Caleb - The Approved Truth

Something has changed…

There was a different kind of silence that covered the church long before the headlines moved on to other news. The type that appears when people are no longer sure which way the wind is blowing.

No admonition given, no reassurance offered. Only space. It was more unsettling than punishment.

I had slept poorly again. My dreams were fragments. Aika’s trembling hands. The way she had looked at me like she was memorizing my face for a future she did not trust herself to want. A random fat orange cat sitting on my chest like a sleep paralysis judge.

I told myself not to check my phone, but I checked it eventually. No new messages from her. Only the one I had sent weeks ago sat there.

“Please don’t come back to Izu yet.”

The words felt like a betrayal every time I reread them.

I had meant “Let me stand in the fire first”, “Let me protect you from this”, “Give me time to make this safe”.

What she might have heard was “Stay away from me”.

The guilt gnawed at me relentlessly for weeks. A lot of the things I’ve done or said, I could’ve executed better.

Because of my uncertainly, we have both decided to stay away from each other. Sigh.

Midmorning, I was summoned again.

This time, the room was different. It was the larger one with windows open. A deliberate change of setting meant to signal reasonableness. A man I hadn’t met before sat at the table. He smiled as if we were old friends.

‘Caleb. Thank you for your patience.’ He said.

Patience. Another word dressed as virtue.

‘You’ve had a difficult few weeks. Public misunderstanding can be… painful.’ he continued.

I didn’t respond.

‘We want you to know that the situation is being monitored.’ He said.

Monitored... Not resolved?

‘There is no need for further statements from you. The narrative is stabilizing.’ He added.

I stiffened. ‘What narrative?’

He smiled again. ‘That this was an unfortunate lapse. Human, understandable, regrettable.’

My stomach twisted.

‘And Aika?’ I asked with a bit of respect left.

He tilted his head. ‘That woman?’

That woman? I stared at him in a rude way this time.

He went on smoothly. ‘Public interest has a short memory. Especially when deprived of detail.’

So they hadn’t defended Aika. They had erased her. Like a random temptation.

‘You’re asking me to pretend she doesn’t exist,’ I said.

‘We are asking you to return your focus to your calling,’ he replied. ‘Which, if you recall, predates her.’

Something in me snapped cleanly.

‘My calling has never required me to abandon someone in pain.’ I spat.

He sighed. ‘You are young.’

I smiled without humor. ‘And you are afraid.’

The meeting ended shortly after that. I was given reassurance that I was valued, I was forgiven. That this all would pass. But the result was the opposite. I walked out feeling smaller than I had ever felt inside these walls.

It was pointless to bring up that my father also faced the same situation as I did, and to look at how well he’s doing now. While he faced the same scrutiny using the same rules, the people surrounding his scenario and my one are different.

It was only later, alone in my room, that I noticed the shift online. The headlines were different. Some were kinder, the rest were uncertain. Questions replaced declarations.

‘Who is the woman? Why has no one spoken for her? Why is the institution silent?’

A notification with Aika’s name covered my screen. My breath caught painfully as I opened it.

‘I am preparing to tell the truth to the world. About myself and my past. I want to protect you. You’re not alone anymore’

I stared at the screen in utter disbelief. I refreshed the screen to confirm. It really was from her. My hands began to shake. I sank onto the edge of the bed with a pounding heart. The weight of her words crashed into me all at once.

She had done what I couldn’t. While I was negotiating silence, she had chosen clarity. While I was being managed, she had moved. I could only laugh at myself.

‘Of course you did,’ I whispered.

Tears blurred my vision. I cried in awe and relief. Aika has decided to stand up. With or without me…

This was the girl who “half” kissed me. Of course. She always had it in her to get what she wants. I pray that she gets it all and more.

I opened my Bible without thinking, my fingers landing on a page already worn from years of reading.

“The truth will set you free.” John 8:32

I pressed my forehead to the page. I finally understand it.

Freedom didn’t come from being spared. It came from being brave enough to speak anyway. And Aika, she had never been weak. She had been healing and waiting.

I wiped my face and looked around the room that had contained me in the past year. It suddenly felt too small.

If faith demanded silence in the face of harm, then faith had been misused. God exists, I was probably just in the midst of those who worshipped outdated scriptures. I understand now why my father had to leave.

*****

I was called in after evening prayer.

Older men seated in a careful semicircle like judges pretending to be shepherds. They began, as they always did, with Scripture.

‘A bishop must be above reproach,’ one of them said calmly. ‘Temperate. Self-controlled.’

He tapped the page lightly. ‘You know the verse.’

‘I do. First Timothy. Chapter three.’ I responded.

It also speaks about “having a wife and being faithful to her” but I doubt that’s the one they want to speak about.

Another voice followed immediately. ‘You have become a stumbling block to many. Romans fourteen. “It is better not to do anything that causes your brother to stumble”.’

I nodded once. ‘Correct.’

They exchanged looks. They thought this would be easy.

‘Then you understand why distance is necessary. Why silence protects the flock.’ The first man continued.

‘Does it?’ I asked quietly.

That unsettled them thoroughly. They started whispering. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my Bible. Even though my hands were steady, my stomach was not. I had not eaten properly in days, but then, hunger sharpened clarity.

‘Matthew eighteen,’ I said while flipping pages. ‘It says,“If anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in Me to stumble, it would be better for them to have a millstone hung around their neck and be drowned in the depths of the sea”.’

I looked at them one by one.

‘You are worried about scandal,’ I continued. ‘Christ was worried about harm.’

One of them cleared his throat.

‘That passage concerns deliberate corruption.’

‘So does this,’ I replied, already turning more pages. ‘Isaiah one. “Stop bringing meaningless offerings. Seek justice. Defend the oppressed”.’

Silence. No more whispering. Another tried a different angle.

‘You are allowing emotion to cloud discernment.’

I smiled faintly. ‘Then explain Jesus.’

They frowned.

‘John eleven, “Jesus wept”. He did not remain distant from suffering to preserve authority. He entered it.’ I retorted.

A third, sharper voice cut in. ‘You are confusing compassion with indulgence.’

‘No! You are confusing control with holiness.’ I snapped.

A murmur rippled. I leaned forward slightly.

‘James one. “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress”. Not to manage optics. Not to silence victims. Distress.’

One man bristled. ‘You are accusing us.’

‘I am holding you to the same Scripture you taught me,’ I spat. ‘And my father.’

They tried again. ‘You have vows.’

‘I have conscience.’

They flipped pages faster, like swords drawn too late.

‘First Corinthians seven, “The unmarried man is concerned about the Lord’s affairs”.’ Someone triumphantly added.

Challenge accepted. I nodded. ‘Finish the verse.’

He hesitated. Looked around for back up and they were all too stunned to speak. I finished it for him.

‘“But the married man is concerned about the affairs of this world, how he can please his wife, and his interests are divided”.’

I looked around the room.

‘Paul is not condemning love. He is describing tension. Tension does not equal sin.’

They did not like that.

‘You are not married,’ one snapped.

‘No. I am not. Which makes this even more troubling. Because I am being told to treat a woman’s suffering as disposable in order to preserve my usefulness.’

My voice remained calm, but something inside me was burning.

‘In Luke ten, The Good Samaritan did not cross the road to preserve religious purity. The priest did.’ 

No one spoke. I pressed on with my heart pounding wildly.

‘You quote obedience, but Acts five says, “We must obey God rather than men.”’ I keep on spitting. I felt unstoppable.

One of them stood. ‘You are dangerously close to rebellion.’

I met his gaze without flinching.

‘Christ was executed for rebellion. Against misuse of law. Against men who loved power more than people.’ I said.

The room felt smaller by the second. My appetite for serving here was gone. My reverence for this space was cracking.

‘I am not asking permission to sin. I am refusing to sin by omission.’

They said nothing.

‘If your theology requires a woman to be sacrificed so that I may remain palatable, then your theology is not Christ’s.’ I said with finality.

Thank the Lord there was no thunder from the heavens to condemn me. Just judgmental silence from the congregation. I closed my Bible slowly.

‘I will step back from my duties for now,’ I announced. There were whispers but no one was courageous enough to stop me anymore.

‘I refuse to pretend agreement where there is none.’

One of them whispered, ‘Think carefully.’

I nodded. ‘I have.’

I walked out. I was no longer hungry for what they were offering. Their approval didn’t matter anymore. Not their protection. Not their version of the Holy Bible.

Since I had tasted truth, I could not go back to a diet of silence.