Matt's Sabbatical
by Tammy Drennan bzpbooks@bellsouth.net
 

Jake and Maggie had no sooner entered the mall than Jake spotted Matt sitting in the food court, looking alone and forlorn. Jake waved. “Yo, Matt!”

Matt glanced up but didn’t smile. Jake and Maggie wrestled the crowd and joined him at his tiny round table. It was built for two, so three was definitely a crowd.

“You look down,” Maggie commented.

Matt shook his head. “I’m on sabbatical. I’m trying to figure it all out.”

“Sabbatical?” Maggie and Jake asked it at the same time.

“Yeah, man,” Matt said and started sipping his super-sized soda. When he didn’t continue, Maggie asked, “Wanna talk about it?”

Matt leaned back in his chair, almost far enough to fall over. “Okay, man. It’s like this. We’re at church last Sunday night. I mean me and my parents and the sisters.” Matt had three younger sisters.

“It’s late and I wanna get home, but my dad is in this heated debate with Mr. Morris. I’m hanging out, but that gets old, so I mosey over to them — just in time to hear my dad say, ‘My kids go to public school not only as students but as missionaries. They’re salt and light.’”

Matt leaned back into the table and worked his straw around in his cup. “So I’m thinking — What? I’ve been in school for, like, eleven years and he never even told me I’m a missionary? What’s that all about?”

Jake laughed. “Maybe you’re overreacting, Matt. Your dad probably didn’t mean that literally. He just meant you’re supposed to, you know, act like a Christian even when you’re pressured to do something wrong.”

“No, no,” Matt insisted. “You would’ve had to hear him. Mr. Morris told him he was just making that up to excuse himself for choosing a free state school instead of a private school, and my dad almost hit the roof. He said how dare Mr. Morris judge his spiritual motives in raising his kids.”

Maggie let out a deep breath. “Whoa, that does sound serious.”

“So,” Matt continued, “I’m trying to figure this out. My dad sends me to school to be a missionary, but he doesn’t even tell me. It’s like he sends me to some third world country and says ‘Learn what they have to teach you,’ and he also wants me to teach them about my religion but he forgets to tell me. So I’m over there learning all about their gods and sacrifices and how to fight the tribe next door... whatever... and I come home on weekends and go to church with the fam... you know, transporters, and all —“

“You do know you have an overactive imagination,” Jake interrupted, rolling his eyes. Maggie kicked him under the table and gave him a look that shut him up. Then she nodded at Matt to continue.

“Anyway,” Matt said. “I figure if I’m a missionary, summer vacation is a sabbatical and that’s a time to take stock of yourself and figure out what’s next. I’m in this, like, twilight zone. I don’t know who I am anymore. Am I Matt the Student, trying to pass chemistry and get into a decent college? Or am I Matt the Missionary? I guess I’m both, but I only knew about one of me.”

Jake couldn’t help it and rolled his eyes again, and Maggie kicked him again. “Why don’t you talk to your dad?” Maggie asked.

“Oh, I started to — on the way home from church. But he shot me that Don’t-Say-a-Word look, and I can take a hint.”

“He was probably still upset after his confrontation with Mr. Morris,” Maggie said. “Why don’t you try tonight?”

Matt sucked the last of his soda from his monster cup. “Yeah, I might.” But he wasn’t ready to let it go and plunged into another diatribe. “So, are my sisters missionaries, too? I mean they’re just little kids. Should I tell them or let them learn it the hard way like I did? Should I, like, hold some classes for them, give them some training? Don’t missionaries get training?”

Jake rubbed his temples. “You’re giving me a headache,” he said. But Maggie tried to sympathize. “Matt, we all know our parents want us to live right and resist peer pressure in school. Maybe you are overreacting just a bit.”

“Then why did my dad say specifically that he sent us to school as missionaries? Does that mean we have a mission or not? Does it mean we have a specific job to do or not? Does it just mean that he hopes we’ll do good and that other kids will notice and ask us why we don’t do what they do? Is it, like, a passive missionary thing where we just get sent out without knowing what the deal is and he hopes for the best? Or did he have something special in mind? Does he know the conditions of the mission field? Has he prepared us in any way? What’s the deal?”

Jake shook his head. “If you keep this up, you’re gonna need to see a shrink.”

But Matt still wasn’t finished. “Last week, we had four missionaries speak at our church. Every one of them talked about preparing for the field, all the help and encouragement they got from their supporters, how they renewed themselves on sabbatical. Plus, they all felt called by God. Was I called? Did God call me through my dad and he just forgot to tell me?”

The group was beginning to draw stares from passersby, and Jake shifted uncomfortably. “Calm down, man. Maybe we should talk somewhere else.”

Matt ignored him. “I mean, are kids called — without knowing it? Does God just tell the parents and they decide whether or not to tell the kids? Are all kids called and parents are ignoring the call when they put their kids in private school? Is this God’s plan for evangelizing the world? Get all the kids together in state schools then the Christian kids will be missionaries. Maybe it’s really the parents who are called and they’re just foisting the job onto us.”

Maggie reached across the table and placed her hand on Matt’s arm. “Matt, don’t you think you should talk to your dad before you try to figure it out anymore?”

Matt sighed a deep, exhausted breath. “I want to, but I have to get over this rage first. He sends me out there with the idea that I’m some sort of missionary and eleven years later I learn about it. In eleven years he never once said to me, ‘Son, your mission in life is to use your school experience to reach others with your faith. Son, here’s what you’ll face and here’s how to be strong. Here’s how to reach other students. Here’s how to reach teachers. Here’s how to tell whether what you’re learning is true or not. Here’s how I know that this is God’s plan for your life.’” 

Matt heaved one more deep breath. “And in all those years, has he ever asked me how it’s going, if any souls have been saved, if I was making any progress in my mission, if I had any converts who had joined me in my mission? Did he ever ask if I needed anything — literature, Bibles, a place to hold a Bible study?”

Jake was standing now. “I think we better move this outside,” he said. Maggie urged Matt to come along. She picked up his empty cup and he followed.

Dusk had settled in the parking lot, the air had cooled and a soft breeze blew. Matt seemed to have spent his anger. He even took off his baseball cap and shook his shaggy hair in the wind.

“Sorry I vented on you two like that,” he said a bit sheepishly.

“Hey, what are friends for?” Maggie said. “What are you going to do now?”

“Well,” Matt said. “Like I said, I’m on sabbatical, but I need some better answers if I’m going to figure out where to go from here. So, you’re right, Maggie — I need to talk to my dad. Thanks, you guys. You’re great.”

Maggie squeezed Matt’s arm as the parted.

Jake was uncharacteristically quiet on the way home. Finally Maggie asked if he was okay. “I was just thinking,” he said, “that in a way Matt’s lucky. At least he has a starting point for a talk with his dad. I mean, now I’d kind of like to know why my parents send me to public school. But somehow I can’t see asking, you know? I think it might make them mad — like it made Matt’s dad mad. But I sure would like to know...”

Maggie nodded. “I know,” she sighed. “I know what you mean.”