Covet Thy Neighbor

room to join him in the hall. “Yeah. That’s why they hired me in the first place. They needed a youth pastor, but also someone to run the program. Max is one of the homeless kids who’s staying with us until he gets himself together.”
    “So . . . the church. It actually has a program for queer kids?”
    Darren nodded. “The pastor started the program when he started the church. Lost his brother after their parents threw him out, and decided it was his calling to help others in the same predicament.”
    “Wow. That’s . . . um, that’s awesome. I mean, that you and the pastor are doing all of that.” Which is not helping my resolve to not want you, right?
    “It’s a good program,” he said. “We’re trying to get some more community support, but it’s a start.”
    “That’s great.”
    Our eyes met, and locked, just like they often did when we were in this hallway. Judging by past experiences, now we were in serious danger of talking about things other than his church’s program, so I quickly—and awkwardly—said, “Well, I won’t keep you. It’s late enough as it is.”
    He smiled. “Good night.”
    “Good night.”
    He started toward his apartment and I started toward mine, but I hesitated.
    “Hey, um.” I cleared my throat. “I know we don’t necessarily see eye to eye on beliefs, but that . . . that outreach program.” I paused. “Is there any way I can help? You know, help the kids out?”
    “We need all the help we can get.” As he pulled his keys out of his pocket, he turned toward me again. “Do you have any evenings off coming up?”
    “Monday and Tuesday.”
    “Why don’t you come by on Monday, then? If you don’t have anything else going on? The youth group usually helps out on Wednesday nights, but the other nights can get a little thinly staffed.”
    “I can be there Monday, yeah.”
    “Great.” He smiled. “I really appreciate it. Thanks.”
    “Anytime.”

I’d sworn up and down for the last several years that I’d never set foot in a church again, but here I was, walking through the front door of the New Light Church. On the way across the threshold, I was strangely tempted to stop and cross myself. Very weird for a non-spiritual person who’d never been Catholic, but going into a place like this, I’d take all the wards and protections I could get.
    Relax. It’s just a church. And it’s not that church.
    So like a vampire strolling onto holy ground, I walked inside.
    This definitely wasn’t one of those gaudy mega-churches like the one my family had attended. No multimillion-dollar facility. No gilded statues and candle holders in front of massive speakers. No elaborate stained glass or giant screens at the front of a sanctuary with stadium seating and surround sound.
    It was almost like a glorified community center. I half-expected the sanctuary to be full of folding chairs instead of pews, but it did have pews. Weathered ones with the odd crack or stain, but pews.
    Though it was nothing like the church I’d attended eons ago, it had its familiar points. A black-covered, gold-embossed Bible. Uniform hymnals with their red-edged pages. The odd painting of a pensive, Caucasian Christ.
    All those familiar things and the single large wooden cross at the front of the sanctuary were like a weird connection between what I’d believed back then and what I believed now. The memory of my feelings about that icon—the sense of peace and devotion—was crystal clear, but somehow disconnected. Like I’d picked up the emotional memories of someone else. Someone who would never in a million years wonder how anyone could find peace in a symbol akin to a hangman’s noose.
    “Seth?”
    I shook my head, and then turned toward the sound of Darren’s voice.
    He raised his eyebrows. “You okay?”
    “Yeah.” I rolled my shoulders under my hoodie, pretending I didn’t feel like I was breaking out in hives. “Just, um . . .” And how exactly do I explain this?
    “There’s no holy water,” he said. “So you shouldn’t have to worry about it bubbling or frothing when you walk by.”
    I laughed. “Well, that’s always a plus.”
    He chuckled, but his brow was still creased. “You sure you’re okay?”
    I swallowed. “I’m fine. It’s just a little surreal to be back in a church after so long.” A little surreal? Understatement.
    “I don’t doubt it,” he said. “If you’re sure you’re all right, though, I’ll show you around.”
    “Right.