from UNC-Asheville who was one of the quieter members but who had silenced and chilled the group with her stories of surviving her parents’ divorce.





There was generally agreement with Debra’s statement based upon the shaking heads and the murmured comments. Great, thought Wesley.


“I think it may have given some of the older members heart attacks,” said Rebekah with a laugh. Wesley glanced over at her with gratitude.


“This is something we would not want to do. I have outlawed dying in this church, by the way. If you didn’t know.” Of course, after Wesley had said that in one of his first sermons two people had actually died IN the church. Nice thoughts, thought Wesley. Don’t dwell on the past.


“I think I need to start.” Rebekah stood and picked up her half empty water bottle. Taking a small sip, she said, “If no one objects.”


The girls settled back, thankful not to be put on the spot, thought Wesley, and all eyes turned to Rebekah.





She took another sip and cleared her throat. Moving behind one of the sofas, standing behind three of the girls and out of direct eye contact with everyone but Wesley, Rebekah took another sip and cleared her throat again. “My first year at U.V.A. was overwhelming. I know what Cora and Debra are going through. Well, some of it,” she said, remembering Debra’s parents divorcing and Cora’s suicide attempts. “New campus, new friends, huge classes, getting lost. Overwhelming.” She took another sip. Everyone half-turned, trying to see her as she spoke. “My suite mates were all from up north, the professors were scary, and the food was terrible.” Everyone laughed. Rebekah took another sip, emptying the bottle. Wesley leaned forward and grabbed another one. Tossing it to Rebekah, who caught it effortlessly; she twisted off the cap and took a long drink.





“Thanks, Wes.” She continued her story. “I was all alone for the first time in my life and I discovered that I hated ironing. I never appreciated my mom more than I did that year; well, not until I had Kat, anyway.” Rebekah placed her hand gently on Katherine’s shoulder. Who smiled and blushed a little. “Oh, and I still hate ironing.” She paused. “My first boyfriend was a senior.”





“Dad?”





“Not even close. He was the only one before I met your dad.” Wesley thought he heard regret and maybe anger in her voice. “We had only been on a few dates. And at college, for most people, since most people don’t have any money, dates are long walks in the rain, free movies or free concerts on campus. Things like that. He was so sweet. Blue eyes that could see into my heart, dimples that made you just want to grab him and kiss him, and the nicest hands. Nice hands can be a real turn on.” She blushed when she said that. Each of the girls laughed nervously, some glanced at Wesley who was trying to look at his own hands without being noticed.





“One Saturday afternoon in October. October twenty-eight to be exact, we had a football game against Clemson. He and I…”





“What was his name?” asked Cora.





Rebekah shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.” She paused and took a long drink from her water bottle. Wesley saw her hands shaking.


“Clemson killed us in football. The score was something like fifty to seven. After the game, the campus felt like a funeral home. People were drinking and moping around. There was no joy in Mudville that day.”





“Mudville?”





Rebekah looked at Wes and winked. “Nevermind. Anyway, I went to his dorm room after the game. We were alone. I had been there before and we had been alone before so it was no big deal. We had both been drinking, again, no big deal, and we started making out. He was such a good kisser.” Rebekah took a quick swallow from her bottle and kept talking. “One thing led to another, and he started trying to pull my tee shirt off.” One of the girls gasped.





“I stopped him. We hadn’t gone that far before and I wasn’t ready for that. I was taught that sex was special and I was a virgin. He didn’t care. And he was stronger than me. And he had been drinking and I had been drinking so finally, I stopped fighting and I just laid there.” Her voice took on a wooden quality. A dry dusty voice, emotionless, a voice used to keep the pain from hurting too much.





“He pulled my clothes off and took his off. The whole time I was thinking about my Dad. How ashamed he would be of me for not fighting. I felt dirty…and cheap. I kept my eyes closed…while he slobbered…all over my body and…put…put his fingers where no one had ever put their fingers. I was raped by my boyfriend.” Rebekah started crying. Katherine buried her face in her hands and sobbed – sharing her mother’s anguish. Every girl in the room was crying.





Wesley stood and walked out of the room. Halfway down the hall, he stopped and leaned his head against the wall. Fighting back tears, and wanting to hit something, he waited until he had himself under control before moving into the bathroom and grabbing several rolls of toilet paper. Carrying them back into the den, he passed them out and apologized, “I need to get the other kind of tissue I guess. Sorry, this is the best I can do.”





The girls smiled their thanks and, unrolling large pieces, wiped their eyes, and blew their noses.





“Thank you,” Rebekah said to Wesley. Her nose and eyes were splotchy red and parts of her face still glistened with tears. She smiled bravely and Wesley loved this woman for the courage she showed by sharing this long buried pain with the group.





“What happened then?” Katherine was the only one who could ask the question that was on everyone’s mind.





“After he finished with me, I dressed and left. It had started raining. I walked in the rain for hours. There was not enough rain to wash him off me or to wash away what he had done to me. I got sick, of course,” there was muted laughter, “and I missed three days of class. I didn’t speak that whole time. Not to anyone. I pretended I had laryngitis because I knew if I spoke then I would eventually tell what happened. And if I told anyone then it would become real. I didn’t want it to be real. I didn’t want to hear my rape story told out loud.”





“You ever see him again?”





“We never went out again. He came around while I was sick and tried to act like nothing was wrong. And I guess, for him, nothing was wrong. I never spoke to him again.” She took a long drink of water.





“Does Dad know?” Wesley felt like the air rushed out of the room. Every girl was staring at Rebekah.





Rebekah moved behind Katherine and encircled her neck from behind with her arms and kissed the top of her head. “My darling, your dad was the only person I ever told before tonight. I didn’t want to move forward with a real relationship without being totally honest with him.”





“What did he say?”





“My darling, your dad is a hero in a lot of ways. He is also the best man I have ever known. After I told him, he put his arms around me and promised that no man would ever touch me again without my permission.”





Katherine broke from her mom’s embrace and moved around behind the sofa and clenched her mom in a tight embrace. After a moment when every girl there felt jealous of Katherine and proud of Rebekah, they all stood and joined in a group hug.


*****


Wesley’s prayer that night consisted of simply remembering that scene and thanking God for allowing him to be part of that.