Point of No Return (36 page)

“Where've you been?” Karen asked. “You weren't in Sunday school.”

Lucy held out her white fingers. “Nursery.”

“Something's going on,” Matt said.

“What do you mean?”

Jack leaned forward. “Mr. Whittaker wasn't in Sunday school. Mrs. Winger covered for him.”

Oscar piped in, “When we asked if he was sick, she said no and not to ask any questions because we'd find out in church. Isn't that weird? Mr. Whittaker
never
misses teaching his class.”

“I think it has something to do with the man,” Karen said.

“The one who barged in on the contest last night,” Jack clarified, as if Lucy had already forgotten the incident.

Oscar looked around nervously, then said: “I heard he was a lunatic and they took him away to the asylum.”

“I heard he was once the pastor of
this
church and came back because they fired him,” Jack said.

“Cut it out,” Lucy said. “You guys don't know what you're talking about.”

“But something happened,” Karen affirmed.

Mr. Shelton started playing a hymn on the organ as a signal for all talking to stop. The sanctuary slowly filled up with the regular church attendees and a few people Lucy didn't recognize. During the first hymn, Pastor Henderson walked up to his chair behind the pulpit. Whit followed and sat down in the guest chair next to it.

“See? I told you,” Jack said, gesturing to Whit.

Whit looked tired, as if he'd been sick or up all night. Lucy tried to take in the eyes beneath the wild white hair. They were puffy. And his normal smiling expression seemed undone by a sad droop in his mustache.

The church service proceeded as usual, with hymns, Scripture readings, announcements, and the offering. After the collection plates had been passed, another hymn was sung as a lead-in to the pastor's sermon. The hymn was “Take My Life and Let It Be.” As the last note of the hymn echoed through the church, Pastor Henderson stepped up to the pulpit. He spoke in a tone so serious that Lucy instinctively drew her arms around herself. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for joining us. I'm sure by now most of you have heard about what happened at Whit's End last night. But just in case you haven't, allow me a minute to explain.”

He went on to tell the congregation about the Bible contest at Whit's End, how it had been interrupted by the stranger, what he said before he collapsed, and how he was taken to the hospital where he later died.

Lucy put her hand over her mouth as she gasped along with others in the congregation. She didn't know what she expected to have happened to the stranger, but she never expected for him to die.

The pastor continued, “John Whittaker, who was with the stranger until the end, has asked to talk to the church this morning. After hearing what he wants to say, I believe it's the best thing for all of us. Please give him your full attention. Whit?”

“Thank you, Pastor Henderson,” Whit said when he reached the pulpit. He spoke so softly that Lucy had to strain her ears to hear him. “I'm grateful to those of you who were at Whit's End last night—and to those of you who prayed for Raymond Clark. That was his name. We still don't have all the details about him, but I understand he has a daughter who is being notified.”

Whit clutched the pulpit as if it was the only thing stopping him from falling over. Lucy felt an unfamiliar tightness in her chest.

Surveying the audience, Whit continued, “The appearance of Mr. Clark at Whit's End last night startled us all. It's not very often we have a complete stranger come in, looking like he did and talking the way he talked. But I have to tell you honestly: His words hit me right here—” Whit put his hand over his heart. “And when I think that those were nearly the last words he spoke before he died, they hit me even harder.

“Do you know what he asked us? He wanted to know what it means when we say we're followers of Jesus. What difference does it make to our lives? Ask anyone who heard him. He wasn't harsh or judgmental. He simply asked the question, then pointed out how different following Jesus is from how we normally live our lives. I wish I could ignore Mr. Clark and his words—it'd be easier that way—but I can't. What he said was true. What he asked was something we should all be asking ourselves every day of our lives. What does it mean to follow Jesus? What would change in my life if I truly walked in His steps?”

Whit paused again. The congregation shuffled uncomfortably. Someone coughed. Lucy braced herself—for what, she didn't know. But all her best instincts said that this was serious—
very
serious.

“I have a plan in mind,” Whit said. “Call it a challenge, if you want. But I've been thinking about Mr. Clark's question and how to answer him. What I propose now is something that shouldn't be peculiar to any of us, but will probably sound ridiculous, even impossible. Basically, I'm looking for volunteers to pledge themselves—for just a couple of weeks—to do only what Jesus would do.”

The congregation came alive with buzzing and whispers.

Whit held up his hand. “The idea is for us not to do anything without first asking the question,
What would Jesus do?
And afterward, we ought to act as we believe Jesus Himself would act if He were in our place. I'm pledging myself to that challenge right here and now. I'm asking for others to join me—men and women, boys and girls. Make no mistake. It's a simple challenge, but it won't be easy. But I'm willing to try. If you are, too, meet me at Whit's End this afternoon at 3:00. That's all I have to say.”

Whit stepped away from the pulpit and Pastor Henderson returned to close the service in prayer. After the final hymn, the entire auditorium exploded in conversation.

Lucy wondered if she should take Whit up on his challenge.

What would Jesus do?
she asked herself.

CHAPTER FIVE

“H
E DIDN'T GET VERY
many people to show up,” Jack observed from the booth in the far corner of Whit's End soda shop. He was there with Lucy, Karen, Matt, and Oscar. They had all agreed after church to go to the meeting. Lucy and Karen were serious about taking Whit up on his challenge. Jack, Matt, and Oscar just wanted to see what would happen next.

“I count 16 adults,” Oscar said. “So, counting us that would be—”

“Twenty-one,” Matt finished for him with a bored tone in his voice.

Lucy adjusted her glasses and scanned the room to see who had shown up. Most of them were leaders from the church, including Pastor Henderson and Tom Riley, who was a deacon. The others were parents (including Lucy's and Karen's parents and Oscar's mom).

“They're the ones I figured would come,” Jack said.

Matt nodded. “They
had
to show up—or they'd look like they weren't spiritual.”

“Maybe they thought it was a good idea,” Karen said, annoyed at Jack and Matt's sarcastic attitude. She slumped down on the table and weaved a finger through her chestnut hair. That's what she did when she was bothered about something.

Whit stood up in front of the small gathering. “Thank you for coming,” he said. He looked pale and even more tired than he had just a couple of hours before. Lucy thought he was on the verge of tears. “Let's pray.”

Everyone bowed their heads. From Whit's very first words—“Dear Father”—something about the room seemed to change. Lucy felt it so precisely that she glanced up as if someone had tapped her on the shoulder. She caught eyes with Karen, who was also now looking around with a confused expression on her face. Oscar furrowed his brow while Jack and Matt, eyes still closed, wiggled in their seats. Out of the corner of her eye, Lucy saw the adults in the room also reacting to whatever it was that seemed to be happening because of Whit's prayer. The hair stood up on the back of her neck—but not from fear, from
excitement.
It was as if the room was suddenly charged with electricity.

“The Holy Spirit,” Karen whispered.

Lucy bowed her head and knew He was there. She felt it as surely as she felt the presence of the rest of the kids at her table. And somehow she knew this wasn't just an experiment or a game. Whit's challenge was
real
—and not to be taken lightly. But she knew she
would
take the challenge. She
would
try to follow in the steps of Jesus in what she did over the next couple of weeks. The presence of the Spirit—if that's what it really was—confirmed in her heart that she
had to
.

When Whit finished his prayer, everyone sat silently, their heads still bowed, as if they were hesitant to interrupt whatever they were feeling.

Whit's face was wet with tears. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes. “I hope we understand what we're here to do. Basically, we're here to pledge to ask what Jesus would do with
everything
in our lives. Then we will act on the answer we get, regardless of the consequences. Do we all agree?”

Karen suddenly raised her hand. “Excuse me, Mr. Whittaker. I have a question.”

“Go ahead, Karen.”

She cleared her throat shyly, then said: “Well, I want to do what Jesus would do. But I'm not really sure I
know
what He would do. I don't remember any stories in the Bible about Jesus taking a math class or learning to play volleyball in gym class.”

A few scattered chuckles echoed around the room. Whit smiled. “That's a very good question, Karen. My guess is that all of us will have to consider carefully how Jesus would act in our homes or schools or offices. It's a different world now than the one He lived in, yet His truth is timeless. The only thing we can do is study Jesus in Scripture and rely on the Holy Spirit to guide us. There are no easy rules for how to do it. We just have to read our Bibles, pray, and talk to people who are wiser than we are.”

“But what if someone disagrees and says Jesus wouldn't do what we think He'd do?” Pastor Henderson asked.

Whit shrugged. “That'll probably happen. I don't expect everyone to agree with what we're trying to do or how we do it. There'll be some struggles to get it right. We just have to be completely honest and open with ourselves about our decisions. If someone says we're wrong, then we'll have to prayerfully consider their opinion and test it to see if the Spirit is speaking through them. But, in the long run, I think there'll be consistency in our decision making. If we're in tune with the Holy Spirit, then there shouldn't be any confusion in how we decide. But we have to be committed once we've made our decision. Right?”

The adults nodded their agreement. Then someone else asked another question which led to a long grown-up conversation that didn't interest the kids in the corner booth very much.

Lucy turned to Jack and Matt. “Are you going to do it?”

“Are you?” Matt asked.

Lucy said yes.

“If it's good enough for you, it's good enough for us,” Jack said, then nudged Oscar. “Right?”

“Right,” Oscar said.

“It's not a competition,” said Lucy.

Jack rolled his eyes. “I know,” he said as if stating the obvious.

But Lucy suspected deep inside that he
didn't
know.

“Look, it's not like it's going to be so hard,” Matt said. “I mean, it's not as if we have anything really serious to deal with. For me it'll be trying to figure out what Jesus would do with my next English assignment.”

“I think there's more to it than that,” Karen said. “It's going to affect
everything
in our lives. I'm the president of the student council. What would Jesus do with our student council?”

“Tell them all to resign,” Jack laughed.

Lucy frowned. “Oh boy. I'm the editor of the
Odyssey Owl
. How would Jesus edit a school newspaper?”

Lucy and Karen exchanged uneasy glances.

“We don't have anything to worry about,” Matt said. “Do we?”

Oscar didn't look convinced. He was chewing the inside of his mouth like he did when he was trying to think.

“What's wrong, Oscar?” Jack asked him.

“Well,” Oscar said carefully, “I was just trying to figure out what Jesus would do when Joe Devlin and his gang try to beat me up after school.”

“Turn the other cheek?” Karen asked.

“That's what I
always
do,” Oscar said. “It doesn't help.”

Whit was suddenly standing next to the booth and Lucy realized the meeting had broken up and the adults were leaving. “I don't know if doing what Jesus would do will always
help
things,” Whit said. “At least, not in the ways we expect. It's not like a magic formula to take our problems away or make us successful. Following Jesus is just…well, walking where He leads us. The question is, are we all committed to following Him wherever He goes?”

Whit's gaze fell from one face to another.

“Yes,” Lucy said.

“Uh-huh,” Matt said.

Jack nodded. “Yep.”

“Yes, sir,” Oscar piped in.

“Me, too,” Karen said. Then she sighed with a string of hair curled around her finger. “I hope we know what we're getting ourselves into.”

CHAPTER SIX

T
HE NEXT MORNING
, Lucy slipped into the room that served as the main office for the
Odyssey Owl.
The bell wouldn't ring for school to start for another 15 minutes. She sat down next to a large, rectangular table covered with finished articles, assignment sheets, and clip-art catalogs. The silence of the room filled her with peace. She had determined to start the day the way Jesus often started His: with prayer.
I'm going to need it
, she thought.

She folded her hands and bowed her head, but it didn't feel right. She scooted the chair back, slid off, and knelt with her elbows on the edge of the seat. Her heart pounded a little harder as she whispered, “Dear God…”