Oct 1, 2009

Covenant Stories: The Passion of Steven

Before reading this story you should read "The Advent of Steven" from last week.

I don’t know how the Kramers found our church. We’re off the beaten path and we don’t advertise. Maybe it was God; I don’t know. Jennifer was only 19 and David was 20, but they already looked beaten, worn, and creased. They were rough in speech and manner. He worked construction and she worked off and on at the 7-11. David Jr. was three and little Stacy was 7 weeks old. It was like meeting the people you see on “COPS”. One night Jennifer punched her mother in the nose. David was outraged because she was holding the baby at the time. He felt that any decent mother would have put the child down first. David was having his own troubles as he maintained a shaky sobriety. The last time Jim Beam got the best of him, he fought the police officer who responded to the neighbor's call. They had to pry David Jr. off his leg before they could take him away to jail.

About a month after the Kramers started coming to church we were gathered together for our Wednesday night meal. Everyone was sitting around the tables chatting after supper when we heard a terrible scream down the hall.

The first thing I saw was Lyle and Cathy running toward JoAnn, one of our deacons, who was carrying Steven into the kitchen. Steven was screaming in pain, and there was something in the scream that made every parent stop talking. We knew it was something serious. We all jumped up and crowded into the kitchen. Cathy pulled up Steven’s shirt and everyone fell silent. On his back were eight vicious bites, two rows of four oval wounds. The skin was broken and oozing blood. Angry, red welts were rising around the teeth marks.

When something terrible happens, there is a moment when horror borders on disbelief. You see something horrible with your eyes, but your mind can’t take in the information. That’s how we were that night. Some threw up their hands and said, “No no no no,” as if they could make it go away by denying it. The terrible ugliness of what we were seeing made us squint. We mouthed words but made no sounds.

JoAnn found them in one of the Sunday school rooms. David Jr. dragged Steven to the ground and was growling as he bit him over and over. Innocent little Steven, only 2-years-old, didn't even know how to struggle. He was bitten 14 times, each one drawing blood. He had bites on his back, arms, and head.

As everyone fussed over Steven, David Jr. walked into the kitchen and watched with an innocent and unconcerned expression. I stared at him in wonder. How can a 3-year-old have such rage? How can his anger come and go so quickly? Where did he learn to bite like that?

David and Jennifer came rushing around the corner and immediately saw what had happened. Jennifer cried out, "Oh my God, not again. David!" Then she ran out of the church, crying hysterically.

Later I would discover this was not the first time David Jr. had bitten someone at church. The Kramer family had developed a tragic pattern. They would find a church they liked, and then David Jr. would bite a child. They would leave in shame and find another church. They should have warned us, but they were young and foolish. Their denial about their son was only one of the ways they were out of touch with reality.

David picked up his son and pleaded his apologies. As he edged toward the door he kept saying the same thing over and over. “I’m sorry. He knows better. I’m sorry. He knows better.” Tossing one final “I’m sorry” over his shoulder, David ran out the door. I followed him and found Jennifer in the parking lot talking with Michael, another one of our deacons. He was trying to keep her from leaving, but she had a crazy look in her eyes and she was edging toward their battered pick-up truck.

I could tell they wanted to leave. Who could blame them? To be honest, I was hoping they WOULD leave. I was in such shock. I was trying to be nice, but I was so angry and so sad all at once.

Then the front door of the church banged open and Cathy burst out. She ran toward Jennifer who froze and whispered, "Oh my God". As Cathy approached, Jennifer lowered her eyes and began to weep and apologize. “I’m so sorry. My God, I’m so sorry.”

Cathy didn't say anything at first. Then she put her left hand on Jennifer’s shoulder and her right hand under her chin. She lifted Jennifer’s face and spoke in a very soft, but firm voice. “Stop.”

"Listen to me", she said. "Steven is going to be fine. He will heal, and he will get over this. I’m not worried about Steven. Do you know what does worry me?"

Jennifer shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I'm worried that you and David will be so embarrassed about this that you will never come back to our church. That’s the only thing that worries me. We've come to love your family, and you need to be here with us. You need to be in church, and I want you to promise me that you'll come back THIS Sunday."

Jennifer didn’t answer her. I don’t think she could, really. She did what felt right. She melted into Cathy’s arms, sobbing. There was something different about the way she was crying, too. It was sad crying, but not as crazy and not as lonely as before. They stayed like that for a long time, two mothers holding each other in the parking lot. Two mothers crying for their sons.

I watched in awe and had the strangest impulse to take off my shoes.

It’s one thing to read about Christ in Bibles and books. It’s quite another thing to meet Christ in person. Quite another thing. Cathy’s immediate love and concern for this family while her son lay bleeding in the church might be the closest thing to Jesus that I’ve seen in this broken world.

I will never forget the sight of the wounds on Steven’s little back. They were a stark reminder of the reality of evil and the high price of redemption. Nor will I forget the sight of those two mothers, in each other’s arms, crying from grief and from the power of forgiveness given and received. Behold the power of Christ’s sacrificial love when it is born incarnate into the lives of those who claim his name.

I said that the day Steven first came to our church was a good day. And it was. Strangely enough, I believe the day he was wounded was a good day as well. It was a costly and painful day, but it was a day when goodness triumphed in the end with a grace that no evil could overshadow or defeat.

Gordon Atkinson

Postscript: The names of the Kramer family have been changed for obvious reasons. The Kramers stayed at our church for maybe a year after this. David put the roof on our second building. It was his way of saying thanks. One day I went up on the roof to help him. While we were working he said, "You remember that time David Jr. bit that little boy all up?"

"Yes," I said.

"Well, we preciate this church and how this church has done by us."

Unfortunately, their marriage fell apart when David lost control of his drinking again. They left Covenant and never returned.