FRANK’S EVANGELICAL YOUTH GROUP was having a meeting at his church on Sunday night, and Kevin and I were going to back him up. It was two weeks since the fake-crystal meth incident, and Ashley and Marc were off to the movies. Date night trumped doing God’s work.
We were there to get the group’s endorsement for the Save Mount Tom campaign, collect more signatures for our petition, and see if we could use the church as our staging area and starting point for the Children’s Crusade.
“Do I have to behave myself in church?” Kevin asked. It was Sunday morning and I had been talking on the phone with him for two hours. We had gone miniature golfing the night before and I had walloped him. I had three holes-in-one. It was awesome.
“You better behave yourself everywhere,” I told him.
“That’s no fun,” he said. “If I hold your hand while we’re there, will they damn us to the raging fires of hell, start casting stones at our privates, and drive us out like rats from of a flooded mine onto the street?”
“They might,” I said. “But I kind of doubt it. Frank has a girlfriend and I’ve seen him holding hands at school with her.”
“But while we’re there I should probably keep my tongue in my own mouth,” Kevin said making slurping sounds over the phone.
“Probably a good idea,” I said. “But only while we’re actually in the church itself. Before and after don’t hold back.”
“Excellent. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me too.”
“You know, Cyndie,” Kevin said. “We sure go on the weirdest dates.”
“They’re not dates, Kevin! They’re thingamabobs! Remember?”
“Oh yeah, my bad. Just imagine what it’s going to be like once we really start going out!”
It wasn’t hard for me to imagine at all.
•
On Sunday night the church meeting room was full with kids from middle through high school. Not just from our town but others as well. Kevin had picked me up early, and after a glorious session of oh-so-fun tongues in mouths in the church parking lot we had gone inside to meet Frank and company. There were a few awkward moments as I kept trying to strategically position my hair, with no success. There was just no way to conceal the hickey on my neck courtesy of Kevin, aka The Human Vacuum Cleaner.
Frank was a youth pastor and the designated leader of the evening Bible study group. He began the meeting with prayers and testimonials to Christ and a song about how Jesus loved us. Then we got down to business.
I had not been raised as a churchgoer. After all, attending service on Sundays got in the way of my family observing way more important things, i.e., the never-ending Civil War. As previously noted, the only church we were involved in was the Church of the Holy Reenactment, which held weekend services on Civil War battlefields.
To be honest, I hadn’t ever really thought all that much about God. I could see how the idea of Him and heaven could be comforting and reassuring, but it seemed to me that so much of the hatred and war and trouble and strife in the world was over whose religion was right. Whose God was the true one. Whose faith the chosen one. If there was a God, would He really have anything to do with all of that baloney? I didn’t think so. If God was love, then killing in the name of Jesus or Jehovah or Mohammad, or whomever it was you worshipped, made about as much sense as blowing up Mount Tom.
It was clear, however, that these kids were true believers and that their support of our Save Mount Tom Campaign could make a huge difference.
So there we were, sitting in church, surrounded by evangelicals and making our pleas for them to be the saviors. The saviors of Mount Tom.
Frank and Kevin and I spoke about the evils of mountaintop removal, the plans we had made, and the work we were doing. The group was totally into it. They asked good questions. We gave good answers. After an hour we were getting to the end of the meeting.
“Did you watch TV this afternoon?” I asked the group. “The discovery they made in Egypt on Mount Sinai? It’s all over the news.”
“What did they find?” one of the more gullible, younger kids asked.
“There were actually eleven commandments. Not ten,” I said.
“Really?” the kid asked.
“Really. Evidently Moses tripped on his way down the mountain and broke the third stone tablet that the eleventh one was on. They just found it yesterday. Under some Pizza Hut or something.”
“No!” the same kid said, his eyes as big as pizzas.
“Yes. And do you know what the Eleventh Commandment is?”
“What?”
“‘Thou shalt not blow the tops off of mountains.’ There it is. Clear as day. Written with the finger of God!”
“Wow!” the little kid said. “Awesome.”
“She’s joking!” Frank said, looking at me askance. Apparently this line of humor was perhaps a little over-the-top for him.
“He’s right,” I said. “I wish I weren’t, but I am.”
The kid looked disappointed.
“It should have been the tenth,” Kevin added. “I mean, really. Doesn’t that one say something about not coveting your neighbor’s ox or donkey? I wouldn’t even think that would make the top fifty.”
Everybody laughed, including Frank.
“In all seriousness,” I said. “Can you imagine God giving his blessing to blow the mountain sky high? All in the name of the Almighty Dollar? Boom! Take that, Creation!’”
“But shouldn’t we just trust in God, knowing that the Earth is in His good hands?” one of the kids asked.
“Trust in God, but tether your camel,” Frank replied.
“You guys are the biblical scholars,” I said. “You guys are the experts. What’s the Bible say about protecting creation?”
Frank opened his Bible and read aloud. “Isaiah 11:9: They will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain, for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the sea.”
“Exactly,” I said. “It doesn’t get much clearer than that, does it? Read it again, Frank.”
“They will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain.”
“There you have it,” I said. “There’s not a whole lot of room for interpretation is there? God’s pretty much telling it like it is. No ifs, ands, or buts. No tiny fine print at the bottom of the page stating ‘Not applicable to West Virginia,’ or, ‘Exception granted to American Coal Company.’”
“And I don’t see a sign anywhere in front of the church,” Kevin said.
“A sign?” one of the kids asked. “Saying what?”
“‘God was wrong. Support mountaintop removal.’”
Everybody laughed again.
I reached over and gave Kevin’s hand a squeeze. “And Frank, doesn’t the Bible go on and on about how pissed God will be if we screw the whole thing up? I mean, not in those exact words, but you get my point.”
Frank opened his Bible and read again. We hadn’t rehearsed beforehand but we were like a well-oiled machine. I’d talk. He’d quote. We were on a roll. There’s nothing like the Bible to back you up.
“Revelation 11:18,” he read. “‘The nations were angry; and your wrath has come. The time has come for judging the dead, and for rewarding your servants the prophets and your saints and those who reverence your name, both small and great—and for destroying those who destroy the earth.’”
“Oh yeah!” Kevin said, pumping his fist in the air. “Payback time’s a bitch, dude! What goes around comes around. Boom!”
I poked Kevin. “Sorry,” he said.
“As Christians we’re called upon to protect God’s creation,” Frank said, shooting Kevin a friendly scowl. Frank had a wonderful speaking voice, soothing and gentle and convincing as hell. And, to add to the package, he was eye candy, too. Not nearly as hot as Kevin but still pretty sweet. I’d even think of making an occasional appearance in church if he was the one spouting off the word of the Lord.
“We have that opportunity,” Frank continued. “Right here. Right now. To be stewards of creation in our very own backyard. To protect Mount Tom and all of the critters that God has put upon it. Mount Tom is our holy mountain. At this moment, in this place, we can make a difference. We can be the word of the Lord. Let us pray together.”
Everyone bowed their heads and closed their eyes while Frank did his thing and Kevin put his hand on my thigh.