Romans 8:1-2.
There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death.
Nash was nervous when Bishop William Graber opened the door to let him inside, despite the fact that the bishop looked like an Englischer’s idea of Santa Claus, with his long, gray beard, round face with red cheeks, and large, blue eyes.
Mrs. Graber hurried over to welcome Nash. “Hiya, Nash. You look hungry as always. I’ve made some special sandwiches for you, cucumber and peanut butter, raw liver and nettle, and bacon with chocolate cream. I must get back to my baking. Don’t worry; I won’t be able to overhear a word you say, so you can speak in complete confidence.”
The bishop appeared to be amused. “My fraa tells me you enjoy her cooking.”
“Yes I do,” Nash said, truthfully. I wouldn’t pay for it, but it’s free, he thought.
“Perhaps we should take the sandwiches out to the porch.”
Nash was relieved that the bishop said that. No matter what Mrs. Graber had said, he was sure she would be able to hear from the kitchen, and he didn’t want what he had to say spread all over town.
Light rain was starting to fall. Nash watched it for a moment, and then was glad he had a car and wouldn’t be driving home in the rain in a buggy. Not for long; I’ll have to get rid of the car, he told himself.
“How are your parents doing?” the bishop asked, once they had settled into stiff, old wooden chairs with a round, wooden table between them.
“Good, thank you.”
Nash was quite nervous about speaking to the bishop. He didn’t know how truthful he should be.
“Let us pray first, and then you can tell me why you have come to see me today. We can eat as we talk,” the bishop said.
They both bowed their heads for a silent prayer. For some inexplicable reason, Nash’s right eye started to twitch, so he rubbed it hard. Then an uncontrollable urge to laugh came over him, and he had to fight it. I suppose it’s ‘cause I’m so nervous, he thought.
“Now, Nash, have a sandwich and tell me why you came to see me today.”
Nash stuffed two of the cucumber and peanut butter sandwiches into his mouth at once, noting that the bishop didn’t move to take any. When he finished the sandwiches, he spoke. “I want to come back to the community.” Nash expected the bishop to gasp or to act surprised, but he kept a perfectly straight face. I suppose the bishop hears lots of strange things all the time, he thought, especially after people come back from rumspringa.
At that point Mrs. Graber reappeared. “Oh, you’re out here,” she said, her face falling with disappointment. “I wondered why the place had suddenly gone quiet. I brought you both an onion and honey tea. Good for colds.” Mrs. Graber deposited two steaming mugs and walked away slowly, looking back over her shoulder.
“I see.” The bishop smiled at Nash. “I’m glad to hear you want to come back to the community; that’s gut to hear. So you have enjoyed a long rumspringa?”
“Yes, a long one.” Nash suddenly felt tongue tied, and took a sip of the onion and honey tea, which didn’t taste anywhere near as bad as it sounded.
“And you want to return to the community and be baptized?” The bishop was smiling encouragingly.
Nash nodded. “Err, yes.” That’s what I already said, Nash thought.
“That is the way of it these days; the younger generation seems to be taking a longer time on rumspringa and joining the community later than we did back in my day.” The bishop chuckled to himself.
Nash was slowly being put at ease. The bishop was not stern or forbidding, and seemed cheerful enough and not judgmental at all. He wasn’t at all what Nash had expected.
“Are you ready to receive the instruction when instruction starts in the coming weeks?” When Nash nodded, the bishop said, “Gut, gut. Well, why don’t you tell me about yourself?”
Nash supposed that the bishop was fishing for information, so he figured he might as well tell him everything. The bishop would find out sooner or later, and there was no point delaying the inevitable.
“I have a car. It’s old, but I’ll sell it of course.” He pointed to the car.
The bishop nodded with a look of approval on his face. “You obviously can drive a buggy, though. You haven’t been away from your community that long. You do like horses, don’t you?”
“Oh yes,” said Nash hurriedly. “I spent all my money on them.” Seeing the bishop frowning in confusion, Nash explained. “I mean racehorses, gambling, that sort of thing. I gambled a lot on the horses and I owe money to book makers. I suppose I can pay them back with the money I get for selling the car though.” And when I have enough money, I’ll buy a fast, black harness horse, bigger and faster than Jessie’s black horse, Nash thought gleefully, imagining how dashing he would look speeding down the dirt roads.
“Go on.”
“What?” Nash came back to reality. “Oh, and I have tattoos and piercings. I won’t put the piercings back in.” Nash drew a breath and then continued. “I’ve been cruel and mean to people. I made my mother cry. I was horrible to Sarah Beachy and I told her she was a Miller. I’m kind to animals, though.”
Nash thought the bishop’s mouth twitched slightly in amusement, but he couldn’t be sure.
“Is there more?” asked the bishop.
Nash looked at the bishop carefully. He thought the bishop would have been impressed by his catalog of misdeeds, but the bishop seemed to think it was all a bit tame. Nash didn’t know whether to be relieved or offended. “You don’t think that’s bad enough?” he asked.
“It’s not what I think that matters,” the bishop said. “It’s what Gott thinks that matters. And what do you think, Nash? Do you think you have gone astray?”
“Why, yes, quite badly, I thought,” Nash said. “Can I still get baptized?”
The bishop smiled, and then said, “All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.”
Nash stared at the bishop. “So you mean we’ve all gone astray?”
“There is none righteous, no not one,” the bishop quoted.
Nash nodded. “I see.” He wondered if the bishop would quote Scripture in answer to all his questions. The bishop from his community never quoted Scripture, and in fact rebuked anyone who did, calling them Scripture Smart.
“The thing is,” the bishop said, “when someone is baptized and becomes a member of the community, he puts his old life behind him. You submit to Gott, you submit to the leaders, and you submit to the community. There is no going back. Can you do that, Nash?”
“Yes,” Nash said confidently. “I’ve thought it all through. I don’t think I can have a personality change overnight though, but I’ll try my best.”
The bishop leaned forward in his chair. “So, Nash, what prompted this change of heart?”
Nash shrugged. “I suppose you could say I’ve seen the error of my ways.” He chuckled at his cliché.
The bishop did not look amused. “Would this have anything to do with a young lady from the community?”
Nash was horrified. “How did you know? Who told you?”
The bishop smiled. “No one told me, but often young menner wish to return to the community because they want to marry a maidel from the community.”
Nash nodded. “Oh, I see.”
“So I hope that is not your only reason for returning to the community?”
“Oh no. I don’t even think she likes me. She’s a bit strange.” Nash bit his lip, wondering if he had gone too far by criticizing someone to the bishop. “She’s very nice and all, but I just can’t figure her out.”
The bishop suppressed a chuckle. “So the young lady has nothing to do with your wanting to return to the community.”
Nash thought about it before answering. “She did make me have a long, hard look at myself, if that’s what you mean, and I think that helped me want to return, but she’s not the reason I want to come back. I want to come back for myself.”
The bishop smiled. “Gut, Nash. I appreciate your honesty.” He then held out the plate of raw liver and nettle sandwiches to Nash.
Nash looked at him through narrowed eyes, wondering why the bishop wanted to punish him. He politely declined. Those sandwiches he was not going to eat, free or not.