In This Moment Page 12

  “Daddy . . .” Only then did Leah look at him. “Rachel said the police are going to put you in jail. Is that true?”

  There were so many false rumors flying around. So many false beliefs. Wendell sighed. “No, it’s not true. A person can’t go to jail for talking about Jesus.” He thought about Alicia’s fears. “Lots of people think that’s true in America today. But it’s not.” Wendell worked to keep his tone in check. “The Constitution guarantees us freedom of religion, Leah. Which means the kids at Hamilton High have a choice to pursue the Christian faith . . . or not.” He hesitated. “It’s their choice. And no one is going to jail.”

  Relief filled her eyes. “Are you sure?”

  “Completely.” Wendell smiled at her. He looked at his plate; he’d barely touched his food. No matter how calm he tried to appear to the children, the pit in his stomach was worse than ever. “Everything will be okay.”

  Wendell told himself that throughout dinner and while they cleared the dishes. He did so again later as they prayed together and as all of them said goodnight. Everything was going to be okay. No one was going to jail. Really.

  His reassuring thoughts lasted until the next morning.

  The reporters were camped off school property but just a few yards from Wendell’s marked parking spot. As he walked past them he learned several things—things the media had apparently found out before he did. Their questions came at him rapid-fire, even when he didn’t stop to answer them.

  “Mr. Quinn, have you had any personal issues with parent Andy Nelson before this?”

  Another woman pushed her way closer. “What is your statement about the lawsuit filed this morning on behalf of Mr. Nelson?”

  The reality hit Wendell so hard he nearly stopped walking. Andy Nelson? Cami’s father? Wendell felt sick to his stomach, but he kept on. The questions did, too. “How do you plan to handle the mandate from the school board, that you cease all further meetings with your after-school Bible study program?”

  Wendell’s head was spinning. Could all of that possibly be true? He ignored the reporters and headed into his office. Once inside, he closed the door. His hands shook, and the noise from outside echoed in his mind. A quick look out the window told him what he had hoped wasn’t true.

  The reporters were talking to students. Whatever students were willing to stop before they reached campus. Wendell’s mind raced and his head began to spin. His school district had issued a mandate, ordering the club to stop meeting? Andy Nelson had filed a lawsuit against him?

  Wendell turned on his computer and checked his email. His heart pounded as he spotted a message from an attorney for the school district. Yes, indeed, he was being sued. The charges against him had been filed by Andy Nelson, father of senior Cami Nelson. The letter was replete with legal jargon, but the bottom line was this:

  He was being summoned to court. The date seemed to consume the computer screen. Everything the reporters had said was true.

  In the most terrifying slow motion, Wendell felt the walls around him begin to crumble and fall in on top of him. The roof crashed onto his shoulders and the ground wouldn’t stop shaking. As if the world’s worst earthquake had started to destroy him, only this one showed no signs of stopping.

  Wendell held on to his desk and closed his eyes. How am I going to survive this, Lord? Make the room stop spinning, please. I have to lead this school, I have to take charge. And right now I don’t know how.

  Then, the way God always did, He whispered the faintest words to Wendell Quinn. The words Wendell had read yesterday morning in this very office. The ones from 2 Chronicles. You will not have to fight this battle. Take up your positions; stand firm and see the deliverance the LORD will give you . . .

  Wendell repeated the words to himself. You will not have to fight this battle The Lord will deliver you. Which meant one thing. If Wendell was going to stop the spinning and find some sort of steady ground, he couldn’t just sit here.

  He lowered himself to the floor. Slowly, and with the greatest certainty, he took his position, preparing himself for the battle ahead. And he did so from the only place he knew how to fight.

  On his knees.

  And there Wendell remembered the name of the person he had determined to contact if he ever wound up in this situation, his back against the wall: Luke Baxter. As soon as he finished praying, Wendell sat back at his desk and made the call to a man he’d never met before. And then he said one more prayer.

  That Luke would know what to do next.

  11

  Luke Baxter jumped as high as he could and snagged the Frisbee from the air—just before his brother-in-law Ryan had a chance to grab it. “Mine!” Luke laughed as he ran with the Frisbee. “Who’s on my team?”

  A handful of voices called out from the other side of the yard. Luke spotted his son Tommy, also on his team, and wound up for the throw. But instead of making it to Tommy, the Frisbee soared up and off the field—like it had a mind of its own.

  “Out of bounds!” Dayne ran to get the Frisbee while everyone laughed and caught their breath.

  Luke loved days like this. He had never been busier at work, and he knew the reason why. He was one of a few dozen attorneys battling for religious freedom in the United States, and very clearly the battle was getting worse.

  But no matter how busy things got, no matter how many cases came his way, Luke had always been determined to have one thing on the weekends: time with his family. Recently, though, his resolve had given way to the pressure of the cases he was handling, the importance of the religious freedoms at stake.

  It had been far too long since he’d made the trip to Bloomington. But this week God had seemed to make it very clear. He needed family time. Now. And so Luke and Reagan had driven their kids an hour west to Bloomington to hang out with their cousins at Ashley and Landon’s house.

  The Baxter house—the place where Luke and his siblings had been raised. Ashley and Landon owned the place now, and they hosted get-togethers here as often as they could. The kids loved playing kickball out front or running through the backyard and splashing in the creek and pond that made up part of the ten-acre property.

  Today it was a game of Ultimate Frisbee, and Luke was right in the thick of the action. Only Ashley, Kari and the youngest kids weren’t playing. Otherwise everyone was caught up in the game. His dad and Elaine were sipping iced tea from the porch, watching the action. Taking in every moment.

  The next hour flew by as each team won a game, and in the final minutes, Dayne’s group took the last match. Exhausted, both teams dragged themselves to the front porch for water bottles. When he could breathe normally again, Luke raised his water to the sky. “I call rematch. Next time we’re together.”

  Ryan laughed. He had been on Dayne’s team today. “You’re on.”

  Everyone headed inside, where John and Elaine had joined Ashley and Kari in making dinner. The whole house smelled like pulled pork and baked sweet potatoes. Luke approached his dad and put his arm around his shoulders. “I’m telling you, Dad. You and Elaine could open your own restaurant.”

  “From doctor to manager of a restaurant.” His dad chuckled. “I think I’ll stick to days like this.”

  “Good idea.” Ashley grinned at Luke. She was working on a salad across the counter. “Otherwise they’d be too busy to cook for us.”

  Elaine held up a plate of fresh sliced red peppers. “The secret is the local vegetables. Anyone can make a good dinner with the food we get at the farmers’ market.”

  Half an hour later everyone was seated around two large tables in the dining room. Ashley and Landon used the old wooden table the Baxters had eaten at when they were growing up, and on days when the extended family was together, they brought in a second one.

  So they could all be together. The way they loved best.

  Luke’s dad led the prayer, and once the meal was under way, they went around the room and talked about what was new, how God had been working in their lives or how
they needed prayer. Dayne and Katy and their kids were well. “We still haven’t found the story we want to develop for our investor. But we’re thinking it’ll be about religious freedom.”

  Luke used his napkin and set it back on his lap. “I have a dozen cases I could tell you about.” He hesitated, thinking about his workload. “Nothing really sensational, though. I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”

  “Thanks.” Dayne looked pensive. “It’s so troubling. How commonplace attacks on religious freedom have become.”

  Luke remembered the case that had dominated the media the past few days. “You heard about the principal in Indianapolis? The one being sued because of his after-school program?” He shook his head. “Poor guy doesn’t stand a chance, from what I can tell. He’ll lose his job and the program . . . and unless I’m missing something, he’ll lose the lawsuit.” Luke looked around. “That’s just the way things are now.”

  Everyone agreed.

  Next Brooke and Peter talked about a new program they were developing at their medical clinic. “It’ll be in conjunction with the initiative put out by the city of Bloomington earlier this year. Training people about the connection between physical fitness and mental health.” Brooke looked excited about the new opportunity. “It’s always something.”

  Peter nodded, and Dayne looked around the table. “I forgot to ask . . . while we look for the right movie, if you all could pray about the one we’re working on. It’s a love story.”

  “Yes, it’s beautiful.” Katy nodded. “Centered around the Oklahoma City bombing.” She looked around. “Remember that? Like twenty-some years ago?”

  The others nodded. Luke was young, but he remembered the tragedy. “A hundred people were killed, right?”

  “Actually 168 people.” Dayne paused to let that sink in. “It’s called To the Moon and Back.”

  “To the Moon and Back?” Kari took a sip of water and turned to Katy. “Like the bedtime story?”

  “Yes.” Katy’s eyes filled with emotion. “The main couple . . . both their mothers used to say that to them. But now it’s more like the story of their lives. They’ve been to the moon and back and still not found peace.”

  “Wow.” Luke caught the vision for the film. “Sounds amazing.”

  “It’ll be powerful.” Dayne took a deep breath. “Difficult, but powerful. A story of true healing and redemption.”

  The conversation shifted to Ryan and Kari and the football season under way at Clear Creek High. “Those Flanigan boys score half the touchdowns.” Ryan laughed. “No one can keep up with them.”

  During a lull, Luke looked at his niece Maddie. “Speaking of the Flanigans, how are things with Connor?” The oldest Flanigan boy was a sophomore at Liberty University this year.

  Maddie’s cheeks turned pink. She looked down at her plate and then up at the others. “We’re struggling a little. Still friends, though.” She smiled at Brooke. “Mom and I were talking about him on our way here.” Maddie looked at Luke again. “He wants to talk to you about the cases you’ve been taking. He’s really thinking about going into film. But he’s not sure. Sometimes he thinks he might be a lawyer.”

  Hayley, Maddie’s younger sister, motioned with her fork toward the others. “And yes, if you want to know, they are no longer officially boyfriend and girlfriend.” She raised her eyebrows. “But if you ask me, they’ll get married one day.”

  No one was more loving and kind than Hayley, even when it came to a teasing moment like this.

  “Thank you, Hayley . . .” Maddie’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “You never know. We’ll see.”

  The meal was nearly over when Luke felt his cell phone buzz in his pocket. He took it out and read the message. It was his answering service. Apparently an urgent call had come in the day before. For some reason, the message was only getting to him now. Luke excused himself and headed out the front door onto the porch to listen.

  “Mr. Baxter, you don’t know me. My name’s Wendell Quinn. I’m the principal at Hamilton High School on the west side of Indianapolis.” The man paused. “Mr. Baxter, I’m in a great deal of trouble. I run a voluntary Bible study here at the school, and now I’m being sued.”

  Luke felt his heart sink. There was nothing he could do for the man. He had read enough about the case to know that.

  “The truth is . . .” The man sounded desperate. “I need your help, and I wondered if you’d give me a call. I was on my knees earlier and God reminded me of your name. I’m not saying that to coerce you, but . . . there’s no one I’d rather have on my side than you.”

  Wendell rattled off his phone number twice—just so Luke wouldn’t miss it. “I’ll be praying for your call. I’m not afraid, Mr. Baxter. But I definitely need some help here. Please call me back at your soonest convenience.”

  For a long moment after the message ended, Luke stared out at the front yard where he’d grown up. Who would have ever imagined such a thing? A principal helps bring a school back from the brink of destruction, and now he’s sued? All because the solution involved God?

  Luke went back inside the house and found the adults around one of the tables, drinking coffee and still talking. Luke tried to smile. “Where’d the kids go?”

  Reagan laughed. “Every direction.” She explained that the younger boys had gone out back to explore the pond, while the older kids had gone upstairs to watch the last half of the Indiana versus Michigan football game. The little girls were coloring in the craft room.

  The heaviness in Luke’s heart made its way to the surface. “I just got a message from the principal we were talking about, the one being sued for holding the after-school Bible club.”

  His siblings and their spouses were instantly in tune. Dad and Elaine, too. “What did he say?” Luke’s father leaned back in his seat. “You look upset.”

  “I don’t know what to do.” Luke sighed. “He wants me to represent him.” Luke crossed his arms. “Only the case is a no-win. There’s literally nothing I can do for the man. Much as I’d like to.”

  “I read about the case.” Ryan leaned his forearms on the table and shook his head. “The program was voluntary. Seems like he should have a chance.”

  “Precedent isn’t on his side.” Luke had gone over this more times than he could count in recent years. Always when a case involved prayer or Bible reading, courts would look back to the original cases that had changed things in the United States. “It all started in 1962 with Engel v. Vitale. It happened in New York.”

  Luke explained that back then the children in the New Hyde Park school district recited the same prayer each morning. “I happen to think the prayer is beautiful.” Luke looked at the faces around him. “The kids would say, ‘Almighty God, we acknowledge our dependence upon Thee, and beg Thy blessings upon us, our parents, and our country. Amen.’ ”

  Ashley looked as shocked as the others. “Kids in a public school used to start their day like that?”

  “They did.” Their dad nodded. “I remember praying something similar to that when I was in school.”

  Elaine nodded. “Me, too.”

  “It was commonplace.” Luke hesitated. “Anyway, that year some of the parents formed a group and sued the school district, claiming that the prayer violated the Constitution’s establishment clause—which basically says, ‘Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.’ ”

  The case quickly gained national interest, with most Americans standing by the school district. People believed that such a prayer was certainly not establishing a religion, as it was vague enough to serve the interests of nearly all religions.

  “But not vague enough for the Supreme Court.” Luke took a quick breath. “That case rewrote the way prayer was handled in public schools.”

  “I remember studying that in school.” Brooke took a sip of her coffee and looked at Peter. “People look back on that as the year God was kicked out of the public schools.”<
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  “Me, too.” Peter put his arm around his wife. “Brooke was just helping Hayley with a history test on that the other day.”

  “And it didn’t end there.” Luke went on to explain that next came a case brought by the founder of American Atheists, Madalyn Murray O’Hair. The famous 1963 lawsuit became known as Murray v. Curlett, and it led to a landmark Supreme Court ruling that ended Bible reading in American public schools.

  “The next year, I believe, Life magazine referred to Murray O’Hair as the most hated woman in America.” John looked troubled by the matter. “Our schools have gotten further and further away from God and prayer every year since.”

  “Exactly.” Luke sighed. “With this principal—Wendell Quinn—any lawyer for the plaintiff would call on precedent set back in the sixties, or a number of rulings since then, and Quinn would lose before the case ever got to jury.”

  Ryan seemed especially intrigued by the situation. “What about whether the kids wanted to read the Bible and pray? There has to be a way the principal can be vindicated.”

  “There really isn’t.” Luke didn’t want to talk about the case all night. He wanted to hear more about how his nieces and nephews were doing, which of them were playing sports or dancing or acting in one of the upcoming Christian Kids Theater plays. He would have to call the principal sometime tomorrow after church and tell him the reality.

  He’d love to help, but the man faced a no-win legal battle.

  Later that night, Luke’s father pulled him aside. “You have a minute?”

  “Of course.” They walked to the living room. John sat on the sofa and Luke took the seat opposite his father. “What’s up?”

  His dad crossed one leg over the other, quiet for a moment, as if he were ordering his thoughts. “I’ve been thinking about that principal. Son, I think you should help him.”

  Luke took his time responding. Of course he wanted to help. But there wasn’t anything he could do. “I’d love to, Dad. You know me.” He clenched his jaw. “I fight these cases for a living, and I love it. Anything I can do to help preserve the dwindling religious rights of the people of this nation, I’m ready to take it on.”