PETER’S PATH

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: CHRISTIAN FELLOWSHIP

Mom passes the message on each time Bob phones, and each time Peter tells her he will call back, but with everything else happening Peter never gets around to it. He really isn’t interested in Bob and his Bible study group. This time however, Peter answers the phone. Bob is glad to hear that Peter’s doing just fine. And there’s a new Bible study class starting up in three weeks, and perhaps he would like to drop by first and see if he likes it. And after all, he had promised to come. And there’s still time to register for the last summer camp at Communion Lake if he’s interested. And if he is there’s good news, a member of the congregation, a well known local businessman will pay for his camp fee. And there’s more good news, a Crusade for Christ is being held at the War Memorial Arena, and that well known evangelist from North Carolina, Gilbert Pentecost is going to preach and many young people are expected to step forward.

Peter wants to say “No”, but doesn’t want to be rude. And just as his mind is concocting an excuse based on his visiting grandmother from California, Mom walks in limiting his freedom of expression on the phone. Bob gets Peter to again admit that he had promised. What the Hell. Why not? With a get it over with attitude Peter says he’ll go. The meeting’s at seven o’clock. The fact that the Old North Highway has been recently repaved influences his decision. Ceoffrey has raved about it, and it’s been a few days since Peter’s been on a good skate.

Peter gets ready, picking out his newest pair of designer jeans and his best jacket he seldom wears. I should have said “No”, I really should’ve, but anyway. And I’m a real sinner now, not like when I knew Eddie. Like I think I was really believing for a while but then I sort of forgot about it. I did read the pamphlets Bob left me and I tried to understand them. But you have to believe all these other things, and some of them seem stupid, before they make any sense. And that doesn’t make sense itself. And one of them, he said was real important, what it really says is that you shouldn’t even play with yourself. I mean that’s REAL STUPID, especially when you’re starting to get hairs and it’s more fun. What ARE you supposed to do with it, just leave it there? Even Lars says don’t worry about it. Like sins should be something really bad. I don’t steal much but I bet some of my sins are whoppers, like with Bill, but then there’s the money and I was going to give some to Mom. And like there’s so many sins. Eddie told me a lot and there’s all those ones the Sunday morning preachers on TV talk about, like smoking and drinking, and Hustler Magazine, and even a lot of rock and roll. And there’s a whole bunch of other things I haven’t had a chance to try yet. Sins are like government all over again—things you can’t do. Maybe religion gets to try out ‘don’ts’ or ‘shalt nots’ first and if enough people like them they make them into laws. But I don’t think they can put you in jail for things that are just sins and I found out you don’t have to rush into getting saved or born again. I saw this movie on TV and you can wait until the last minute before you die, and that makes a real big deal out of it. And that way you can have more fun while you’re living. Like all your sins get forgiven anyway and I figure if you don’t do anything real bad it doesn’t matter when you get saved.

Peter arrives early, finds the side steps leading down to the basement hall, the door is open, and skateboard in hand he peers in. Three girls in their late teens are sitting around reading Bibles at the far end by a blackboard. The tall one with a small mouth and a yellow dress comes over to him and asks, “Are you Peter? Bob said you might be coming.”

“Yeah. Am I early?”

“Oh no Peter. Do come in… This is Tricia, Peter.” a plumpish blond girl wearing not quite granny glasses extends her hand and says hello. “And Lydia.” by far the prettiest with long dark hair and thick eyebrows. She smiles as she takes his hand. “And I’m Celeste,” The overwhelming innocence in her eyes and the pallid nakedness of her face give Peter a vague uneasiness. “And there’s still Marylou, Daphne and Wilbert to come.”

“Wilbert?” Peter’s relieved he won’t be the only boy.

“Yes,” Celeste explains, “he’s only eleven but we all voted for him to join us. And Bob will be here soon.” Marylou and Wilbert arrive soon after, and with introductions barely complete, Bob comes in with Daphne, the youngest girl at fourteen.

“Peter!” Bob raises his eyes towards the ceiling, “We are so glad to see you here this evening.” He places a hand on Peter’s shoulder, “We’ve prayed for you, and the Good Lord has heard our prayers and brought you here. Praise the Lord.” Bob bows his head and the others follow. “Father, we thank Thee…” Peter’s a bit confused by what’s happening and being said, but he assumes that he is the ‘lost sheep’ Bob’s referring to. However the prayer is soon over and Peter finds himself the centre of attention and feels out of place in his jeans and mohawk, although none of the young earnest faces, or Bob, indicate any awareness of it. He feels more relaxed.

“Peter,” Celeste modestly approaches, “I want you to know I prayed every day for more than a month that you would join us. Bob told us you were a friend of Eddie’s in hospital… And I know it was God who brought you here, but I want to thank you too for coming.”

“Yeah, well I did.” Peter replies.

“Peter,” Lydia leans over, I want to thank you too, and personally welcome you to our Christian fellowship. And if you like, you can share my Bible during the lesson.”

“But I was already going to ask him.” Celeste objects meekly. “But it doesn’t matter, it’s all Cod’s word.” Peter’s confused but then Tricia has an extra Bible and graciously places it in his hands. Then Celeste volunteers to show Peter her work book and gets Him to sit down beside her. He notices she has big boobs for a skinny chic. And with those devout eyes and permanently startled eyebrows, he imagines her in a black turtleneck and with perhaps the most kindly impulse in his life he says, “You’d look real pretty if you spiked your hair and wore lots of eyeshadow.”

“But that would be sinful.” Celeste seems guiltily aware of the temptation. “Like Peter…” She sees his mohawk and stops, embarrassed. Peter notices and smiles. “I mean there’s nothing wrong with things like that in themselves, it’s just… you know what I mean. If you come to the crusade, I hope you do, Gilbert Pentecost, I never miss his radio program, like you can tell he’s sincere and I’m sure the Lord speaks through his lips… it’s just that there’s all these ways that the Devil tries to lead us astray. He’s leading this campaign against pornography, ALL OF IT, not just the violent porn against women and children. And his wife, she’s such a saintly person and is one of the founders of SWAP, the Society of Women Against Prostitution. And they’re both active in the war against all these terrible drugs, like even caffeine. It’s all part of the Devil’s plan to corrupt people, to prevent them from hearing God’s Word.

Opening prayers rescue Peter from replying, he didn’t know what to say anyway. Peter mumbles along occasionally glancing sideways at the others and tries to get the feel of it. He’s a bit more comfortable when with Tricia at the keyboard they sing a couple of hymns, one of which Peter has heard on TV a few times. And then the lesson begins. He tries to follow and stay on top, and the pieces seem to fit into each other but he can’t figure out where the whole thing goes. And when Bob asks him if he has any questions, he manages to think of a couple, but they aren’t the ones that Bob answers. And it’s supposed to be clear and logical although some things you have to accept on faith, quite a lot as a matter of fact. And there’s no way he can doodle while he listens. When they have a break after what seems like more than an hour, Bob comes over and places a hand on his shoulder and asks, “How are you doing? Do you need any help?”

“Well I can’t quite figure out everything.”

“I’m sure you will come to understand, it is all a matter of faith.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You believe, don’t you?”

“You mean in God and Jesus?”

“In salvation, in saving your soul from eternal damnation. In Jesus that He suffered, oh how He suffered and died to save you from your sins. And that He takes the burden of your sins from you and grants you divine forgiveness so that on Judgment Day you shall rise up, resurrected, and dwell with God, and achieve everlasting life… You want THAT?”

“Well sure.”

“You believe in your heart son?”

“Well I guess.”

“Let us pray.” Bob angles a chair to Peter’s and sits down. He buries his head in one hand, holding Peter’s with the other. “Our Father who art in Heaven, Hallowed be Thy name…”

Peter knows most of the words to this one and follows Bob aloud. After the ‘amen’ he asks, “How can you tell if you’re doing it right?”

“You feel it in your heart, son.” Bob clasps his chest.

“I mean do you really feel something, like different? I know He doesn’t talk back or anything.”

“Pardon?”

“I mean like what. Is it supposed to tingle? Or do you get a buzz or something?”

The lesson resumes and Peter tries hard, trying to believe all the things that don’t make sense otherwise. I guess that’s when you got to start believing. By the end of the lesson Peter believes he’s believing quite a bit, but he’s still not sure. Bob pats him on the shoulder as he goes to help the girls with refreshments. Peter returns the Bible to Tricia and thanks her. “You’re welcome.” Tricia says, “And I hope you like my nanaimo bars.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“And Lydia brought caramel chip cookies and Bob’s making his special hot chocolate… with cinnamon.”

While Bob and the girls are in the kitchen Peter goes over to Wilbert who is sitting by himself, Bible in hand. He looks a bit like a midget in his beige gabardine suit and red tie. By way of starting a conversation Peter asks him, “Do you read the Bible a lot?”

“I’m not reading,” Wilbert looks up at him, “I’m memorizing passages. And when I have them memorized I practice talking about them, so I’ll be able to spread the Word.”

“You going to be a preacher?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking… actually it’s my mother’s idea, that TV is the way to go, something like Ernest Angles or Jimmy Swaguard.”

“Yeah, I watch them sometimes. I figure they’re pretty smart and you can sure learn a lot.”

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Content of this website is released with ‘copyleft’ license, that is you are free to copy, redistribute or use it for your own purposes provided you retain the present copyleft notice including my name and contact information, allowing others to subsequently reuse the material.  Robin Sharpe, crankyman98@gmail.com.