Saturday, June 03, 2006

Throwaway

Last night at the Mill Creek pub in Damascus, I found myself listening to the life story of a very sad young man. I'll call him Jason. His father, a brutal alcoholic, attempted to provoke the miscarriage of Jason's younger brother, kicking Jason's mother in the abdomen repeatedly. It was not the only episode of violence, not by a long shot, but it was the most memorable. It also failed, as Jason's brother was born healthy.

Jason's father eventually got into a head on collision with a rock truck, drunk, with his two sons in the car. Jason's arms and ribs were broken, but his brother's femur was driven into his heart and he died. Jason's mother and father were divorced overnight. When Jason woke in the hospital, there was no one at his side but nurses and doctors. His parents had fled their ruined lives, leaving Jason behind, in agony, alone in a hospital bed.

Now Jason's father has remarried and turned to Christ and away from liquor. His mother has also remarried. Both parents pretty much ignore Jason, even through stints in jail and a suicide attempt. I do not know how a parent can ignore the fact that a son was sucking on a 12 gauge alone in the woods. The scale of that kind of denial can only be described as evil.

Now Jason has been sucked into a charismatic megachurch congregation. He relates how he felt the Spirit inside of him as the preacher laid hands on him before thousands of worshippers. I didn't have the heart to tell him that it wasn't the Holy Spirit. It was the feeling of not being throwaway.

The horror of this story is that his friends in the church are from nearly identical situations. Throwaways, once innocent, now so very vulnerable. These are the legions of hate, just now mobilized, filled with dire anger at the secular culture that has abandoned them.

Jason offered me liquor and cocaine for listening to his story, in between exhortations of the Spirit. I declined, and went to the Hostel for a troubled sleep.

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