The God Box (7 page)

I replied, "but he also said, 'Go, and sin no more.' You think we should just let people do whatever they want and stand by doing nothing?""No." Manuel led me to his bedroom. "If somebody is obviously hurting someone, of course you should stop them.68But if I choose to love another guy, who am I hurting?""When you sin," I recited automatically, and dropped down onto his carpet, "you hurt God, others, and yourself."Manuel shook his head and sat down beside me. "How is love between two people a sin? Love isn't about gender; it's about two souls uniting.

But okay, let's just suppose it is a sin. Then isn't that between God and the people involved? Who are you to judge? Isn't that the whole point in John's story of the woman taken in adultery? Time and again, Jesus' message was, 'How can you say, "Let me take the speck out of your eye," when there is the log in your own?'"I blew on my brownie to cool it and wondered, Why am I trying to argue with a sinner who obviously has no desire to repent? And yet I found it hard to pull away."You know the most amazing thing about Jesus?" Manuel exclaimed. "It's not that he performed miracles. It's that he was who he was, no matter what. He raged at religious leaders, questioned prophets, and challenged teachers to stop being dishonest hypocrites, knowing he'd get slammed for it. Jesus hung out with outcasts and sinners because they weren't pretending to be anything other than who they were. He had the courage to be himself, every time he encountered anyone--whether it was a leper or a temple leader, a fisherman or a rich young ruler. He was true to who he was--always and everywhere--and that's what he calls us to do. To follow Jesus means that we've got to be real."This gospel according to Manuel was unlike any I'd ever heard. Pastor Jose and my Christian friends often spoke about Jesus being real to us, but I'd never heard them talk about Jesus calling us to be real. But then again, Manuel was nothing like any other Christian I had ever met."Don't you see?" Manuel's voice filled with passion. "Jesus69didn't only command us to love God, one another, and ourselves. He showed us how: by being himself, by being real, whether he was accepting the cheers of the palm-waving crowd or later hanging on the cross, questioning God and forgiving those who jeered him. His message stayed the same: Be true to who you are, knowing the cost. How else can you worship the Creator of all being, the great 'I am,' except by being the person that God created you to be? Have the guts to be real!"I listened quietly, feeling a little shell-shocked."Are you real?" Manuel asked, peering at me with his soul-searching look. "Who are you, really?"I stared at him, no longer knowing. Who was I? Who did God create me to be? Was I truly a born-again Christian straight boy being tempted by the sin of homosexuality? Or was I trying to be somebody I wasn't because I couldn't accept who I really was?Manuel gazed at me patiently, waiting for my response, as my head began to throb."I need to go," I said quietly. Then I stood up with my brownie and gathered my things.When I got home, I decided to go for a long, long run, hoping the exercise would clear my mind.70

NO MATTER HOW MUCH MANUE LCONFUSED ME WITH HIS RADICAL IDEAS, I

FOUND MYSELF UNABLE TO STAY AWAY. ONE DAY I KICKED HIM OUT OF MY

ROOM, TELLING HIM, "YOU NEED TO GO NOW.""Okay." He grinned. "Try not to miss me too much."Yeah, right, I thought, snapping the band against my wrist. And yet the next evening I was calling him to ask, "You want to come hang out?"I wasn't sure who was crazier, him or me.

During prayers one night I'd ask forgiveness for hanging out with Manuel, but the next day I'd thank Jesus for bringing him into my life. I couldn't stop thinking about Manuel, and every time I stormed away from him, swearing never to return, five minutes later I wanted to come running back.On top of everything, Manuel had the annoying habit of sometimes referring to God as

"she.""I wish you'd stop that," I told him over pretzels at my house. "The Bible says God created man in his image, not her image.""But," Manuel argued, "doesn't St. Paul say in Galatians that in Christ 'there is neither male nor female'? Why should we portray71God as some old bearded guy, or even a man at all? Since we don't have a pronoun for a Supreme Being so infinite that it's called the 'I am,' why not give equal time to calling God 'she'?"I didn't know what to answer. Was Manuel nuts or a genius? He made my brain feel like a pretzel, all twisted up inside."You want to know what I really think?" Manuel continued."No," I lied, knowing he'd tell me anyway.Which he did: "I think we've created God in our image, instead of the other way around. It's like we've built this little box and tried to cram the infinity of God into it, too afraid that if we let him out, she might challenge us too much. Then we'd have to crucify and kill him." Manuel scratched his forehead beneath his bangs as if recalling something. "Hey, wait a minute. That story sounds familiar. I think I read about that actually happening once, about two thousand years ago."I shook my head, both irritated and intrigued. Even when we argued, it felt as though Manuel was reaching parts of my mind and heart that had never been touched before.The afternoons I didn't spend with him, I continued to spend with Angie, going to choir practice together, hanging out, or taking some wounded creature to the vet. Sometimes she asked casually about my time with Manuel, like she'd ask about time I spent with any other guy friend."Manuel's a nut," I'd tell her, and leave it at that, feeling too mixed-up to discuss it further."Well..." She gave a little smile and laughed. "I'm glad you're over your bias against him."On Saturday nights she and I continued going to dinner and the movies, and afterward parked outside her house. In the car I'd lay my arm across her shoulder and feel her warmth. A different boy might have tried to feel something else, too. I felt proud that I72didn't, and yet it also continued to worry me.One afternoon with Angie something happened which I doubt I'll ever forget: She and I were eating PBJ sandwiches and watching a movie in her family room, when something slammed into the plate-glass window.

Bam! Loud, like a softball. "What was that}" Angie and I looked at each other.Suddenly her eyes widened in fear. "Oh, my God!" She bolted to the window, slid it open, and quickly knelt on the outside landing.I leaned over her shoulder and saw a tiny bird--a sparrow or something--

motionless, tumbled over. "Is it still alive?"Angie scooped it into her palm, gently folding its wings, and pressed its tiny breast to her ear. Then she did something I never imagined possible: She cupped her lips over its teeny beak, breathed and paused, breathed and paused...I stared in wonder. Could she actually bring the little creature back to life?Its chest began moving. It shook its head, blinked its eyes open, and gazed at Angie.She set it down on the ground. It hopped a few steps, turned to look back up at her, and then fluttered away."Thank you, Jesus," Angie said, as the sparrow circled and flew to a birdhouse. Then she took my hand, and we returned to watching the DVD--or tried to. I felt too in awe of what she had done. My heart swelled with love for her, more than ever.When I got home that night, I prayed again: "Please, God. Please make me feel the only thing missing in my love for Angie." But when I climbed into bed and closed my eyes, it was Manuel's face I saw leaning over me, and his wavy hair.73

DURING LUNCHTIME AT SCHOOL I CONTINUED TO SIT WITH ANGIE AND DAKOTA,

BUT ELIZABETH NEVER REJOINED OUR GROUP. WHEN I SAID HI TO HER IN THE

HALL, SHE ARRANGED HER MOUTH CAREFULLY INTO A SMILE, BUT HER "Hi"

SEEMED FORCED AND COLD.I wanted to talk to her about coming back to our group, but what if she confronted me about where I stood on homosexuality and Manuel? I decided, Better just leave it.In the cafeteria Manuel now sat with a hodgepodge group he'd brought together one at a time--the kids that most people in school avoided. First, there was Rufus Santana, a starry-eyed stoner who reeked of marijuana and always wore a goofy grin. He was nice enough, but severely spacey.Across from him sat Gerald Grissom, a quirky, self-proclaimed atheist Goth boy who'd worn a black trench coat every day during freshman year till he got nicknamed Columbine, provoking Mr. Arbuthnot (our principal) to institute a "no coats during school hours" policy. But even without the coat Gerald still seemed weird.Next to him sat Maggie McGhee, whose name was scrawled on boys' restroom stalls for supposedly "putting out." Gossip was74she'd already had one abortion, marking her with the equivalent of a scarlet letter--at least during school hours.Beside her sat Janice Salazar, who had definitely gotten pregnant but opted to have the baby. And yet, in spite of her decision, people now avoided her, too, as if pregnancy might be contagious. Actually, I didn't hang out with her either.And last was Stephen Marten, the boy from middle school whom other boys had beaten up and called "queer"--while I turned away.I never would have expected a group of such different personalities to sit together, but I guess it made sense: They were all outsiders, just like Manuel.Some afternoons he would invite me to hang out with him and one of them, but I always made up some excuse. He must have gotten the message, because eventually he stopped asking. Nevertheless, he still wanted to hang out with my friends.

At his house one evening he asked, "When is your group having its next Bible study?""Um ..." I knew our Bible Club was scheduled for that Wednesday, but I also recalled what a disaster our last meeting had been. So I looked away and lied: "Um, I'm not sure when it is." Afterward, I prayed for God's forgiveness.My fib did no good anyway. Angie or Dakota must have told Manuel about the meeting, because when I arrived at Bible Club, he was already there with them.

My stomach slid down to my shoes.Across the circle of chairs sat Elizabeth and Cliff, darting glances at Manuel while murmuring in low voices with two other girls.Angie motioned to an empty seat she'd saved for me.Cliff had volunteered to lead that day's discussion, about the Sermon on the Mount, another of my Scripture favorites. He asked Elizabeth to start us off in prayer, but when she had finished, he75unexpectedly announced, "Instead of the Sermon on the Mount, I think we should discuss Genesis Nineteen."I blinked at him in surprise. We had never changed the scheduled passage at the last minute. People hastily flipped through their Bibles to recall what Genesis 19 was about. But I already knew. It told the story of Sodom and Gomorrah.Angie looked worriedly at Manuel and objected, "We didn't prepare for that.""Okay, let's take a vote," Cliff replied, as if he had anticipated the objection. "Majority rules. All those opposed to changing today's reading, raise their hands."Angie, Dakota, Aaron Esposito, and I lifted our hands. I'd assumed Manuel would too, but he didn't."You can vote too," I whispered to him."Thanks. I will." But he still didn't raise his hand."Those in favor of changing the reading?"

Cliff asked, raising his arm alongside Elizabeth and the two other girls. That made it a tie, four against four, except... Manuel also raised his hand.Everyone in the circle stared at him. Even Cliff eyed him suspiciously."It's one of my favorites." Manuel smiled. Was he being sarcastic?"All right then." Cliff cleared his throat. "Genesis Nineteen." He began reading aloud, '"The two angels came to Sodom in the evening--'""Excuse me," Manuel interrupted. "But the story really starts in chapter eighteen."Cliff peered at him warily, as if suspecting a trap. "We voted to read chapter nineteen""All right." Manuel shrugged. "But the story starts in chapter eighteen."Cliff resumed reading about how Lot, a nephew of Abraham,76rose to meet the two male angels at the city gate and invited them to spend the night at his house: They said, "No; we will spend the night in the street." But he urged them strongly; so they turned aside to him and entered his house; and he made them a feast, and baked unleavened bread, and they ate.'"I tugged nervously at my wristband, knowing we were about to get to the bad part.'"But before they lay down, the men of the city, the men of Sodom, both young and old, all the people to the last man, surrounded the house; and they called to Lot, "Where are the men who came to you tonight? Bring them out to us, that we may know them.'""From Sunday school I knew that to "know" someone was often the Biblical way of saying to have sex. But in this passage it confused me. Did it mean that every single male in the city--"both young and old ... to the last man"--was homosexual? That seemed kind of unlikely. But if they weren't, then why would they all have mobbed the house demanding to "know" the visiting strangers?My palms started to sweat as Cliff pressed on with his reading:

'"Lot went out of the door to the men, shut the door after him, and said, "I beg you, my brothers, do not act so wickedly. Behold, I have two daughters who have not known man; let me bring them out to you, and do to them as you please; only do nothing to these men, for they have come under the shelter of my roof.'"""Can we stop a moment?" Dakota cut in. "If Lot, Abraham's nephew, is supposed to be a righteous, good, God-loving guy, how can he offer his two virgin daughters to be raped?""I agree," Angie spoke up. "What kind of dad is that? Isn't he just as bad as the rest of the Sodomites?"Cliff thought for a moment and replied, "No. He knew the men outside were gay, so they wouldn't want his daughters."77"Wait a minute." Dakota shook her head. "Lot offered his daughters knowing they'd be refused? Then why'd he offer them? That doesn't make any sense."I sat up in my seat, agreeing with the girls, but Cliff ignored their arguments and resumed reading aloud. In the following verses, the men of Sodom indeed refused Lot's offer of his daughters, telling him, '"Now we will deal worse with you than with them.' Then they pressed hard against the man Lot, and drew near to break the door. But the men put forth their hands and brought Lot into the house to them, and shut the door. And they struck with blindness the men who were at the door of the house, both small and great, so that they wearied themselves groping for the door."As Cliff continued reading out loud, I turned the page, leaving a sweaty thumbprint.'"Then the men said to Lot, "Have you any one else here? Sons-in-law, sons, daughters, or any one you have in the city, bring them out of the place; for we are about to destroy this place, because the outcry against its people has become great before the LORD, and the LORD has sent us to destroy it." So Lot went out and said to his sons-in-law, who were to marry his daughters, "Up, get out of this place; for the LORD is about to destroy the city." But he seemed to his sons-in-law to be jesting.'""Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Dakota interrupted again. "Lot went out to the mob to get his sons-in-law, who were to marry his daughters? So, were his sons-in-law also gay?"Cliff scowled at her, thinking again. "Yeah. Apparently. That's why they get destroyed with the rest.""What I don't get," Angie cut in, "is where were the women of the city during all this? Or were they supposedly also gay?""I'd like to say something," Manuel spoke up.