Point of No Return

by Paul McCusker

  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

  “HE 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 alway
s 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

  THE 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…”

  She’d only been praying for a minute when Mike Colman, one of the Owl’s reporters, walked in. Embarrassed, Lucy leapt to her feet.

  “What’s wrong?” Mike asked as he tossed his books on the table.

  “Nothing,” Lucy answered. “You startled me.”

  Mike cocked an eyebrow at her, then peered at the base of the table. “What were you doing down there? Did you drop something?”

  “Never mind,” Lucy said. “What are you doing here?”

  Mike looked at her suspiciously. “It’s Monday, right? Assignments for this week’s issue?”

  Lucy blushed. “Oh yeah.” She fumbled for the assignment sheet that she’d worked out last Friday. “Let’s see…”

  “I was thinking I’d like to do something different this week,” Mike said.

  Lucy looked up at him.

  “I want to do a movie review. I saw Sylvester Kostenagger’s latest over the weekend. Blood Runs Deep. It was amazing.”

  “But that’s an adult movie,” Lucy said. “I heard it’s nothing but violence and killing from the beginning to end.”

  Mike put his hands on his hips. “You heard wrong. They stop blowing people away long enough to do a love scene in the middle.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.” Mike smiled at her. His perfect white teeth, dimples, and curly black hair reminded Lucy she once had a crush on him. “All the kids are talking about this movie. We have to review it. Besides, I got to interview Sylvester Kostenagger on the phone.”

  “What?”

  Mike said proudly, “My dad’s lawyer’s brother-in-law is an agent in Sylvester’s talent agency and he set it up for me to interview him. We talked for a whole five minutes. I even recorded it. I could do a review of the movie and print the interview!”

  Lucy was instantly excited for Mike. What a scoop! And it was true that all the kids in the school had been looking forward to this new action thriller. Most of the kids’ parents would take them to see it—or they’d sneak in like Mike probably had. The theater owners didn’t seem to care as long as they got their money. But to have an interview with the actor himself—that’s the kind of thing that could get the Owl mentioned in the Odyssey Times!

  Lucy very nearly said “Okay” but stopped herself just before the word came out. What happened to the pledge she made? “I’m going to have to think about it,” she finally said.

  “Think about it?” Mike was aghast. “What’s to think about?”

  She didn’t dare tell him that she first had to decide what Jesus would do. Would Jesus, if He were editor of the Owl, allow a review to be printed about a movie that blatantly glorified violence?

  Of course He wouldn’t, Lucy knew. She then asked herself how she knew it. And in an instant, her mind worked through her reasons. For one thing, Jesus said to love each other—our neighbors, even our enemies. There was no room for that kind of love in movies where people got shot and buildings were blown up just for the fun of it. Lucy also remembered her parents complaining how violent movies made people less than humans—they were just nameless and faceless characters who died—and Jesus certainly wouldn’t approve of that. There was never a point to those violent movies, except to show more and more violence. They never taught the kinds of things that Jesus taught about: mercy, compassion, self-sacrifice. There were more reasons, but Lucy figured she had enough.

  “No,” she said to Mike. “No review.”

  Mike was clearly disappointed, but rallied. “We’ll just do the interview then.”

  “Huh-uh,” she said and braced herself for the explosion.

  “Are you nuts?” Mike shouted. “I talked to Sylvester on the phone! He answered my questions! He even said he’d send me an autographed picture!”

  “No, Mike.”

  “Why not?” he demanded.

  “Because movies like Blood Runs Dark—”

  “Deep,” he corrected her. “Blood Runs Deep.”

  “Movies like that aren’t healthy for kids like us. They’re probably not even healthy for adults either. And actors like Sylvester what’s-his name don’t even care what kind of effect his movies have on us. He’s just out to make money.”

  “So what?”

  “So, there’s nothing that says I have to promote his movie by printing a review or promote him by printing an interview.”

  Mike stared at her with his mouth hanging down. He looked like he might rush into the hall and call for the school nurse to help poor Lucy who’d finally flipped her wig. “This is a joke, right? You’re pulling my leg.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Then you’ve gone out of your mind!” he cried out. “How could you not print a review, especially when I have an interview with the country’s biggest selling star to go with it!? What kind of editor are you, anyway?”

  Lucy weighed her options carefully. There was a time when Mike and his family went to her church. They stopped going a couple of years ago and, for all she knew, had started going somewhere else. She didn’t know. But one thing was certain: She had to tell him the real reason she couldn’t print his review and interview.

  “Close the door,” she said softly.

  He looked at her puzzled, then obeyed.

  Once the door was closed and he returned to face her, she explained, “Mike, the truth is, I can’t print your stuff because…well, it isn’t something that Jesus would do.”

  He stared at her for a moment, then blinked a couple of times as if he hadn’t heard right. “Jesus? You mean, like, Jesus in the Bible?”

  Lucy nodded. “I made a pledge yesterday to do everything the way I think Jesus would do things. That includes how to edit the Owl. I don’t think Jesus would print your review or interview. Do you?”

  “No, He probably wouldn’t.” Then Mike shook his head quickly. “But…but this is crazy. You can’t edit a paper like Jesus would. He never even edited a paper, did He? If He did, do you think any of the kids in this school would read it? I wouldn’t.”

  “That’s not the point. I made a pledge—no matter what,” Lucy said.

  “It’s nuts,” Mike said. “You’ll get yourself in big trouble.”

  Lucy shrugged. “It’s a risk I’ll have to take.”

  At lunch, Lucy found Karen in the cafeteria praying over her meal. Lucy had never seen Karen—or anyone, for that matter—pray over a school lunch. Lucy followed her lead, and when she sat down with her own sack lunch, she bowed her head and offered a quick prayer.

  “Well?” Lucy asked after she said amen.

  “Well what?” Karen chomped down on a fish stick.

  “How’s it going on the first day of your pledge?”

  “Okay, I gues
s,” Karen replied. “I nearly got in an argument with Donna Barclay about borrowing my brush, but realized it wasn’t something Jesus would argue about. Didn’t He say something about giving away your coat if someone asked?”

  Lucy nodded. “And to walk an extra mile.”

  “Yeah. So I gave Donna my brush.” Karen pushed a lock of her hair away from her plate. “I have to meet this afternoon with Mr. Laker to talk about the stationery for the student council. Big deal.”

  “The student council is getting its own stationery? Why?”

  “To write down all the high-powered decisions we’re going to make,” Karen said. “I voted against the idea. I thought we could use the money to do more important things. But I was in the minority, and it’s my job to pick what it’ll look like. How about you? How’s the pledge going?”

  “I’m not sure.” Lucy bit into her ham sandwich. “I think everything’s all right.”

  Karen looked at her skeptically. “That’s not what I heard. Mike’s been telling everyone you dumped his review and interview because you’re on some wacko religious kick.”

  “Oh, no!” Lucy groaned.

  “I couldn’t believe you did it,” Karen said proudly. “That must’ve been hard for you.”

  Lucy shook her head. “It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. Once I figured out why Jesus would have said no to the movie and interview, I knew I had a good case against it. But maybe that’s the trick here: Doing the right thing might start off easy, but living with the outcome may be the tough part.”

  “Mike says he’s going to complain to Mrs. Stegner,” Karen said. Mrs. Stegner was an English teacher and the faculty sponsor of the Odyssey Owl. Ultimately, she was responsible for everything to do with the newspaper. “Do you think she’ll back you up?”