Caleb - Under Scrutiny

After being on “spiritual fasting” for almost a week, where I wasn’t able to speak anyone outside of church, I was summoned to speak with church higher ups that I’ve never spoken to before. Or maybe I did, but I wasn’t really the type to put importance in popularity or ranking.

They called it a conversation, not a trial. That was the first insult. The second was the room.

The long wooden table I had studied Scripture over a hundred times now felt like an altar I was being laid upon, not invited to kneel at. Three men sat across from me. All of them were older and senior in ranking. All were calm as if convinced they already knew the ending.

I stood and they remained seated. That alone told me everything. After a long moment of me not saying anything, not grovelling on my knees, eventually, one of them spoke.

‘Sit, Caleb,’ like you’d speak to a skittish animal.

I didn’t.

‘I would like to stand,’ I replied.

They paused and exchanged looks between them. Said, “Permission granted”, with a nod. As if it were theirs to give.

They slid a printed photograph across the table. I didn’t need to look. I already knew it by heart.

‘Do you recognize this image?’ the head priest asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Can you explain it?’

I took a slow, controlled breath.

‘I was praying with someone who was in distress,’ I said. ‘She was not alone with me the whole time. We were with her family in the hospital. She was not harmed. She was not touched inappropriately. I crossed no vow.’ Well, during the time we hugged on the rooftop, at least.

Another priest leaned forward. ‘And yet you admit intimacy.’

‘I admit care,’ I said. ‘And I admit that I have feelings for her.’ 

The room shifted. They all started blatantly whispering in front of me. 

‘Though, she rejected me at the beginning.’

There it was. That was the real confession, not the photo nor the rumor, but the actual feeling behind it all. My honest emotion.

One of them sighed disappointedly. ‘Caleb,’ he said, ‘feelings pass.’

I clenched my jaw.

‘They always do,’ another added. ‘Especially when they are… misplaced.’

‘Misplaced?’ I echoed.

‘You are under immense pressure. You are young. You are admired. Temptation often disguises itself as connection.’

Temptation…. I felt something crack in my chest.

‘She is not temptation,’ I said with slight voice raise. ‘She is a person.’

Silence. Then scripture.

Of course. 

One of them opened a Bible and read smoothly. “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”

Another followed. “Blessed is the man who endures temptation.”

Another added as kindly as he could. “Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.”

They looked at me like they’d handed me balm. Like this was comfort. I felt heat rise behind my eyes.

‘Do you know what angers me?’ I asked quietly.

They did not answer.

‘You speak as though I am the one under attack,’ I continued. ‘As though I am the victim here. As though this is something done to me.’

I gestured to the photo.

‘You do not ask who she is. You do not ask if she is safe. You do not ask if this has destroyed her life.’

Another pause and share whispers amongst the three.

‘She won’t contact you,’ one of them said calmly. ‘These women never do. They disappear when attention comes. You’ll see. This will resolve itself.’

My hands curled into fists.

‘She hasn’t contacted me,’ I said. ‘Because she knows for certain that I will always come back to her. All she had to do was just wait for me.’

That earned me looks. Not quite approving yet, not condemning either. It felt like they were calculating something in their minds..

‘That was wise,’ the head priest eventually said. ‘Good judgment.’

‘No,’ I snapped. ‘That was fear. Fear of her being hurt because of me.’

Silence fell heavy. They exchanged glances again, only ever murmuring to themselves, until finally, they admitted the truth.

‘Caleb,’ the head priest said carefully, ‘we are not dismissing you. Quite the opposite.’

He leaned back. ‘You are… valuable.’

There it was.

‘You draw people,’ he continued. ‘Young people. Doubting people. You speak well. You look—’ He stopped himself. ‘You represent something hopeful. We have invested in you.’

Invested. Not called. Not loved. Invested.

‘This scandal,’ another added, ‘will pass. We will guide the narrative. You will step back from public appearances briefly. Then you will return. Chastened. Stronger.’

‘And her?’ I asked.

They did not answer.

‘What happens to her?’ I repeated.

They all shrugged in tandem. ‘She is not our responsibility. She will eventually get tired of waiting for you.’

Something broke in me then. Not my faith in Lord, but maybe my faith in the church. With people who claimed they followed the Lord yet withhold compassion to those needing it. In this instance, it wasn’t only Aika, it was also myself.

‘You are wrong,’ I protested respectfully. ‘If she was harmed because of proximity to me, then she is absolutely my responsibility.’

The head priest’s tone hardened. ‘You are not to see her.’

‘I didn’t say I would.’

‘You are not to contact her.’

‘I didn’t say I wouldn’t.’ 

I felt like an absolutely mischievous child, but I couldn’t allow injustice. To anyone yes, and more specially to Aika.

Silence fell in the room.

‘Caleb,’ he warned.

‘I will not lie,’ I said. ‘Not to you. Not to God. And not to her.’

They stared at me like I’d grown horns.

‘You are emotional,’ one said. ‘This is passing. You will look back on this and be grateful we intervened.’

Grateful? I laughed in disbelief.

‘I am not angry at God,’ I said quietly. ‘I am angry at men who use Him as a shield.’

The tone of my voice and the way I questioned authority ended the meeting effectively. Didn’t you know that you aren’t supposed to have thoughts and feelings of your own? That you’re supposed to follow the designated head? Yeah screw that…. Sorry Lord…

Outside, the air was chaos.

Cameras were all over the air like sea gulls. Voices all warped into one. Questions shouted like weapons.

‘Father, is it true?’

‘Who is the woman?’

‘Have you broken your vows?’

Security pulled me through a side exit. My phone was taken ‘‘temporarily’’ for my own good. They said that a lot, but that longer I thought about it, the more I recognize that not a single thing in this is about me and my general goodness. I borrowed my phone back long enough to reach out to Aika. After seeing that the phone was about to die anyways, I was given it. My hands shook as I typed.

“Please don’t come back to Izu yet.”

“I’ll explain. I promise.” 

I stared at the sending messages until the screen went dark.

I hope it got sent to her somehow…

She did not reach nor appeared anywhere close to me. Did she see the news and was already keeping safe on her own? If that’s the case then that’s good.

My silence was protection, not abandonment. Please don’t misunderstand, Aika.

The paparazzi lights flashed behind me as I was ushered into a car.

I closed my eyes and prayed for forgiveness and for strength.

For the first time in my life, obedience and righteousness were no longer the same thing.