Surviving the Storm

                                         

   Ever since I reinvigorated this blog, we've followed the stories of women in the Bible. Today, we begin a new series and we'll focus on the Psalms.

  Are they relevant to twenty-first century life? 

        That's what we'll discover.

             Each episode will be a story or a meditation, and you can apply Psalm 1 to the first episode. 

         What do personal insults and storms have in common? 

                  How do you survive an onslaught?

 

                                      Melissa

   During her final year at her high school, Melissa’s teacher asked the class to submit an essay supporting Darwin’s theory of evolution as the logical explanation for the universe. As a Christian who believed in the biblical Creation account, Melissa groaned.

 Should she regurgitate the teacher’s view to achieve a high grade, or present her reasons in favor of the Genesis account?

  It was Friday. Melissa and her school friends sat eating their lunch under the trees in the school quadrangle. Despite her reputation as the class chatterbox, she munched on her sandwich and silently agonized over the two approaches. The entire school knew Mr. Jensen indulged in snide comments about religion, but as a leader in the school Crusader movement, Melissa knew she should remain loyal to Jesus and to the Bible. If no-one else seemed bothered by it, should she be churned up inside?

 Kerry, always the flirt, giggled and tapped Melissa’s arm.

   “Isn’t Pete is the most handsome dude in the class, Mel? I’d give anything to land a date with him to the graduation ball.”

 Mel wasn’t listening. “Mel? What planet are you on, girl? You haven’t heard a word I’ve said to you.”

“Sorry! Kerry, but I’m stressing over that essay. Should I write about the evolution theory, or explain why I believe in God’s creation?”

“Do you want to pass the test? Write what the old boy what he wants and save yourself a heap of trouble, because what’s more important? Graduating with honours or your moral high ground? We all bend the rules sometimes.”

"Maybe."

 But what if Mr. Jensen labelled her a hypocrite? He’d already chipped her for witnessing to students, which meant he knew she’d taken a stand for God.

 And she was still stewing over it at dinnertime. She asked her mum for her opinion.

 “That has to be your decision. What matters to you most? I suggest you’ve pray about it, love.”

Whenever Mel felt downhearted, she turned to the Psalms for comfort.

 Here goes… I’ll read Psalm 1.

 ‘Blessed is the man who doesn’t walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners. His delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night.’

 “Jesus, your Word is eternal and brilliant, and I love how you died for my sins, and rose again. It’s cool you are with me and you promise to keep me when I stay close to you, but what am I going to do for my essay?”

 “Yes, Melissa, my child, I love you. Abide in me. Keep reading."

‘He (or she) is like a tree planted by streams of water which yields fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither.’

 “If I write a Darwinian essay to pass my exam, will my faith wither? I witness for you at Crusaders’ club.”

 “Take up your cross, follow me and remember, I am this world’s light.”

 “How can I be strong and produce fruit for you, when Mr. Jensen is so mean? His snide comment are embarrassing!”

I understand your struggle, but I obeyed my Father and I will support you.

 She read the next verse…

‘Not so the wicked! They are like chaff, which the wind blows away. Therefore, they will not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.’

 If she adopted Kerry’s suggestion, she’d be like the chaff, tossed in the wind, uprooted from God’s word. And if she ignored Jesus, would he protect her school grades?

 “Okay, Jesus, they insulted and tortured you before you died on the cross. I guess I’ll survive if you walk beside me.”

With her decision made, Mel researched her topic and presented the essay to Mr. Jensen.

“Pleased you got it in on time. You’re an exemplary student, Melissa, and I don’t expect you will disappoint me.”

A tremor shot through her body. Wait until you read my essay!

  On Monday morning, he strode into the classroom, the stack of marked papers under his arm, and he slammed them down on the desk. The class crept and shrivelled into their seats, tense with dread. Why was he glowering, black as a tornado?           

 “Before I return your essays, I will test your recall as preparation for your exam. Stand up, Melissa, and please explain why Darwin’s theory is the best model since your essay failed to address the subject from a scientific perspective. Quaint fables and fickle emotions are paltry substitutes for scientific method. State your case, girl, for we all want to hear how you surpass Darwin.”

 A sarcastic smirk played on his lips as he surveyed the class, his arms clamped across his broad chest. Mel rose from her chair and sent a silent prayer to heaven.

 “Mr. Jensen, I could not agree Darwin's theory is right. Random selection suggests disorganisation, which we do not observe in the intricacy of the human body or the perfection of all microscopic cells.”

“So, Melissa, in your arrogance, you possess greater intelligence than every scientist who has devoted his life to the study of life on this planet.” His inflection shot up to a sneering falsetto.

 “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.”

 Suppressed giggles rippled across the class, but Mr. Jensen glowered with rage as he eyeballed Melissa centimeters from her desk.

 “And who made God, hah? My father tried to ram that simplistic fable down my throat, the product of ancient Hebrew mythology. If you think you can convince me, you are mistaken. Modern minds have debunked this ridiculous fable. Grow up, you naïve child, and face reality. Your so-called God is nothing more than the product of an antiquated mind, an opiate for the masses.”

The class erupted into hysterical chatter. Mel crumpled into her seat, scorching, and a tear escaped down her cheek. She’d known he would disagree, but never imagined he would humiliate her before her peers.

Kerry poked her in the ribs. “That was dumb. I warned you he could be brutal.”

      Oh, Jesus, why didn’t you stop him? I tried to be a fruitful witness for you.

      Silence.

  "Open your text books and read the next chapter."

As the class ended, Mr. Jensen handed out the marked essays. He looked a little sheepish.

 “Melissa, since you have been a model student this year, I'll grant you an extension to rewrite your essay, and I want no more of this pedantic nonsense. Do you hear me?”

“Mr. Jensen, I can’t write what I don’t believe. If you must fail my work, I will accept your mark as final.”

Pete was standing in the line behind her, and he followed her into the corridor.

  “Hey, Mel. I wish I had your courage. You sure stood by your beliefs. Why do you think Darwin got it wrong? Even if Mr. Jensen doesn’t agree with you, he should have respected your right to explain your views.”

“Thanks, Pete, I agree. He was rough on me. As for my beliefs, everything in creation has an order, including ourselves. When we create a perfect result, we've stuck to a plan. If a builder threw a stack of bricks on a block of land, no amount of earthquakes over millions of years would shake them into a designer house. A clever, eternal intelligence must have been created the universe. Stars, mountains, animals and plants exist because God planned every minute detail to function together.”

 “I see your point, but I’d need to study it further to verify it. As for old Jensen, I think you should take your essay to the principal. Jensen can’t force you to comply with his views, as long as you know the curriculum.”

“Thanks, Pete. I guess I will have to rewrite my essay. If you decide to come to Crusaders, we can discuss it with a bunch of other guys. We’d love to see you, if you’re interested. No pressure, but you’re welcome.”

That night, when Mel tried to rewrite her essay, the words refused to flow from her pen. She re-opened her Bible in Psalm 1.

 ‘The Lord protects the righteous, but the wicked face destruction.’

“Lord, I don’t feel you’re protecting me. I’m going to fail this exam if I don’t support Mr. Jensen’s teaching. I want to believe you, Lord, but when those kids laughed at me, I could have died.”

 Melissa tossed and turned all night. She hadn’t revised her essay and expected she'd fail her test. Unfair. 

But as she wandered down the hall the next morning, the principal called her name.

 “Melissa, I’d like to see you in my office during your lunch break. Bring your Darwinian essay with you. As Mr Jensen is concerned for you, I would like to help you achieve your goals.”

“Yes, sir. I will be there at one.”

“Very good. I will see you then.”

Jesus, he wants to change my mind, but I can’t. Oh, no! It’s Crusaders today. I’m supposed to lead the prayer, and I’d miss Pete if he goes.

 One o’clock found Mel outside the principal’s office with her arms gripping her body, clutching the scrunched essay in her sweaty palm.

“Ah Melissa. Come in. May I see your essay?”

 She flattened it before giving to the principal. He perused it, nodding.

 “What did Mr. Jensen say to you? While I don’t hold your views, you have referenced impressive sources, applied logic, and presented thought-provoking arguments.”

“He expressed his distaste, sir, for my beliefs, and told me to rewrite my essay.”

“I’ve heard he humiliated you. Peter Smith visited me after school yesterday and told me how Mr. Jensen berated you. Since this school doesn’t allow staff to intimidate its students, I have interviewed three classmates who have exposed his derogatory remarks, and a panel will review his classroom techniques. If you rewrite your essay explaining Darwin’s theory and incorporate your disclaimer, I will review your assessment.”

 “Thank you, sir!”

 Before her next class, Mr Jensen beckoned her aside.

 “Seems you’ve won this round. I apologize for letting personal issues inflame me. I hope you will forgive me.”

“Yes, sir, and I will hand in my revised essay tomorrow.”

“Very good, and I shall look forward to reading it.”

 As the storm subsided in her soul, Mel lifted her heart to God.

“And I thank you, heavenly Father, for the deep roots you've planted in my spirit. Your word is truth, and I’ve learned to trust you through storms and live near you when days are peaceful.”

Do you go to the Bible when life tosses you? Do deep, steady roots of faith keep you grounded when painful insults buffet your spirit?