FRANCIS, BLAKE PARKER

[BLAKE PARKER FRANCIS]

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BLAKE PARKER FRANCIS, TWENTY, COLUMBIA STUDENT, HETEROSEXUAL. MALE, KEVIN BAKER, NATE.

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when darkness veils my savior’s face, i rest on his unchanging grace. in every high and stormy gale, my anchor holds within the veil. on christ the solid rock i stand, all other ground is sinking sand. all other ground is sinking sand. - ‘solid rock,’ e-pop. rain city hymnal, vol. i.

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WHOLESOME, INTELLECTUAL, COURAGEOUS, PRUDENT, REAL.
CAUTIOUS, WORRISOME, PEOPLE-PLEASING, STUBBORN, INCONSISTENT.
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He paused, sticking the end of the mechanical pencil on his lips, the top row of his teeth lowering somewhat like a guillotine blade. Sitting perpendicular of his lined mattress, he slumped his back against the wall, sinking a little more into his bed, bare feet sticking out the sides. He took the pencil out of his mouth, letting out a breath, slow and depressing. His displacement had suffered enough assault for one day. He did not want to revisit the events of the day, a contemplative habit he had formed somewhere in the midst of his high school days in Seattle. And yet...

It was in the dining hall. Classes were over for the day. Conversation flowed, going from subject to subject. Then, one mention of Plato and the Form of the Good derived into moral righteousness.

‘Well, I mean, I’m not that bad. At least I’m not like, sleeping around or anything,’ was the comment that started it all. A sheep of the flock, listing the sin he didn’t commit, in mixed company, with vicious, subtle tone, asserting his own righteousness over the others. One in particular, an ex-girlfriend with a less-than-pristine past. Eyes shifted, postures straightened. His heart paced. Surprised faces all around. Some turned to anger. And rightfully so. But the statement, so bombastic, so unbecoming, so condemning, was such a shock that no other words came out.

‘But is that what defines righteousness?’ Another voice, steady and bold, pierced the silence. ‘Can we rest on a checklist?’

He was surprised by the defense. And even more surprising, it came from someone he was so sure would understand him. ‘What do you mean, Blake?’ He responded sheepishly.

‘Can you pin down righteousness as abstaining from casual sex? Avoiding stuff we label bad? Is that it? Is that how we can say we’re righteous?’

A hard-hitting question. He winced from the three letter word. ‘No. But you know what I mean, Blake. That kind of stuff is a sin. God doesn’t tolerate that stuff. Sin is unrighteous.’ Tempers began to flare. Distraught by the indirect reference and condemnation, tried to keep herself preoccupied. She checked her cell phone for text messages. She rummaged through her purse. She kept her head down, fingers running across her forehead, bangs hanging down to hide her face.

‘Still, where does that leave righteousness?’ He asked. Instincts to butt in suddenly went away. It was between the two young men, of the same accord. An argument of theology. But it mattered.

‘Obedience to God,’ he spat.

‘Well, of course, that’s perfectly right. But are you so sure we can do that completely? There’s six hundred commandments in the Old Testament. That’s a lot to keep track of. And it’s hard, man. We break one commandment and it’s totally gone. We’re dead in our trespasses. And if that’s the only way we can get it, then what are the chances of actually having it? If God trusts us to be obedient to Him for us to have righteousness, then what about Jesus? What about the incarnation? Why did He have to die? And what’s up with the resurrection? He didn’t just do that to pay for what we did. There’s a point to be made with Jesus. He’s not some pithy debt consolidation so that we can sit in church and be happy. We were morally and spiritually bankrupt before we ever even realized what Jesus did means for us. And I mean all of us. Everyone around this table. And everyone else. We can’t keep all the commandments because sometime, sooner or later, we’ll fail. God did all that in the form of Christ to say that He is the source of righteousness. It’s not us. And he does that because He loves us, and He doesn’t want us to be in that vicious cycle of moral checklists.

‘Parading that you haven’t had sex yet doesn’t make you righteous. That’s not the point. And if it is, then the resurrection is useless. And I’m pretty sure you won’t be okay with me saying that.’ He said no more, throwing his back against the seat of his chair in frustration, done with his rebuking.

She looked up between the two college students. Feeling too awkward to retain her presence, she rose, bidding her goodbye. Silence settled, so did appetites. Watching as she briskly walked out of the hall, he suddenly desired to follow suit, leaving the company which had seen this theological smackdown. Mind racing and mentally rebuking himself for not waiting for a better time to call out his self-righteousness, he turned in his tray, almost running in pursuit of her, to apologize.

‘Grace!’

She turned around, looking rather baffled as to what had just happened. ‘I knew you had a little bit of John Wesley in you,’ she chided him. It was her way.

‘Grace…’ he started. ‘What he said wasn’t cool. I’m sorry he did that to you. Don’t think that all Christians are like that, or that I’m like that, or that’s what Christianity is supposed to be. I’m not trying to convert you, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.’

She tilted her head, a small smile formed on her face, beginning to replace the bewilderment that had settled on it earlier. She was… blessed to hear him say so. ‘Well, thank you for coming to my defense. But I know how he is… I’m fine, but thank you so much. I’m a big girl. I dated him, remember?’

‘I guess you’re right.’
She came close to him, wrapped her arms around his tall frame. ‘What you said… it’s beautiful, you know.’
‘It’s the Truth.’
‘Well, maybe I can’t handle the Truth.’
‘Neither can I.’

She pulled away from him, almost laughing at his comment. ‘Funny… well, little Christ, I really do need to go… but I definitely think you two need to reconcile. You were a little rough with the rebuking.’ With that being said, she walked away, leaving the young man to make the choice.

And here he was, journaling, about to go to bed. He slumped in his bed even further. Enough was enough. The grace extended to him, needed to be extended to his brother. He couldn’t let an argument, even if it were about theology, destroy a relationship. Jumping out of bed, putting on his coat and his shoes, he left the comfort of his room, in active pursuit, and a sustaining hope for reconciliation.

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