or more high school students. Some are really on fire for the Lord.
It is interesting, however, that the subjects of Hell and Satan have come up more and more lately. I tell you that because I’ve been forced to try and figure out what I truly believe about those things. Head knowledge is one thing, but what a man believes deep in his heart is a wholly other thing. Throughout my time at Harvard in the divinity school, I was never asked the question point-blank. I guess it was always assumed. But never—not growing up in Solitary, not during my time in Cambridge—did anyone ever sit me down and ask me whether or not I believed in the notion of Hell.
Recently I’ve felt like I’ve been making things up. Being vague and simple. But to be honest—and since you’ve done so much for me and have always been there and been so honest in our conversations, I feel I must do the same—I just don’t buy it. I don’t believe it. I can’t see how a God who is all-loving and all-knowing and all-powerful could create a place where people would be sent to suffer eternally. It doesn’t make sense. Evil—yes, I can believe in that. I saw that growing up in Solitary. I saw a great many things growing up in Solitary that I never understood and that I still feel don’t truly make sense. But devils and demons? No. I just don’t buy into that.
I guess with the year 2000 approaching and people so focused on the end-of-the-world, the question of eternity continues to come up. As if Y2K is going to kill us all and we’re going to wake up the next morning in our eternal destination. It’s amazing how powerful fear can be. I see the fervor of members of our congregation when the pastor is preaching a morning message. Of course this is a large suburban church, so there are few shout-outs or hysteria like that. But still—the passion I see in the eyes of some is amazing. But it sometimes equals the fear I see in others.
One student—a freshman new to our church—recently he told me he felt like his mother was demon-possessed. I asked him why he felt this way. I wanted to see if he was just another teenager obsessed with so-called “dark” things, one who might have seen too many movies about demons and witches. He told me he would see his mother switch sometimes to another personality, leading me to believe that perhaps she needs some medical help. I couldn’t completely dismiss what this boy said. The fear in his eyes and in his body—it almost made me sick. I ended up telling him that there was no reason to be afraid of these demons, that sometimes a devil might simply leave the body if there is much prayer—that sort of thing. I didn’t consider this to be a lie. I considered it to be giving this boy hope.
What I really wish I could have done is to tell him the truth. But in my role, especially my very new role, I couldn’t.
Ah—I see that I have digressed into matters of the church and of my job. Please forgive me. You don’t need to hear such lengthy details. Summing up the job at the church, I have felt welcomed and embraced here. It’s nice to finally be working, not to mention receiving a steady paycheck.
You asked about Heidi and then detected some amount of … well, not sure what you detected. But you detected something, so I will be honest with you. Things have been a bit rough since the move and the new job. I will readily admit that I’ve been putting in many hours. But that is what you do when you first start a new job. You want to impress the people you work with. Doing a good job as a youth pastor means putting in an exorbitant amount of hours. And Heidi doesn’t understand that. At least, that is what I think.
We’ve been here six weeks, and I know that we’ve only been married for a few months, but the honeymoon doesn’t last forever. I love Heidi dearly. More than anything else in this world. And she knows that. Things won’t always be like this, but for now, my schedule is going to be very
Elizabeth Ann Scarborough