Johnny (Part Three)

The meal was finished around seven-thirty and the Cramblit's company stayed with them for a while talking in the family room. Johnny's parents, his aunt and uncle, and the Neasons sat together drinking coffee and discussing politics and current events, now more safely because Nanny had excused herself and gone off to bed. Joshua joined them, but kept quiet. Johnny also sat with them for a while. A few months ago he would have gone down to the cellar with the other teenagers to listen to music and play pool, but he didn't feel much like a kid anymore. Six months of training had changed him, matured him, and the uniform he wore made him feel out of place with the kids who were roughly his age. But he soon realized after about half an hour with the adults, that he didn't feel right there either.
It was a strange feeling, stuck between two ages and two very different worlds, and he found himself longing for the company of the other police cadets at the academy. It almost scared him to think that they were the only people he would ever feel comfortable with again, but it also filled him with a sense of pride. He was a part of something that the people in this room could never understand. He hadn't realized what the training and education would do for him.
But he stayed with them for most of the night, not because he wanted to join in their conversation, which he did to the best of his ability, but because he wanted to keep an eye on Joshua. He was concerned about the strange things that Joshua had told him, and while Johnny was sure that his brother was neither a Christian nor a Christian Sympathizer, he was afraid that if Joshua said any of those things around Peter Neason, or even Uncle Howard who was also very anti-religious, he could get himself into the trouble.
Whenever the subject of religious deviance came up, Johnny watched his brother closely. He didn't say anything to either attack or support the fanatics. There were times that Johnny was sure Joshua was biting his tongue to keep from saying something, but he was careful not to say anything at all. The others were so into their conversations that nobody noticed Joshua's silence. Johnny noticed, though. Joshua had never been a quiet person. He had always been respectful and polite, but never quiet. His opinions had always been known, except for tonight. Maybe he was worried that if he said any of the things he had told Johnny an hour before, the others might miscontrue his statements and attack him, maybe even report him.
Finally, Uncle Howard decided that it was time for him and his family to leave. He asked Aunt Anne to go down and get Harold, but Johnny, anxious to get away from what he considered to be a rather boring and redundant conversation, offered to do it. He went down to the cellar. Sure enough, loud music was blaring from the stereo and Steve and Harold were busy playing a game of pool. Steve was winning.
Johnny looked for Aimee and Kelly and found them sitting on the sofa at the other end of the large cellar talking and giggling in that annoying way that girls had. When they saw him come in, Aimee whispered something to Kelly. Kelly acted as if what she had just heard was disgusting, but Aimee looked at Johnny and waved. Despite feeling like an adult and proudly sporting his uniform, Johnny could feel his face flushing bright red.
Taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the girls, he went to the pool table.
"Harold," he said. "Your dad wants to get going. You better get on up there."
"Fine by me," Harold said. "Your fat brother's beating me anyways."
Harold took one more futile shot at the seven ball, scratched, and then went upstairs without saying another word.
"Awe man," Steve said. "I was kicking his a__!"
"Too bad," Johnny said. He turned to go back upstairs.
"Johnny, wait!" Steve called. "Can't you just finish out the game? We haven't played in six months."
Johnny looked at the table. Harold had been shooting solids and had six balls left on the table compared to just two of Steve's. Harold would have lost in two more shots, but Johnny was a little better than that. He picked up Harold's cue, grateful for a diversion from the boredom upstairs. It was Steve's shot, and after Harold's scratch, he had a good one. He sunk one ball easily and managed to set up the second shot nicely. Johnny was sure that he wouldn't even get a chance to play, but Steve missed and it was his turn.
"So," Steve asked as Johnny prepared to shoot, "how was the academy?"
"Not bad," Johnny said. "It would have killed you."
"That's why I ain't gonna be a cop," Steve said. "But it seems right for you somehow. That uniform looks right on you."
"Thanks," Johnny said, and he shot at the seven ball that Harold had missed. He sank it easily and went for the next ball.
"Yeah, and with Joshua as a doctor and Kelly getting a scholarship offer in her junior year," Steve went on, "mom's been on my case to start cracking down and do something with my life."
"You're fourteen," Johnny said, as he sank another ball. "You've got plenty of time."
"Yeah," Steve said. "But you knew what you wanted to be when you were five, and look at you. And Josh has always wanted to be a doctor."
"Your music..."
"Yeah," Steve said. "Mom's not too thrilled about that."
Johnny sank a third ball and then a fourth.
"Hey, does Josh seem different to you?" Steve asked.
"What do you mean?" Johnny said.
"It's like, oh I don't know. It's like he's changed or something. He's quieter, but he seems happier. Do you think he met a woman at medical school or something?"
"If he did," Johnny said, "I think he would have told us."
"Something's different, though," Steve said. "I can't figure it out, but I'm sure of it."
"He's growing up," Johnny said, sinking two balls in one shot and moving towards the eight ball. "We all are." As he said this, he glanced over at Aimee and he was sure that she was looking at him with a whole lot more respect and even affection than when they had last met. Johnny sank the eight ball.
"Good game," he said smiling. He put the cue on the rack on the wall and left the cellar. He probably would have stayed a while longer, but he was uncomfortable discussing Joshua with Steve. He wasn't the only one to notice, but he was probably the only one who had heard his opinions of Christians.
Back upstairs, Uncle Howard and his family had left and it seemed that his father's conversation with Peter Neason was coming to a close. Joshua was nowhere to be seen. Johnny went to look for him and found him at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee.
"Hey," he said, sitting down across from his brother.
"Hey," Joshua said. "What's up?"
"Just wanted to get away," Johnny said. "You know, I thought I would feel more comfortable with the adults than the kids tonight, but I don't."
"I was the same way when I was eighteen," Joshua said. "Eventually you force yourself to act like a grown up, and soon you realize you aren't acting anymore."
The brothers sat there silently for a moment. Joshua sipped at his coffee, which Johnny could tell by the smell was Martian Blend. The soil on Mars was richer than that on earth since the terraforming experiments and things grown there had a distinct rich flavor.
"So," Johnny said, "Mom tells me you hardly ever come home since moving back the city."
"Yeah," Joshua said. "You know how it is. You leave home for a while and when you come back, it's not the same. Besides, that Peter Neason is here almost all the time now, and he's really getting on my nerves."
"He's harmless," Johnny said.
"You think so?" Joshua asked. "When I was working on those Christian prisoners there was this fourteen year old girl. She reminded me so much of Kelly, same hair, same eyes. Anyway, she had been beaten, abused, and raped. No one cared because she was a Christian and she was past the legal age of religious consent. It was like she didn't matter, all because people hate Christians. The cops justified their actions using words from Peter Neason's tracks! Now, tell me he's harmless!"
"The government tracks do not endorse the abuse of religious dissedents," Johnny said, "and I can tell you as a cop, neither do the police."
"Officially, no," Joshua said. "But unofficially... Johnny, you didn't see this girl! Her eyes were swollen shut, her nose broken, three ribs cracked, bruises all over, and... I don't even want to tell you the rest. I still have nightmares about it. And it was all done because of the anger and hatred against the religious deviants propagated by those damned government tracks!"
Johnny didn't know what to say. He was disgusted by Joshua's description of the abuse, and the girl's reported resemblance to Kelly only made it worse, but Joshua was scaring him now more than ever. If Johnny didn't know better, he would have considered his brother a Christian sympathizer. But Johnny did know better. Joshua wasn't talking as a sympathizer, he was talking as a doctor who had seen a human being in distress. That the person was a Christian or the distress caused by police officers wasn't important. Most doctors would react in the same way.
Johnny didn't have to say anything. His brothers outburst had attracted the attention of those in the family room and they had come into the kitchen to see what was happening. Peter Neason stood in the doorway with the others behind him. He was fuming and he glared hard at Joshua.
"What were you just saying?" he demanded. "How dare you speak against the governemt!"
"I am not talking against the government, Mr. Neason," Joshua said. "I'm talking about the beating and rape of a fourteen year old girl who almost died at the hands of people quoting your words!"
"It is not my fault people take my words out of context to support their own crimes!" Mr. Neason replied. "But the girl was old enough to chose her religion, and she knew the consequences of Christianity, didn't she? Everyone knows that some cops can be a little harsh in their treatment of prisoners."
"A little harsh?" Joshua yelled. He stood up from the table and took a step towards Peter. Johnny could see his face clearly, and he looked like he was about to take out all of his frustration over the girl's abuse on Mr. Neason. On instinct, he stood up and grabbed his brother's arm. Mr. Cramblit stepped in front of Peter, who also looked ready to fight.
"Peter," he said, "I think it's time you left. Sorry about all this."
"You're right," Mr. Neason said. "I'm sorry too. I know that Josh didn't mean any harm."
"And neither did you," Mr. Cramblit replied. "Johnny, can you go tell Aimee it's time to go."
"Yeah," Johnny said, looking to make sure his brother had calmed down a bit before releasing his arm. "No problem."
He let his brother go and went back down to the basement. Steve was in one corner with a VR helmet on his head, playing a computer game, and the girls were still on the sofa.
"Aimee," Johnny said, "you're parents are leaving."
"Okay," Aimee said. She hugged Kelly, who had always been her best friend, and got up. She came over and stopped by the stairs and looked up at Johnny. "What's going on up there? I heard yelling."
"Nothing," Johnny said. "Just a little political discussion."
"Oh," Aimee said. She was well aware that her father's views often caused conflicts with even the most loyal citizen of the United Earth. She didn't move to go upstairs.
"Aren't you going to leave?" he asked her.
"In a second," she said. "I haven't talked you in six months."
"You barely talked to me before then," Johnny reminded her.
"I know," she said, "but I always wanted to. You look good in that uniform, Johnny. It suits you."
"Thanks."
"Maybe we can get together sometime before you ship out," Aimee said. "I'd like to catch up with you before you leave for another year."
"Yeah," Johnny said. "I'd like that."
"You got my number," she said. "Give me a call."
She went past him, touching his arm as she left, and went up the stairs. Johnny stood there smiling for a moment before his sister came over and punched him in the arm.
"I don't know what she sees in you," Kelly said. "It has to be the uniform, cause she never liked you before!"
Johnny ignored her. He went back upstairs to make sure that Joshua and Peter Neason didn't end up attacking each other before the Neason's left. The Neason's left without incident and Mr. and Mrs. Cramblit immediately began scolding Joshua for turning their holiday dinner into a big fight. He didn't yell back at them. He just sat there for a few minutes listening to their shouts, and then got up, apologized quietly, and, it seemed, insincerely, grabbed his jacket and left the house.
Johnny went out too, catching him on the porch before he got to his car.
"Josh, wait up!"
"What?" Joshua said. "You want to yell at me too?"
"No," Johnny told him. "I just wanted to make sure that this wasn't the last time I saw you before I left Earth. Let's meet for lunch as soon as you're free."
"I'm off tomorrow," Joshua said. "I'll pick you at eleven."
Johnny nodded and Joshua got into his vehicle without another word. As Johnny watched him fly away towards the skyway, he was more concerned than ever. Even if it turned into a huge argument, he decided then and there that during the next day's lunch, he would find out once and for all what was going on with his brother.
TO BE CONTINUED

To Many Debates?

It seems that more and more of my time is being spent writing some of those nonfiction essay things that somehow get more traffic and comments (albeit, most of them from Wanderer) than my short stories, poetry, and that weird Darkness thing. I want this blog to be a showcase for my fiction, not a place for me to rant and rave about the world around me! But I love to rant and rave about the world around me! It's fun! Many writers love to do it, and I am no different. Sometimes I can just write a short story, poem, or song about an issue (such as "Stikora" or "Civil Disobedience"), but there are times when only one of my longwinded angry rants will do. Then, a good portion of my site is used up on that and my stories get pushed to the background. People come to this site, read those little essays like "The Path to Everywhere" and "XMAS" and don't even realize that I am writing fiction here. Besides, "Dawn is Coming" is classified as a site for Christian Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror stories (so far the only real "horror" story is "The Old Man", but "Darkness" comes close) and those essays do not fit into the category.
I do not want to stop writing them though, so I have a dilema. It's a small dilema, but it is there. So I ask you, faithful readers (Wanderer and the other two of you) this question: Should I continue to waste space on Dawn with my satirical nonfictitious rants, or should I create a new blog just for that and my author's comments (does anyone read those? To me, they're about as important as the stories)? Should I make a new blog where I can complain about society, comment on Christian and religious issues, and just go off on stuff like I sometimes happen to do? Let me know what you think? It would be interesting to see which of the two gets more traffic? Let me know! Comment and tell me what you think. And I may have a sort of "Name that Blog" contest or something if I do make one.
God Bless, ARTHUR B ROBERTS
And please hurry up and let me know because I am preparing one on Intelligent Design and my fingers are just itching to start typing away at it! Where should I put it!
Merry Christmas!

XMAS

I am about to go off on a tangent here. Before I do, let me assure all of my faithful readers (and by all, I mean Wanderer. Hi!) that I have not forgotten about "Johnny" and will continue it soon. It's just that "Tribulation Game" and this post both seemed more important to me at this time. This is another short essay, not a story, poem, or whatever the heck "Darkness" was. And, timely enough, it's about Christmas, the holidays, and the pointless controversy surrounding them. I say pointless because I think that the problems surrounding the holiday season are ridiculous. I say "Merry Christmas!" And I will continue to say it.
At the risk of sounding like an old man at twenty-five, I remember a day when you could hear "Merry Christmas," on television and see the greeting in every store window and in people's decorations. I remember when Thanksgiving marked the day when you would start hearing religious music at the mall and on every radio station because everyone recognized that the Christmas season was about the birth of Jesus Christ. Yes, I am aware that many of our Christmas traditions have their roots in paganism (hi again, Wanderer!) and that Jesus was most likely not born on December 25th. (In "Back to the Future" when Doc Brown entered that date in the time machine it made for a good joke, but had he gone back in time on that day, there was no way he would have seen the birth of Christ. Especially in Hill Valley, California.)
But for all the inaccuracies and non-Christian elements that have seeped into the holiday, and the distortion of the story of St. Nick, Christmas remains a religious celebration of the birth of a man who, despite what you believe about Him, had a lasting impact on the world. He changed it. I would challenge any historian to prove that Martin Luther King Jr., George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, or any other person whose birthday we celebrate (are there any more? I don't remember) had a bigger impact on the world. In fact, it can be argued that without the teachings and influence of Jesus Christ, those other three people I mentioned wouldn't have amounted to much. If we just chose to celebrate this man's birth as a national (actually international, but we'll get back to that) holiday where the banks and schools close and the television stations ran Happy Jesus Christ's Birthday ads on TV, many people would have a fit. Somehow, forcing people to celebrate the birth of a president or a civil rights leader is okay, but forcing them to celebrate the birth of arguably the most influensive person in history is crossing the line. On the other hand, imagine celebrating President's Day without making any mention of America or the presidents themselves. Yeah, you get the day off of school or work and you can spend time with your family, even throw a party, but if you so much as mention Lincoln or Washington, or say the word "America" you have somehow infringed on somebody's freedom! How offensive would it be to celebrate Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday by suddenly making it improper to talk about equality or speak out against racism? Sounds ridiculous, doesn't it. I am offended even thinking about it and I'm the one righting this. But something very similar has happened regarding the birth of Jesus. We can celebrate His birthday as a national holiday, take the day off, spend time with our families, exchange gifts, but it seems to be more and more improper to mention Jesus Christ, to sing a song specifically about his birth, or even say the name of the holiday as it appears on nearly every calendar on the planet! Does that make sense? There used to be signs hanging everywhere saying, "Jesus is the reason for the season!" When I was a kid, I saw these everywhere (one lady left her sign up until May or June one year and when asked about it she said, "Jesus is the reason for every season." Whether she was trying to make a point or just making an excuse for laziness I don't know, but in either case... AMEN!). This year I have seen it one time! ONCE! I remember when the fight used to be over Christmas vs Xmas. Now, even Xmas is offensive because not everyone celebrates it. By that reasoning, we shouldn't celebrate Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday because we might offend racists, and we should avoid President's Day because some poor anarchist might get his feelings hurt.
But what about Hanukkah or Kwanzaa? Shouldn't we use an all inclusive phrase like "Happy Holidays" so as not offend anybody celebrating a different holiday? Sounds fair. But let me point something out. Christmas is a universal holiday celebrated in some way by a majority of the world. You can find Christmas celebrations in Asia, Europe, Australia, Africa, and the Americas. And not just among Christians. Atheists celebrate it every year as the family holiday I described above, even picking that one day a year to sing songs about a God they don't believe in. Even though it isn't Jesus' actual birthday, billions of people choose to celebrate His birth on that day. In fact, most people who celebrate Kwanzaa also celebrate Christmas, so they really wouldn't feel too offended to hear the word Christmas. And as for Hanukkah, and I speak as a person who ethnically is mostly Jewish (long story, but trust me here), considering that Jesus (or Yeshua) is the only Jewish person in history whose birthday most of the world decides to celebrate, shouldn't we Jews be at least a little proud of it regardless of what we believe about Him? Maybe not, but it's a nice thought.
Back to the question. Wouldn't a more politically correct term like "holidays" be more appropriate? I am not about to claim that this is a Christian nation and therefore should celebrate a Christian Holiday, nor am I going to sound like some ignorant redneck and say something like most people celebrate Christmas so the others can just shove it up their... noses and go back to Israel or something. I do not believe either is true. What I do believe is that we can be all inclusive without being exclusive. We can say Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah and Happy Kwanzaa as well as happy Balloon Animal Day, if such a thing existed. Would I be offended if somebody wished me a happy Kwanzaa? Not at all. I don't celebrate that particular holiday, but I wouldn’t go filing a lawsuit or anything.
Which reminds me of a story I heard on the news today. A town had a long tradition of decorating a Christmas tree down town and celebrating Christmas officially as a town. Then a few years back a menorah was put there as well. Now both the major holidays of the season were covered. Nice and inclusive, not offending anybody but the stray Midwest Nazi or ignorant redneck (Can you tell, I take issue with Nazis, rednecks, and also cheerleaders, but I don't know how to work them into my ranting here). Then, this year, someone decided to include a nativity scene. Then there was controversy. Somehow putting a nativity scene on city property violates the First Amendment of the Constitution. What? How in the world can anybody in their right minds equate an image of a historically documented birth with congress passing a law that establishes a religion? Let me say this here, because most people like to tout their opinions on the First Amendment without actually realizing what it says. In order for the "Establishment Clause" to be violated, Congress would have to convene and pass an official bill making Christianity or Islam or Buddhism the national religion. It would have to publicly declare, and pass a law, that makes one religion official while the others would range from deviant to illegal. Short of that, the Establishment Clause has not been violated. There is absolutely NO part of the Constitution of the United States that makes it illegal to have a Christmas pageant in a public school, or restricts school prayer, or even keeps the President from using the name of Jesus in a national prayer. Unless a law is passed that either promotes or restricts any or all religions, the First Amendment has not been violated. In fact, any government endorsed restriction of speech, religious or otherwise, is a violation. Anybody out there realize that banning prayer in school violated the First Amendment? Just a thought.
Anyway, back to the menorah. The candle holder isn't just a symbol of the Jewish race, it's a symbol of the Jewish faith. Hanukkah is a religious holiday, as is every other Jewish holiday, and there are a lot of them. So placing a menorah next to the Christmas tree was a celebration of the Jewish faith, and one that might not exactly please a lot of people (although I sure hope that none of those displeased people would be Christians! After all, Jesus regularly worshiped in a Jewish temple complete with menorahs!). So how come the image of a baby in a manger is offensive while a menorah is not? Why are Americans so offended by this display, when statistics show that a majority of people believe that the Christmas accounts in the Bible are literal and accurate, but the display of a religion that a small minority of Americans celebrate is perfectly acceptable.
Perhaps the real question is "What is so wrong with Jesus?"
Perhaps it was the Jews who were offended. I have already spoken about the fact that the world is coming together to celebrate a Jew’s birthday. But most Jews really don't care if we celebrate Christmas, and as long as we include Hanukkah in our greetings, which really isn't that hard to do, there should be no problem. The problem is that there are people who think that the Jews might be offended. I say this because a few years back when there was a big controversy about the monuments of the Ten Commandment being publicly displayed, someone made the statement that a display of the Ten Commandments would offend Jews. To any educated person, this is the most ignorant statement possible! Any Jew who would be offended by the Ten Commandments is a moron, considering that they only appear twice in the Bible, both of which occur in the "Old Testament." In fact, they are in the writings of Moses, the foundations of Jewish faith. So how would such a display offend Jews? It wouldn't. But liberals in the media seeking to attack Christians any chance they get (okay, Nazis, rednecks, cheerleaders, and the liberal media) picked a minority religion and invented an offense.
This "Happy Holidays" thing is getting ridiculous! I recently saw a commercial that featured drunken ginger bread men (a Christmas staple, of course) at a Holiday party. My first question is how many of these ginger bread men were Jewish? Okay, stupid question, and one I really don't want an answer to. But one of these drunk cookie people stood up on a table and loudly yelled, "Happy Holidays!" Now my second question: What drunken ginger bread man is going to remember in that moment to be politically correct? Okay, also a stupid question.
It seems that we can put up all sorts of displays and Christmas decorations (sorry, holiday decorations. I forgot how important decorated pine trees and dancing snowmen are to the Hanukkah story) and sing all sorts of Christmas songs like "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" but the true meaning of Christmas (please refer here to the end of the Charlie Brown Christmas Special) is somehow taboo! Nativity scenes are offensive and hateful. Christmas is just one of many (3) holidays celebrated this season, and to single it out would offend countless people (about 5% of the population, who probably don't really care anyway).
This tangent is just about over. I really want to get back to real writing. But let me say to everyone, "MERRY CHRISTMAS!" "HAPPY HANNUKAH!" "HAPPY KWANZAA" and just to cover all my bases, "HAPPY BALLOON ANIMALS DAY!"
May your holidays, whatever ones you celebrate, be blessed this year, and remember: Jesus is the reason for the season!
ABR

Tribulation Game

It had been a long day. Danny Baker had gone to school at 8:00 am, taken three very difficult tests, had a grueling hour and half long soccer practice, and had barely made it home in time to shower, dress, and head back out the door. He was not happy about having to head back out again, but his mother insisted that he go to church every time she did and it was Wednesday night and she was going. Instead of sitting back and relaxing, and watching TV, he was going to youth group. He would have stayed home, but he was only thirteen years old and had very little choice in the matter.
It wasn't that youth group was boring. He actually quite enjoyed it, as long as he was feeling up to it. He had been a Christian since he was four years old and had said the sinner's prayer in Sunday School and he loved Jesus with all of his heart. Well, most of it anyway. And the youth group wasn't that bad. The music was cool, almost as good as a real rock band. The other kids were friendly, though a little tame for his tastes. The youth pastor, Pastor Rick, was very cool. He was about thirty years old, but he knew how to act like a teenager. He never wore a suit or tie, he listened to rock and punk and hip hop, said things like "dude" (and sounded genuine when saying them, not like some other poser adults trying to sound cool), and even had an earring. If Danny was feeling a little more rested, he would have really wanted to be there.
But this night he wanted nothing more than to just stay home and watch some mindless sitcom. Instead, there he was in the fifth row in the youth room singing and clapping and trying to look like he was enjoying himself. The church was pretty big, averaging about a thousand people a week, and there were over a hundred teenagers in the room. The youth room was about the size of his school's gymnasium with a small stage at one end on which the praise team was playing, ten rows of chairs all filled with worshiping kids, and couches, chairs, and a couple of pool tables in the back.
He sat between his friends Larry and Kevin. They were his church friends. He went to a public middle school and they both went to a private school. He only hung out with them at the church, but while he was there they were his two best friends. The worship team was playing an upbeat chorus and Danny was getting into it, almost forgetting the stress of the day. Sometime during the second or third song he really began to feel what he believed to be the presence of God and he knew that something important was going to happen that night.
It was during the fourth song that it happened. Pastor Rick practically ran onto the stage, grabbed the microphone that was waiting for him on the small wooden pulpit between the worship team's lead singer and the bass player.
"Stop the music," he said into the mic. A couple of the five musicians on the stage looked at him strangely, but they kept playing. "Stop! Stop the music!" The first one to stop was the bass player. Then the acoustic guitarist, the keyboardist, and finally the electric guitarist and drummer awkwardly stopped playing when they realized they were the last two. They looked confused by Pastor Rick's actions. Everyone in the room looked confused. He had never done anything like this before and he wouldn't have interrupted worship for no reason. Something must have been wrong.
Pastor Rick looked out at the more than a hundred teens in the youth room and said, "The tribulation has begun. Persecution has started. This church is closed." He dropped the microphone on the floor causing a loud booming noise and the brief whine of feedback, and walked off the stage, leaving a hundred kids with a hundred questions.
Danny suddenly felt sick. Was this for real? Had things happened so quickly that the Antichrist had taken control and outlawed Christianity during the half hour between his leaving his house and Pastor Rick's announcement. It didn't seem possible, and he soon realized that even if that had happened, Pastor Rick would have said more than those three short sentences. He would have given more information and instructions. This must be some kind of game or a lesson or something. But that didn't quell the sinking feeling in Danny's stomach. He was actually scared.
"You heard the man!" the worship team's singer told the kids. "This church is closed!"
They didn't know what to do. The youth just stood there for a moment staring blankly at each other.
"What's going on?" Kevin asked Danny. "Is this for real?"
"I don't think so," Danny said. "I think it's some kind of lesson."
"What do we do?" Larry asked. "Do we leave?"
Everyone was asking the same questions. A few were actually headed towards the door. Then a girl about seventeen years old stood up and approached the stage.
"What are you doing?" the singer asked her.
"I won't leave," she said. "You can close the church, but you can't stop me from worshiping!"
Every eye turned to her and most of the kids fell silent. The ones who were leaving turned back to watch. She walked right up to the stage, which doubled as an alter, and bowed down. She assumed a posture of prayer. A few other kids joined her. Danny and his friends were about to go up as well when an older boy came up to them.
"Hey, guys, looking for a place to go to church?" he asked.
"Uh, yeah, I guess," Danny said.
"A few of us are meeting back at the pool tables," the boy said. "Come join us. But keep it quiet!"
As Danny, Kevin, and Larry followed the senior boy to the back of the room Danny realized that this was indeed some sort of lesson, and the seniors, or at least a few of them, were in on it. The boy, a blond skater named Nick, led them to a spot between the two pool tables where half a dozen kids were already in a circle on the floor with their open Bibles in their laps. Feeling a little silly, Danny and his friends joined them.
"Let's open our Bibles to John chapter three," Nick said. They did. Nick began to read about Jesus and Nicodemus in a hushed voice as if he didn't want to be overheard. Danny noticed three other such groups forming around the youth room. Two of them were also led by a senior member or two, but one was formed completely of middle schoolers and Danny guessed that they just decided to form their own group after seeing the others.
"What are you doing here?" came a gruff voice. Danny looked up to see the bass player from the praise team, a large black man named Jeff who was usually very friendly. He looked downright angry and he was standing over them with his arms folded. Even though he knew he was doing nothing wrong, Danny suddenly felt guilty.
"We're just reading," Nick said. "Is there a problem?"
"You're reading a Bible!" Jeff barked. "That's illegal! We're going to have to confiscate those books! Give them here!"
Jeff reached down and took Nick's Bible from him. Then he collected the other Bibles from the rest of the group.
"Break this little group up before I have you all arrested!" Jeff yelled, and he walked over to another circle of kids.
"What do we do now?" Larry asked Nick.
"We pray," Nick said. "Join hands, everyone."
Just a moment after the kids had all joined hands and bowed their heads Jeff returned. He had put the Bibles somewhere and now his hands were free to reach down and yank Nick to his feet.
"You're under arrest!"
Nick didn't resist. Jeff was very convincing as he dragged their leader off towards the door where the sound equipment was stored.
"Don't stop praying!" Nick said. "Don't give up! Keep the faith!"
"Shut up, you Jesus Freak!" Jeff shouted, and he threw Nick into the storage room. "Anybody want to join him?"
There was a commotion at the stage as two other youth leaders were "arresting" the girl who had refused to leave. She too was put in the storage room, along with a few others.
Danny was really getting into this. He knew that it was just a game, a sort of what if scenario about what the members of the youth group would do if the persecution described in Revelation suddenly hit them, but it seemed very real to him for some reason. He had totally forgotten not wanting to come to church that evening. Now he was totally immersed in the fantasy and he could tell by the actions and attitudes of the other kids that most of them were too.
"What are we supposed to do now?" a girl in their circle asked.
"Keep praying," Danny said. "Come on. They can't stop us."
They bowed their heads and began to pray. The scenario was false, but their prayers were real. They all prayed silently, and while Danny couldn't know what the others were saying to God, he felt called to pray for the people around the world who were already facing the reality of the persecution that they were only playing at.
He wasn't sure how long he had been praying, but he was pulled out of it instantly when he felt two hands grabbing him from behind. Jeff had come back to their little underground church (and he was surprised to find that he really thought of it in that way) and had chosen him this time to make his example.
Jeff was dragging him towards the storage room. Before they got there, Larry had run up to the stage and grabbed the microphone.
"Listen to me!" he said. "Everybody listen to me! We have something that they can't destroy! We have faith! They can arrest us! They can beat us! They can even kill us, but..."
"Larry!" it was Pastor Rick. He had unplugged the microphone and was swinging the end of the cable in a circle. "Sorry, but you're dead."
"What?" Larry asked.
"You were just executed for speaking out against the state," Pastor Rick said. He ushered Larry through the double doors that led down the hallway to the youth classrooms. "Anybody else want to join him?"
Danny didn't see what happened next. He was thrown into the storage room with the other kids who had been imprisoned in this little game. There were about twenty in there by now. Half of them were just sitting around waiting for the game to end so that they could leave, but the other half were standing in a circle praying. Danny decided to join them. He moved towards the circle, but the door to the storage room opened again and two of the senior youth members, a boy and a girl, came in. They went right to the circle and broke their way in.
"Who started this little prayer circle?" the girl demanded.
"I did." It was the girl who had first refused to leave.
"Come with me!" the senior girl said. "You are to be executed for inciting a riot in prison!"
"A riot?" another kid asked. "Does this look like a riot to you?"
"Him too," the girl told the other senior. They took the two kids out of the storage room. Before they left, the boy turned back.
"If we catch anybody praying in here again, you'll be killed too!"
As soon as the door was closed, the circle reformed, with Danny now a member of the group. They began to pray, glorifying and worshiping God, and once again Danny felt led to pray for those around the world suffering the same abuses in real life. He also couldn't help but think about what he would do if something like this really happened to him. Would he as brave when threatened with real imprisonment or execution? He could only hope so.
After a few minutes, the kids in the fake prison heard the sound of singing from out in the youth room. Dozens of voices were joining in and singing the song that had been interrupted about a half hour earlier by Pastor Rick. They could also hear the youth leaders and some of the seniors yelling at them to be quiet and disperse, but the singing only got louder.
"What's going on out there?" someone asked.
Then the door opened and two more prisoners were thrown in. The seniors who had arrested them went back out to the youth room without closing the door behind them and those in the storage room went and looked out. Even though Danny knew that this whole thing was pretend, he didn't think that he had ever seen a more beautiful sight. There were about sixty kids who hadn't been arrested or killed and they had joined in a circle around the youth room. They were all holding hands and singing praises to God while those kids and youth leaders who were playing the authorities in this scenario tried to stop them. They were moving around the circle yelling at the kids, but they were ignored. A few were taking kids out of the circle, but whenever one was arrested the circle just closed around the gap and the singing got louder.
Short of arresting and/or killing every kid in the room, there was nothing that the authorities could do to stop it. The frustration in the faces of the authorities, even though they were all faking, was evident as they lost control of the situation. But one man stood on the other side of the room looking very pleased. It was Pastor Rick, and he was smiling at his young congregation as they came together against their adversaries. Finally, he went up to the stage, grabbed a microphone, and stood behind his pulpit.
"Okay, everybody," he said. "That's enough. You can all take your seats again. Somebody let the kids out of the prison, and go and raise the dead while you're at it."
This caused a bit of laughter (though more than half of the kids were in tears) as the prisoners were released and the kids in the hall were let back into the youth room. Everyone sat down and faced Pastor Rick expectantly. He smiled down on them.
"I'm proud of you all," he said. "You did very well in this game of ours. Even better than I had hoped you would. I'm sorry that I sprung this on you without warning, but it was more effective that way, wasn't it?
"Some day the game that we played here today may become a reality for all of us. Even now, all over the world, there are those who face persecution and death for their belief in Jesus, and things are happening here in America that seem to indicate that our own personal tribulations may not be that far off. If the persecution does begin in our own country, there will be many who are imprisoned or killed for their refusal to deny Jesus. Sadly, there will also be many who chose to deny Christ in order to save their own lives. But, I have confidence that if it really did start tonight, most of you kids out there would react the same way you did tonight, by joining together and refusing to renounce your faith."
The youth began to applaud this statement. Danny clapped as hard as he could, wondering what really would happen if he was faced with persecution. He would like to think that he would remain faithful, but tonight's lesson made him question his faith as he had never done so before. He decided then and there to make an effort to make sure that his faith was strong and true. He would much rather be ready to face trials with an assurance of where he stood, than to try and make the decisions when faced with them.
"And one more thing happened tonight that I didn't even plan on," Pastor Rick continued when the applause died down. "I think that we all saw the power of a church that comes together in unity. While you were all meeting on your own and making your individual stands, you were showing your faith and initiative, but you were easily dealt with. Only when you all came together as one and refused to stand down were we powerless to stop you. That's an important lesson for all of us, and one I didn't even expect to have taught tonight.
"And finally, I know that there's a question on some of your minds. Many of you have been taught that the Church will be raptured before any of us have to face some of the things we played out tonight. I'm not going to get into a rapture debate, and personally I believe that we will be gone before the Tribulation, but as a leader I would be very irresponsible if I didn't prepare you for the chance that it may not happen that way. There is some question to it, and you will never hear me preach a pre-trib sermon from this pulpit because if we are all still here in those days I don't want anyone coming to me and saying that you were never warned. Also, even if we are taken away before the last days, we may still face some sort of persecution some day, and I want all of you to be ready for that eventuality.
"Now, if the worship team will come back up here," he finished, "I believe that we were in the middle of a song!"
Danny had forgotten all about not wanting to go to church that night. Now he was very happy that he was there. He had learned more from that little game than he would ever learn from a sermon. He knew that the youth group would be talking about this for a long time to come. Now, as he began to worship again, he knew that no matter what happened in the future, he would remain faithful to his God.
Pastor Rick went to the back of the youth room where the senior pastor, Stephen Markham, was waiting for him with his four year old daughter Meghan sleeping in his arms.
"Well," Pastor Markham said, "how did it go?"
"It was awesome," Rick said. "I think that they really learned a lot."
"Something tells me, Rick, that very soon these kids will have to put what they learned her into practice," Pastor Markham said. "Well, it's getting late and I have to get Meghan to bed. Good night, Rick."
"Good night, Stephen."
Pastor Markham left for the long drive to his cabin near the mountains and Rick stood and watched the youth worship God for a long while, pondering what the pastor had said.

A Very Long Author's Note

This is not Johnny Part 3
During my teenage years I had the fortune to be blessed with some very talented and devoted youth ministers and pastors. More than one of these men and women have left lasting impressions in my life, and their inspiration and love have gotten me through some very rough times. But nothing has stayed with me more than what my first youth pastor did one night when I was thirteen years old. It happened much like the story. In the middle of worship, when everyone was getting "in the spirit" to use a charismatic term, and without any warning, he went up front, grabbed a microphone, and told the worship team to stop playing. "Tribulation is here," he said. "The persecution has started." And that was all he said.
After that, we all began to play it out much the way the characters in the story did. At first, we broke up into small groups of five or six and had what I guess amounted to underground house churches. The youth leaders played the part of the police and they came by and took away our Bibles, broke up our groups, and told us that if we didn't stop, we would be arrested. So, we went to the front of the youth room (this being sort of a mega church there were over one hundred youth and the room, which doubled as the fellowship hall, was larger than most other churches I have been in) and began to publicly proclaim the name of Jesus and announce that we wouldn't be shut down. I got right up on the stage and began to declare that nothing that the "government" could do would shut us up. "They may arrest us, beat us, kill our bodies..." that's as far as I got. I was interrupted by the youth pastor. I had the honor of being the first to be martyred in this little scenario and had to spend most of the evening in the hallway adjacent to the youth room.
The hallway was very long and led to an exit, which led someone to quip, "We're dead, we're in a long tunnel, there's a bright light at the end, and it says 'exit!'" Someone later said that they were disappointed that nobody went and laid hands on the door to that hallway to resurrect the martyrs (I was the first, but hardly the last), but nobody did.
We did peak out and watch what was happening though. Eventually the rebellious band of Christian rebels that we had become joined together. A circle was formed and the ones who hadn't been sent into the martyrs' hallway stood hand in hand unmoving. They had come together in unity and that was when the "authorities" became completely powerless. They couldn't stop the Christians and if it was possible to win at that little game, we did. I say we because even though I was "dead" for most of this game, I was still a part of that force.
I can't help but think about what it will be like some day in the future when we as Christians will be faced with a situation much like this. The American Church takes our religious freedom for granted, but for nearly two thousand years all over this planet Christians have been persecuted, arrested, mistreated, and killed for their beliefs. The majority opinion seems to be that we will all be raptured into Heaven before such atrocities reach the western world. Personally, I do not believe in a pretribulation rapture, at least in the way that it is usually presented. I tend to think that many of the warnings in scripture about the last days, the antichrist, the persecution of believers, and the plagues described in Revelation are intended for us, not for some group of post rapture believers who suddenly realize that Christianity was right all along when the Christians disappear.
I don't want to start a debate, and you are free to disagree. We can argue all night long about when the rapture will happen, have completely opposite opinions, and still both go to Heaven. It's not that I don't want to be raptured, nor will I, if it does happen as is popularly believed, argue with God and ask Him to send me back, but I have searched the Scriptures and have come to this belief based on that search. Maybe I'll write about that in another post, but not today. Right now, before anyone calls me a heretic for believing in a mid-to-late-tribulation rapture (as some actually have) let me remind everyone out there in cyberspace of an old saying: Unity in what is essential, liberty in nonessentials, and in all things charity. If we as Christians lived by that simple rule, there would be a lot less conflict within the Church and we might even have a better reputation in the world.
I may have gone off on a tangent there, but my little "please don't start arguing" disclaimer actually fits right into my point here. I learned at the age of thirteen in that youth room in Rochester, New York, that when the body of Christ comes together and works together, we will be undefeatable! If someday in the future it is illegal, even in America, to worship God, do you think that it will matter to anyone if you are a Baptist, a Methodist, a Catholic, or a Messianic Jew? (For more on this, go into my archives and read "The Enforcers." This story is kind of a prequel anyway) Do you think it will matter if you believed in predestination or used grape juice instead of wine? Do you think it will make a difference when we are being arrested for calling on the name of Jesus if we believe he was hung on a cross or a tree? If it will, if our little disagreements that have distracted the Church for centuries from the message of the Cross of Jesus Christ (or the Tree) will continue to divide us when we are being hunted down and chased from hideout to hideout, then I think the Church has lost all hope of being what Jesus intends it to be. How many theological debates do you think were going on among the prisoners waiting to be killed in the Coliseum?
We need to come together in these last days, not drift further apart. Yes, there are a lot of false doctrines out there, lies that come from Satan intended to derail the Salvation of many. But there are also many disputable things that have divided us for too long. If you believe in the Biblical Jesus Christ, if you believe that He was God in the flesh, if you believe that He lived without sin, was crucified, died, and resurrected on the third day, and if you believe that it is ONLY by His shed blood that we are saved, then I agree with you, and I don't care if you speak in tongues, believe in predestination, go to church on Saturday, or have electric guitars or organs in your worship service. Jesus said that a house divided against itself cannot stand. We as the Western Church are divided. If the day comes, and I fully believe it will, when we must choose between our faith and our lives and the powers that be try to destroy the Body of Christ on Earth, if we are still bickering over the nonessentials, we will be easy pickings.
One more example: America is currently at war. What if instead of fighting the terrorists, the Marines suddenly decided to attack the Army, who was too busy shooting down Air Force and Navy jets because they didn't like their uniforms? If the different branches of the United States military were destroying each other, what would be left for our nations enemies to do but sit back and watch? Why should Satan attack our churches when we're already doing the job for him?
Anyway, like I said, of all that I have learned in churches and Christian schools over the past twenty-five some odd years, nothing has stayed with me like that night. Maybe it's because of the lessons I learned. Maybe it's because that was my first youth group and my first youth pastor. Maybe it's because that was the first time I ever really thought about the end times. I can't describe the feeling I had when the youth pastor told us that the persecution had begun. I can only imagine that if I live to see the antichrist come to power, the feeling would be the same. Or maybe it's because Christian recording artist Michael Peace was playing drums in the praise band. He was the only famous man I had ever met. (I know, most of you are probably saying "who?" but he was a rap artist who had a Christian recording contract long before the likes of Pigeon John and KJ52, both of whom I have also met, but I doubt either of them remembers me). But I was thinking about that night recently and decided that if I fictionalized it and changed it up a bit, it would make an interesting story. I hope you all enjoyed it!
Sorry that this little author's note turned out to be so long. I just felt that some of the above things needed to be said. And part three of "Johnny" is coming very soon. Keep checking back!
God Bless, and Merry Christmas (are we still allowed to say that? Don't get me started, it's getting late and my hands are getting tired)
ABR

Johnny (Part Two)

Johnny got off of the transport shuttle outside of his family home. He had somehow expected it to look different to him, but it was exactly the same as it was when he had left six months earlier. It was a large, two story, late twenty first century house with a big porch. He climbed the stairs and stood on that porch awash with thousands of childhood memories before ringing the door chime. He hadn't told his family when he was coming home because he had wanted to surprise them. It was December twentieth, the anniversary of Joshua Lewis's famous speech and the Enlightened Society's biggest holiday and he knew that there would probably be a few family members there to greet him, but he wasn't expecting Joshua to answer the door. He lived about thirty miles away on the other side of town and according to his mother's communications he hadn't been to the Cramblit home much since moving back to Capitol City.
"Johnny!" Joshua said. "I didn't know you were coming home!"
"Hey, Josh," Johnny said. He embraced his elder brother and then came into the house.
"I see that the academy didn't do too much for that belly of yours!" Joshua laughed, patting Johnny on his rather ample gut. Johnny was in pretty good shape for a man his size, but he was very overweight. It had been a concern during his training, but he had surpassed all expectations and had proven to his instructors that his big belly was not going to hinder his promising career in the least.
"Shut up, Josh," he said. "What you are referring to is my greatest weapon! Remember how I used to beat you up all the time?"
"You never beat me up," Josh said, "you just sat on me until I couldn't breathe anymore."
"Exactly." Johnny looked closely at his brother, remembering again the respect and admiration he had for the older man. He had had a good childhood, and most of the best memories of that childhood involved Joshua Cramblit. Now, they were both men in respectable positions in the community with nothing but a bright future before them. It was hard to believe that the boy who once held him down and shaved his eyebrows on a dare was now a doctor, and the boy whose eyebrows had taken two months to grow back a police officer.
Johnny noticed something else about his brother. He looked happy for the first time since Johnny could remember. The brothers knew each other better than anybody, and Johnny knew that even though Joshua hid it well behind a friendly personality and a broad and convincing smile, he was not a particularly happy person. Johnny had never said anything about it, though. He allowed his brother to put on the charade, always wondering what Joshua believed was missing from his life that would make him happy. The Cramblits were well off, well adjusted, and powerful people in the Enlightened Society. The children had never been neglected or abused. They had had everything they needed and most of what they wanted. Joshua was popular, good looking, successful with women, and still none of it seemed to satisfy him.
Now, Johnny looked at him and saw a man who seemed happy. Perhaps getting his medical degree and establishing a practice had finally given Joshua Cramblit what he thought he needed. He had always wanted to help people. But maybe it was something else. He would have to ask him about it later, though, because now the house's front room was being filled with family members and a few friends who had heard him come in and were racing in to greet him.
"Johnny!" It was his mother. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tightly. "Let me look at you, boy! You look so good in that uniform!"
"I'm surprised they found one that fit," his little brother Steve said from the stairs. Fourteen year old Steve wasn't much thinner, but he was known within and without the family for his often mean spirited sense of humor.
"Stop it, Steve," Mrs. Cramblit said. "You would do well to follow your bother's example. Either one of them."
"No thanks, Mom," Steve said. "You don't have to go to college or an academy to be a musician."
"But you do need talent," Johnny shot back, making the dozen people in the room laugh. Johnny sniffed the air. "Is that turkey?"
"Dinner's almost ready," Mrs. Cramblit said. "I suppose we could find enough in the kitchen for one more plate."
"Good luck with that, Mom," Steve said, racing towards the dining room.
"Things haven't changed much around here," Johnny laughed.
Johnny sat at the dining room table between his two brothers and across from his sixteen year old sister Kelly. His father sat at the head of the table and his mother sat on his left. His uncle Howard sat between his wife Anne and their son Harold, who was almost twelve. His father's best friend Peter Neason had also come over for the holiday dinner with his wife Sarah and their seventeen year old daughter Aimee, who Johnny had always thought was both very pretty and very out of his reach. The last person at the table was Johnny's grandmother, simply known as Nanny. She was over eighty years old, growing slightly senile, and very outspoken about a lot of things. Her age protected her, because if a younger, more rational person had shared some of the same opinions publicly, they would have been accused of crimes against the government.
"Shall we say grace?" Mr. Cramblit said when the food was all on the table and the people all seated. Everyone bowed their heads. "Dear Cosmic Parent, we thank you for this food and for the time that family and friends can gather together to celebrate each other. We thank you also for our son Johnny and ask for his protection as he goes to train in two weeks. May this time be pleasant for all. May we all grow to recognize those parts within us that can become so like you in your cosmic love. In the name of Joshua Lewis, the son you sent to guide us to enlightenment, Amen."
"Amen," repeated everyone at the table. Almost everyone. Johnny noticed a strange expression on Joshua's face during the prayer, almost as if he was disagreeing with their father's words, and he didn't say "amen" after the prayer. But he had no time to think about that. He was too busy piling turkey, stuffing, and vegetables onto his plate.
Dinner was great. His mother's cooking was much better than the food provided at the police academy, and knowing that the food on the prison transport ship wouldn't be much better than that, he was going to enjoy all the good food he could get before it was too late. Conversation was pleasant at first. Everyone asked Johnny questions about his training and about his assignment. His parents, Kelly, Joshua, and even Steve were looking very proudly at him as he answered all the inquiries, and he even thought he saw Aimee looking at him in a new way. Maybe his uniform helped her to see him in a new light. He hoped so.
But conversation soon turned sour when Peter Neason, who wrote some of the propaganda tracks for the government, mentioned a piece of current events that was sure to spark a lively discussion at the Cramblit's dinner table. Mr. Cramblit had often warned him not to bring such things up, especially with Nanny around, but Peter rarely listened.
"I'll bet you're itching to get back to Earth and start enforcing some laws, eh Johnny?" he said. "They probably could have used a man like you down town this morning."
Johnny, who had been on a transport shuttle and out of the news loop, asked, "What happened down town today?"
"They busted up a church service," Peter said. Then he sneered, "Christians! Meeting in an old subway tunnel. There must have been fifty of them!"
"What were they doing?" Steve asked. The last group of religious offenders to be rounded up had been planning on assassinating Capital City's mayor.
"Singing," Peter said. "They were singing one of those old songs about how we're all evil and only Jesus can save us, or some sh__ like that. Pathetic. You would think after fifty years, such ignorant hate speech would be gone!"
"So they weren't hurting anybody?" Nanny said. "Since when is it illegal to get together and sing? What's next, raiding karaoke bars?"
Even though Johnny thought that the subversive and out of date teachings of the old Christian Church were dangerous and needed to be squashed, his grandmother's comment caused him to laugh.
"There were children there!" Peter replied to the old lady. "Little kids being brainwashed by those fanatics to hate the government and try and destroy everything that Joshua Lewis brought to our world! They were hurting people!"
"He's right," Uncle Howard said. "You know that when Lewis first came on the scene, many Christian fundamentalists called him the Anti-Jesus, or something like that."
"Antichrist, dear," Anne said.
"Yeah," Howard said. "And they said that with Lewis in charge, the world would be gone in seven years! They're about forty three years too late for that."
"Not everyone said he was the Antichrist," Nanny said.
"Yeah," Peter said, "the ones who didn't call him that joined the government church! The very fact that we're still here proves the Christians wrong!"
"Peter, that's enough," Mr. Cramblit said.
"No!" Peter said. "Something needs to be done! Now that you've got a cop in the family, maybe you can finally do something about those fanatics!"
"There are many laws that need enforcing, Mr. Neason," Joshua said. "Johnny may not be assigned to the religion task force."
"If I were him," Peter said, "I would request to be. There's no greater threat to the Enlightened Society than those fanatics and their backwards views. They blew up the Golden Gate Bridge last year, remember?"
"That was Muslims, not Christians," Johnny said. "There is a difference."
"They teach you that at the academy?"
"Actually, Mr. Neason, they do," Johnny replied. "A big portion of our studies involves the differences and similarities in deviant religious groups and how to deal with them. Muslims are more combative, more prone to violence. Their threats are much more tangible than the Christians. Most Christians wouldn't resort to violence, but their message is what's the dangerous part. It's sneaky and non threatening, but if allowed to spread, it would greatly damage our society."
"So they must be stopped!" Peter said. "Johnny agrees with me!"
"We all agree with you, Peter," Mrs. Cramblit said. Nanny snorted, but they all ignored her. "But this is hardly appropriate dinner conversation. Let's talk about something else."
"Fine," Peter said. "Joshua, how are things down at your office?"
There was no reply. They all looked to see that Joshua had left the dinner table. Nobody notice him go.
"Maybe he's in the bathroom," Kelly said.
"Anyway," Mr. Cramblit said, "Krista, you've outdone yourself this year! Dinner is excellent!"
And they went back to eating. They began talking about pointless and noncontroversial things like the weather and the new class of transport shuttles. When Joshua hadn't returned to the table after five or ten minutes, Johnny went looking for him.
He found his brother sitting on the back porch. It was getting dark and thick snow was falling, but he wasn't wearing a jacket. He was bent over, his head cradled in his lap.
"Hey, Josh," Johnny said. "What happened to you? You okay?"
Joshua looked up. "Yeah, Johnny. I'm fine. I just couldn't listen to that conversation anymore."
"Yeah, Mr. Neason can get a bit annoying at times," Johnny agreed, sitting on the porch steps beside his brother. "I guess it comes from writing all those government tracks."
"How can he sit there and spew all that hate about people and then call them haters?" Joshua almost yelled. "It's ignorant! I know Christianity is illegal, but if you know anything about what they teach, they don't promote hate!"
"Peter Neason writes literature about Christians for the government," Johnny said. "I think he knows a little about them. Besides, wasn't it Christians who used to lynch homosexuals and blow up abortion clinics?"
"Some of them, maybe," Joshua said, "but if you got to know them, you would see that there's so much more to Christianity than gay bashing and murdering doctors."
"If you got to know them?" Johnny asked. "When have you gotten to know Christians?"
Joshua looked at Johnny with an expression he'd seen many times before. It was the look he had when he realized that he had just said something that was going to get him into trouble. If Joshua was associating with Christians, it would be enough to imprison him for a year. But the expression was gone as soon as it had appeared.
"A couple of years ago," he began, "while I was in med school, we were called to an emergency situation. There was a government raid on a church group meeting, a lot like the one Mr. Neason was talking about today, and a few of the prisoners had been wounded. They needed medical attention. They didn't want to waste the resources and time of any licensed doctors, so they took a few students and killed two birds with one stone. They got their prisoners treated, even though they would probably be mistreated for the rest of their lives anyway, and they gave us some valuable field training. I spent almost a week there with them, and I saw how they are. They aren't the hate mongers that Peter Neason tries to make them out to be. They're actually quite friendly."
"You know as well as I do that that is their biggest weapon," Johnny said. "They are deceptively friendly and talk about love and peace and all that stuff, but in the end they snare you. You find yourself wrapped up in their bizarre beliefs and rejecting everything that the Enlightened Society stands for."
"I know that," Joshua said. "But I still think that denouncing hate by spreading more hate is ridiculous."
"You almost sound like a sympathizer," Johnny said. "Maybe you should read one of those tracks again."
"Maybe," Joshua said. He stood up. Johnny stood up as well. "Let's get back to dinner. We probably need to stop Nanny from stabbing Peter with a salad fork or something."
Laughing, the brothers went back inside. Joshua went into the dining room first and sat down as if nothing had happened. Johnny stayed back and looked at his brother for a moment. Some of the things that Joshua was saying had scared him. He hoped that nothing was wrong with him, but he would have to keep an eye out for any further signs. If Joshua was in trouble, Johnny wanted to help him before it was too late.
TO BE CONTINUED

yet another

author's note:
Just a short note about this story...
There is a point where a character in this story uses profanity. I edited it, the literary equivalent of a bleep, because this is a Christian oriented site, even though there is precedent for mild profanity in Christian writings. C.S. Lewis used some in his space trilogy and he is still considered one of the greatest modern Christian writers. Bodie Theone also uses it rarely. But I chose to edit it rather than use the word in its entirety so as not to offend anyone. I could have gotten around it another way. Frank Peretti is pretty good at that, once saying that a character "muttered something about the sanctity of manure." Clever, funny even, but I think most Christians are mature enough to see the words. They hear them everyday in the real world anyway. I hope I didn't offend anybody!
Enough about that. I wrote this story because I wanted to continue the story of Johnny. There will be more of these soon, probably four or five parts, and then I'll probably do another dragon slayer story, so keep checking. Also, since my friend Wanderer was so interested, I felt obligated to continue it. Can you see where it's headed yet? I even named a character after him to keep him happy. And finally, I did it so I could prove that I can still write. I recently submitted a short story for publication to a magazine and it was rejected. For about five seconds my feelings were hurt and I felt like quitting, but that's just dumb. I guess I'm official now, I've gotten my first rejection. Second actually. "There is no Dragon" was rejected by an online magazine because they were looking for Christmas stories. I don't know if that counts. But I wrote this story after the rejection letter. So please tell me you like it or I really will quit! Just kidding.
Anyway, hope you like it. Look for part three in about a week!
God Bless,
ABR

Johnny (Part One)

Johnny Cramblit had always wanted to be a cop. He believed in law and order, and he believed in the ideals of the Enlightened Society, and ever since he was a young boy he had planned to devote his life to the enforcement of the principles that he believed had saved planet Earth from a terrible fate. So, the day after his eighteenth birthday, he went down to the recruitment office and signed up for the police academy. After six months of intensive training and a year or two of on the job training working at a prison, or as he hoped, a prison transport ship, he would take his place as a proud officer of the United Earth Police Force.
In the year 2150, after years of war, disease, poverty, and division among mankind, a new order brought peace to the embattled planet that most historians believed was about to be destroyed by the human creatures who had recently come along after millions of years of evolutionary progress and decided they had the right to treat the world like they owned it. A great man arose after the last war. There were three wars before it that were each called a war that would end all wars, but what became known as World War IV actually accomplished this. Sort of. Peace was called when the New United Nations Secretary General Joshua Lewis made an emergency pronouncement to the world saying that if an immediate cease fire wasn't called, the entire planet would be destroyed.
Over two and a half billion people, nearly a third of the population, had already been killed and the twenty eight planets that had nuclear capabilities were all threatening to be the first to launch their missiles. The last war had ended when the missiles were launched, a two year winter that killed billions followed, and the peace that came afterward was just long enough for nations to build themselves up again, develop more weapons, and pick up where they left off. Nobody wanted to go through the nuclear winters, radiation sickness, and the years of recovery that would follow a second holocaust, if anybody even survived it, so the war raged on for nearly a decade with only one nuclear blast on a lunar colony which nobody claimed and to which nobody retaliated. But the war was getting more brutal and another mass launch of missiles seemed imminent.
That was when Joshua Lewis came on the scene. He had been elected Secretary General when the previous one had been assassinated by a Christian Fundamentalist Terrorist. The New United Nations, reformed after World War III, was little more than a loose organization of countries and large city states that was lucky if even a third of the members sent delegates to any function and was more likely to erupt into a multinational riot than accomplish anything towards its official goal of world peace and unity. But Joshua Lewis stood up his first day on the job and delivered a short, but profound message to any human being in the solar system who would hear him.
"My fellow human beings," he began, his face and voice being broadcasted to the entire planet, the three remaining lunar colonies, the colony on Mars (which had remained neutral since the beginning of WW III) and the two dozen space stations in the solar system, "we are in a very dangerous place here on Earth. Humanity is once again approaching annihilation and if we do not do something immediately, this war will destroy every human on the planet, and eventually kill every living thing in the known galaxy! Peace is not only desired, it is essential to our survival as a species! Even now, twenty-eight nations on Earth are threatening to launch nuclear weapons, and other WMD's have already been used to catastrophic results, killing billions! We must put aside our differences, whether they are cultural, racial, or spiritual, and finally come together in unity or else our entire existence will come to an end in a fiery ball of radioactive futility! Whatever you may have against your fellow human being, is it worth the irradiation of every life on Earth to prove your point? So, I am pleading with the leaders of the countries of Earth and the armies now raging against each other, cease the warfare and let us come together to seek peace! The floor of the N.U.N. is open and I will not leave this building until every nation is at peace! Please! For the sake of humanity!"
The same plea had been made countless times by nearly every other Secretary General and millions of peace activists, but there was something different about the man delivering this speech. No one could quite put their finger on it, but for some reason Joshua Lewis seemed to connect with every race, every culture, and every religion. The fighting stopped that very hour and a day later, thousands of the world's political and religious leaders were gathered and finally discussing peace. With Lewis's leadership and radical new philosophy, it was achieved.
The N.U.N. worked for nearly a year, during which there were few instances of organized, government-condoned violence, and came to a consensus on everything from a global economy to a religion that would take the best parts of every faith and create a new one that would satisfy the majority of humanity. That last point was the most important to Joshua Lewis. He believed that World War Three and the follow-up World War Four were begun by religious differences and fanatical fundamentalists who had taken over the major faiths. America's War on Terror, which raged for decades under different presidents and different names, was perceived by many as a war on Islam. With Christian's killing Muslims, Muslims killing Christians, everybody else starting to kill Jews, and even the peace loving Buddhists and Hindus getting involved, Lewis believed that organized religion in nearly every form was dangerous and corrupt. If mankind could only come together and agree on spirituality, then ninety percent of wars would cease. Of course he also came up with solutions to the economic and energy problems, but his biggest accomplishment was the unification of all faiths into what he called The Church.
When The Church was endorsed by most religious leaders, including the Pope, the Dalai Lama, the leader of the Southern Baptist Convention, and the Mormon leadership, to name a few, all other faiths were declared outdated and dangerous. The Church leaders proclaimed to their respective followers that the old ways were dying out and the new order was the true path. They anathemized anyone who held to the old ways. While most of the so-called new agers and many of the Eastern religions joined in whole heartedly, there were hardliners from the monotheistic faiths. Christians, Muslims, and Jews alike all declared that their God said that He was the only God and that lumping Yahweh and Allah in with Buddha and Brahma would be blasphemous.
These hardliners were excommunicated and discouraged, but tolerated for the first few years. Lewis explained that it would take a while for the new religion to win everybody over. But when Muslim, Christian, and Jewish terrorists began to attack any organization that endorsed The Church, one Christian even making an attempt on Lewis's life, any faith not adhering to The Church was outlawed. A citizen didn't have to become a member of The Church, but they couldn't follow any other religion either. Leaders of the three main monotheistic religions denounced both the terrorists and The Church, but most believed that they were only attacking the terrorists for political reasons and secretly endorsed them. Soon, prisons were filled with Christians, Muslims, and Jews who had refused to join Lewis's Church.
In the same year that the term Enlightened Society began to gain popularity, a space exploration mission discovered a stable wormhole a few hundred thousand kilometers past Pluto. It was large enough for ships to travel through and it opened up about three days journey from an inhabited planet that was nicknamed Planet X. The name stuck, especially when it was discovered that the environment was quite harsh and barely livable. Nobody wanted to settle there. There were plants and many animals, but the planet was basically three continents of desert. Lewis had a brilliant idea that both dealt with the ever growing prison population and the seemingly useless planet. Criminals deemed too deviant or dangerous to return to human society would be sent there and left to their own devices. X became a giant penal colony, and a large portion of its population were religious offenders.
Johnny Cramblit knew this history. Forty years after the end of the war that truly ended all wars the Enlightened Society that Earth had become was a thriving global community that was unified, peaceful, and happy. He wanted to help keep it that way. He joined the police academy and spent six months training at the Martian colony, and returned home to his family proudly wearing the black and green uniform of United Earth Police Force. He had impressed his superiors and had been granted the assignment he desired for his on the job training. He would be a guard on a prison transport ship taking prisoners to Planet X. He would serve there for a year and then be assigned a more permanent post.
But he would first spend two weeks at home with his family. The leave was granted to all those who would be sent off planet for their first assignment, and he was looking forward to spending time with his family, especially his older brother Joshua, named after Joshua Lewis. He had always looked up to his brother and had wanted to be just like him when he became a man. Joshua had decided to become a doctor and had left for school when Johnny was ten years old. He had come home rarely, but had just moved back to Capitol City (formerly New York City) a month before eighteen year old Johnny had left for the academy. He had barely gotten to catch up with him and was planning on spending most of his leave doing just that.
Little did Johnny know when he walked through the door to be greeted by his older brother that the man he was embracing would be the first man he would arrest.
TO BE CONTINUED...

author's note

I told you I would get back to the stories.
This story is actually a prequel to a novel I am working on called The Fanatic. Johnny Cramblit is an important character in that book. A little note about the content: the story is written from the point of view of a man who has bought into the ideals presented by the so-called Enlightened Society. His views of Christianity and religion in general have been molded by that education and "are not necessarily the views of this author". The story will probably have two or three more parts so that the history of this future world (which has existed only in my jumbled mind for three years) can be further explored and explained.
This isn't an end times story exactly. Joshua Lewis is not the anti-christ, nor does he represent him. Personally, I believe that if you look through history, you will see what I like to refer to as sort of dress rehearsals for the end times where Satan is working out his kinks and figuring out exactly how he will end up taking over the world. This is not scriptural and I would never teach it as doctrine, it is simply an opinion. Maybe men like Julius Caesar, and more recently Adolf Hitler, are just practice runs for what the real antichrist will look like. According to this theory, which again is just a wild imagining of an aspiring writer, I have created Joshua Lewis, who according to the time line I have worked out in my mind, may be the last practice run before the real thing. Yeah, I know that in my story the world has been united and Christianity outlawed, but neither of those things is a new concept. A united earth has been the dream of countless world leaders, though most of these sought to bring it about by conquering the whole planet, and Christianity has been against the law in parts of the world since its beginning 2000 years ago (before then, actually- read John chapter 9).
I hope you enjoy this story. If you like it, recommend this site to a friend or two!
God Bless,
ABR

Why I probably won't continue the argument:

While it isn't really an argument, the discussion between Wanderer and myself can easily become one of two things: an interesting ongoing debate about the nature of "god", the universe, and life in general, or a mean spirited fight that can alienate anyone who reads it from either point of view. Not that I would get mean spirited, and I am in no way implying that Wanderer would either. I know the man, and while I do not agree with his views on what many would call religion, I do respect him and know that he respects me. The mean spiritedness could come from third party commenters who may want to join in. Sadly, I believe that most of those people looking to pick a fight or be insulting to the other side would be those who agree with me. Christians, for all our love and peace and goodwill towards men, tend to be very combative, spiteful, and downright rude more often than not.
But that isn't exactly why I want to stop this potential storm before it starts. You see, the debate has been raging for years between Christians and (for lack of a better term) non-Christians, and as intelligent as Wanderer is, and as intelligent as I would sometimes like to believe I am, there probably isn't anything new that the two of us can add to it. All that will happen, whether this becomes a long debate or a bitter fight, is we will continue for days, weeks, months, maybe even years in this point, counterpoint, until eventually, we have exhausted all that our finite little human minds can fathom about God and neither of us will be any closer to changing our minds. I am a Christian and will always be a Christian because I am one hundred percent sure that I have chosen the true path the God and nothing will shake that. And though I do not agree with Wanderer, he is also sure that I haven't. Most likely, there is nothing that I can say to convince him that Jesus is the one and only way to Heaven. He knows the scriptures very well (if you doubt it, try a debate of your own with him...) and has chosen a different path. I have often said that there is nothing that anybody can say that can convince anyone of the existence of God or the exclusivity of the Bible's claims. Debates rarely win souls.
Yes, I have heard the stories of those who set out to disprove Christianity's claims and in the end became devout Christians simply on the basis of the facts, and the life of Jesus is a historic fact, as is his resurrection, according to many historians, both Christian and secular (though some of the secular ones try to explain it away). But such occurrences are rare. I couldn't say anything to convince an atheist of the truth of Jesus Christ and his claims, but I could do plenty. Jesus told his disciples that men would know that they were his followers by their love, not by their ability to win debates or their logical reasons for their belief.
Debates have their place. Many Christians find that they learn more from debating their faith with an unbeliever than they do in just regular Bible study or hearing a sermon. When confronted with a hard question (like Wanderer's question that inspired my last post) we search for answers that we didn't even know we needed. But "The Path to Everywhere" failed to convert Wanderer to Christianity, as I knew it would. Am I convinced? Yes. And I learned more about my faith from writing that little essay than I did in Church last week.
But if Wanderer and I were to devote even a small portion of our time and efforts trying to convince each other, it would do no good for either of us and all that anyone who happened to find their way in the middle of our discussion would find is an argument in the name of God, which I believe is a misuse of his name. I recently had to tell a friend of mine who follows what I consider to be a cultic version of Christianity that I would no longer publicly discuss religion with him. While neither of us believes that the other is actually saved and our sole and loving intent was to bring the other to repentance, all that anybody who didn't understand what we were doing would see is two Christians fighting about God, and that would turn off many unbelievers.
So the debate ends, at least here on Dawn. While I will gladly answer any comments and will probably leave a few more on Wanderer's site, and I won't commit myself to never again posting something like "path", I will not use this blog as a place to argue about religion.
This blog is set up for me to showcase my writing, to advance the gospel of Jesus Christ through fiction, and to present Christian principles and issues in a new, hopefully entertaining, format. Another reason I do not want to spend hours debating this is that I do not have the time. I have written a novel (426 pages by hand!) and am currently typing it up so I can submit it to a publisher. Every time I sit down to write a five page essay on doctrine that's five pages of my book that I haven't typed. BTW, if and when I finally sell my book, the title "Dawn is Coming" will make more sense.
God Bless everybody,
Arthur B Roberts.
And please go and see the Narnia movie! As a fan of Christian fantasy fiction, I hope it does well! I only hope that the producers do Lewis's classic justice.