Missing Actions
"Where will your journey take you now?" Fr. Wingert asked gently steering the conversation to more serious matters.
"I don't know for sure," John answered thoughtfully. "At one point in India I felt like I wanted to change the world. I think the orphanage, you know, helping out there, made me think that."
"You can't change the world, John, only yourself. That, in turn, will change the world."
John sat in silence for a moment letting the words sink into his mind. He studied his folded hands and repeated the words to himself.
"Yeah, being in jail kind of changes my feelings on that dream," John said.
Fr. Wingert sighed and folded his hands on the aged, green table. Then he looked intently into John's eyes.
"Most great religious leaders have spent time in jails, prisons, or chains. All were willing to die for their beliefs. So, you're in good company."
"Am I a religious leader?" John chuckled. "I thought I was a prisoner."
"Maybe you're both," Fr. Wingert answered.
"I'm a prisoner," John said flatly. "I'm not a religious leader."
Fr. Wingert ignored John's response and leaned closer.
"Many of them brought about great changes through their own persecution, Gandhi, Jesus, St. Paul, Mohammed, Joan of Arc. Believing in something is only the first step. Then comes questioning, testing, and usually a trial of some kind. Perhaps it's a trial of the spirit. And the only thing to see you through that trial is the power of your belief. Your trial requires you to have faith in yourself and in something bigger than yourself."
Fr. Wingert searched John's eyes for a spark of understanding. He mentally prayed for guidance in his discussion with John.
"So that belief, that faith, is the first gift and the final test?" John asked.
"That's a good way to put it." Fr. Wingert smiled. "I can sit here and quote scripture and other great religious texts about how 'blessed are the peace makers' and 'blessed are those who suffer persecution for justice's sake'. And you don't have to look very far to see how strong personal beliefs have threatened to uproot societies and governments. There's a lot of potential power in your beliefs."
"I wonder what kind of quest I'm on," John said.
"Maybe it's a great quest because you've paid a great price to pursue it."
"Will I get there?" John asked.
"I don't know. What obstacles do you see?"
After a minute of thought John said, "I need to accept myself. I need to forgive others, especially my father. I need to find a center in my life. I think Julie's that center."
"She may be part of it," Fr. Wingert said. "Maybe she reflects the goodness in you, the potential for goodness."
"Right now I'm so angry about the way things have turned out." John stared down at the table.
"Look at what's ahead of you," Fr. Wingert lifted his hands, palms up, for emphasis. "This is part of your test. See if you can use that anger. Transform it into determination. I've counseled many people who stood at the crossroads of anger and hope. Only you can decide whether love or fear will rule your actions, whether you choose the role of victim or victor. The victim's role makes it easier to hide under the alcohol or the anger as the years go by."
"Sounds like my father," John interjected.
"Then let him be one of your teachers. Let his life guide you. A lot of good can come out of the worst situations. I see it all the time."
Fr. Wingert bowed his head for a moment as if in silent prayer before he continued.
"This prison may be your crossroads, John. It can turn out to be one of the best things that ever happened to you. That choice is yours. Realizing and acting on your own potential is one of the greatest, most powerful times of your life."
"How can I see that?" John asked.
"Prayer, meditation, searching and reading," Fr. Wingert answered. "Try to accept your innate goodness in a world that does its best to convince you otherwise."
Over the next few months with Fr. Wingert as his guide John made the slow and arduous climb as an abandoned son and dishonored soldier to the higher levels of forgiveness and reconciliation. He helped John to channel his suffering into compassion and his anger into determination
Father wanted John to enter the new life that was waiting for him outside the walls as a healed and whole person. He prayed that John and his two friends would give goodness back to the world even though they could find enough reasons not to. He owed Julie and John that much. The thought did not escape John that he was still being helped on his journey by the holy ones, just as he had been in south Asia.
By the time John left prison he had been stripped of all his rank and honors. His pay had been forfeited to offset the cost of his pursuit and return. He found it interesting that the honors they took from him played a deciding factor in his early release from prison. As he walked out of the front gate into the outstretched arms of his future wife, John thought it had been a good trade. He had lost his rank, his medals and his paycheck. But he had Julie, an uncomplicated future, a trusted teacher, his values intact and, not the least, his freedom.
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