8/15/15
Sixteen year old Jim’s transfer to a new boarding school cut the final ties to his former life. He was now a ship adrift without anchor or heading. A tragic automobile accident had left him orphaned, with no near relatives who could help. His former school was unwilling to keep him enrolled once no one was paying the tuition. So here he was, a charity case in a church-run school, so overwhelmed by all the changes that he hadn’t yet resolved his grief.
The new school was located in the Scottish Highlands just outside a historical village. It was an old rambling compound which looked like the setting of a Sherlock Holmes tale. During Jim’s orientation upon first arriving, the headmaster, Dr. Saltzman, emphasized the necessity of adherence to all the principles of the Church of Scotland and to any instructions given by Reverend Fleming. If he failed to diligently apply himself to every requirement, the school would expel him with a referral to the military induction office.
Ernst, another recently arrived student, was likewise having difficulty adjusting to these constraints. He quickly identified the weak points of the school’s monitoring system and could avoid the teachers and student prefects who patrolled for would-be shirkers. He soon ditched every chapel assembly and vespers with ease. Jim noted Ernst’s technique and availed himself of it when he needed time alone.
Jim discovered an obscured hiking trail beyond the athletic fields. It led through dense forest until emerging on an escarpment overlooking a river some distance below. He liked sitting against a tree and gazing out over the mountains as the breeze swept his cares away like the boats on the river. The solitude allowed him to open a secret place in his soul and spend time with his father and mother again.
Initially his one-sided conversations with them were recriminations for not driving more carefully and thus disrupting his life. But gradually he shifted blame for the event to God so he could find peace with his parents.
Although still developing, Jim was nearly six feet tall and well built. If he continued working at it, as he had before the accident, he would become a muscular man. Yet, Ernst had him beat. He stood well over six feet and his powerful physique intimidated even the older students. Yet his walk was silent and graceful, almost effeminate.
One Sunday afternoon Jim and Ernst were having lunch together in the dining hall, talking quietly so as not to be overheard.
“Did you really stay for the whole service?” asked Ernst.
“I had to,” answered Jim. “When you slipped out, the movement must have caught Saltzman’s eye because he looked straight at me before I could follow you. He then kept watching me through the reverend’s entire sermon. Hey! Quit laughing. Next time I get to leave first!”
“So, what did the old vicar go on about this time? ‘You only live once’; ‘live and let live’; or what?”
“No, he was warning about the dangers of too much gold. That even people who seem to have the Midas touch eventually come to a bad end.”
“Ha! I’ll bet if he ever came across any gold he’d keep it. Hey, once we’re done here, come up to my room. I pinched a bottle of lager from the teachers’ break room. I’ll share with you.”
But before Jim could respond a student prefect rushed over and told Jim he was wanted in the headmaster’s office right away. Ernst laughed at Jim as he hurried off.
Dr. Saltzman motioned to the seat in front of his desk. Its padded leather was cracking, and at one corner the batting was already poking out. The headmaster sat without speaking for so long that Jim wondered if he was expected to talk first. At length the headmaster reached for a large envelope on his desk and picked up a gold chain with an unusual cross attached, then he handed it to Jim.
Jim examined it briefly. “What’s this? A crucifix, or something?”
“No,” said Dr. Saltzman with a slightly exasperated tone. “A crucifix would have a figure of Christ on it. That is a cross.”
“It looks different than ones I’ve seen before.”
“Of course. It’s a Scottish cross. That, along with a letter, arrived for you yesterday. They’re from the lawyer who handled your father’s affairs. What I understand is there was no money left, no property or any other assets, once all the creditors and obligations had been paid. But your father did leave you this single item, and as a family heirloom it couldn’t be taken to settle his debts. If the story is correct, that’s a priceless artifact. ”
“What story?”
“I’ll give it to you and you can read it at your leisure. But in brief, the letter is from your father, written while you were still an infant. It tells how that object has been passed from father to son for more than 350 years. It seems your lineage can be traced back to John Knox, and that cross was once his.”
“John who?”
“My God, boy! John Knox! Don’t you even know the name of Scotland’s greatest evangelist? The father of the Scottish Reformation? Your ancestor, for Christ’s sake!”
“Oh. So, what do I …?”
“Take that letter back to your dormitory and read it. Then go to the library and look up your relative. If you’d like me to look after that for you, I will. But if you take it with you, guard it carefully. It’s the most valuable thing you’ll ever have.”
As Jim left the office he heard the headmaster mutter softly to himself, “Lord, forgive me for putting such a treasure into the hands of one such as him.”
A few days later Ernst plopped down beside Jim during supper and asked, “Hey, Jimmy. What’s up?”
“I’d like to be called James from now on, please,” said Jim.
“Oh, going formal now, are we? That’s what comes of meeting the headmaster. Hey, I nicked some sherry from the kitchen. Come to my room and spill what you’ve been up to the past few days.”
“It’s nothing special. Just doing some extra studies with the reverend.”
“Ooh, first the headmaster and now the reverend. Trying to make new friends, I see.”
“No. It’s just that I volunteered to lead the scripture reading this Sunday and I needed some coaching.” Then seeing that Ernst wasn’t going to stop laughing, Jim left the table and returned to his room.
Jim subsequently saw less of his friend as he became increasingly involved with chapel activities. He soon was leading the singing, assisting with communions, and occasionally reading homilies during vesper services. He felt teaching others helped him to learn more quickly himself.
Plus, he found these previously unknown metaphysical concepts immensely gratifying. He was now understanding much that had puzzled him before about the nature of the universe and the importance of life. He was also reconciling with the losses he’d suffered.
So it came about that one day he found himself discussing with the reverend the possibility of attending a seminary once he finished his secondary education. Although the reverend was sure of Jim’s latent ministerial abilities, Jim was unwilling to make such a weighty commitment yet. He suggested instead that he just continue helping until he became more versed in religious affairs. The reverend accepted this for the present, with the provision that they discuss it further before long.
Jim smiled to himself as he left the reverend’s study and walked back to the classroom building. He wondered how Ernst would react to the idea of him becoming a minister. He never got the chance to find out.
The main hall was full of commotion and the reason was quickly apparent. Military recruiters were there screening everyone older than sixteen. Before he could duck back out the door he was caught by the arm and led into a side room for an interview.
“I see by your file that you’re an orphan,” said the sergeant at the desk. “The Royal Navy has a great program for young men like you. After basic training you receive a top-notch college education; better than you could get on your own. You then try out for Special Services. If you prove yourself, as it appears you could, you’ll be given loads of exciting missions serving Queen and country.”
“Thank you, sir,” answered Jim. “But I think I may be going to the seminary instead.”
“The seminary? Oh. Well, that let’s you out, doesn’t it? Okay then, tell the guard at the door to send in the next one.”
Jim quickly left the building, then asked one of the other boys if he’d seen Ernst around. The boy’s eyes widened and a smile spread across his face.
“Didn’t you hear?” said the boy. “A couple of days ago the headmaster caught him coming to class drunk and told him he was to be expelled. Some of the guys say that’s why the recruiters are here today. But Ernst didn’t wait around. He stole the headmaster’s passport and some money, then ran away. The latest report is that the passport has turned up in Poland. They think Ernst may have relatives there.”
A few days later Jim was summoned to the office and found the headmaster and the reverend waiting. The headmaster didn’t have his customary scowl and the reverend was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Jim sat on the edge of the chair and held his breath.
“Well, James, you had a close call the other day,” said Reverend Fleming. “Those recruiters don’t like to be turned down. It seems you found the only excuse they accept. So to prevent any future derailing of your career I took the liberty of obtaining a credential for you.”
Jim reached for the paper being held out. He puzzled over it several moments then looked at the two men. “What is this? What does it mean?”
“It’s a beginner’s ministerial license,” said Reverend Fleming. “It’s only good for our parish since it’s issued by our local Oratory Office rather than the General Assembly. But it’s enough to validate your work for me, and to ensure admission to the seminary when the time comes.”
“Yes, son,” said Dr. Saltzman. “I admit I had doubts about you when you first came to us. But ever since receiving your inheritance you’ve really matured. We’re both proud of you. I believe it won’t be long before you become a great evangelist in your own right, just like your forebear.”
Jim
looked again at the document in his hands. James Bond,
Apprentice Minister. Permit # O.O.-7.
He smiled broadly, “So, a license to save souls? How inspiring!”
COPYRIGHT PROTECTED
