Jeremiah didn’t mind the wait. The walk to Dean Immerson’s office had worn him out. The Saturday after the beating was bad. Sunday was the worst. Every nerve end burned, every muscle froze in fear of moving and causing the nerves to flare up even more.
His speech at the student center as well as the attack that followed had already become legend, an out of control myth. Rumors added their own flourish to the story, amateur painters embellishing the creator’s work with brushstrokes that weren’t in the original. Jeremiah had heard a few stories. The rest he imagined.
Heads turned when he arrived outside the Dean’s office but quickly pivoted away as though they didn’t want to add to or enter his shame. He picked up the Christian Sentinel and thumbed through its pages. An article on the apostasy of the northern nation caught his eye. It outlined the events which led to the nation’s downfall and subsequent takeover by the still growing Russian empire. Ample space was devoted to the sins of the leaders and why the same could never happen in the Atlantic States. Jeremiah grimaced. A thick veil had already begun to descend over the people, blinding their eyes and darkening their hearts, not necessarily in that order.
“He’s ready for you.”
Jeremiah replaced the magazine and mouthed a quick thank you to the assistant. The door opened with a faint creak, and he stepped inside. Dean Immerson sat behind a polished wooden desk, carved from Virginia walnut with rosewood accents, not the impersonal, industrial desk, which barricaded the assistant from the students. A photo of him smiling beside President Josiah hung in a place of honor along the near wall.
“Have a seat,” Immerson said without looking up from the computer screen. Fingers gnarled from neither age nor the effects of manual labor tapped away at the keyboard. A pair of circular lenses perched on either side of his nose. “Just got to get this letter out to the president.”
The typing went on for so long that Jeremiah began to wonder why he had been called in. With each moment that passed, more moisture accumulated on the tops of his thighs where his hands rested. He wiped his palms on the edge of the chair.
“Thank you for coming by,” Immerson said, clicking one last button. “How are you holding up?”
“Fine, all things considered.”
“That’s good. Did you go to the hospital to get yourself checked out?”
“Not yet,” Jeremiah said. “I’ll go if things get worse. By the way, thanks for seeing me, Dean Immerson.”
“Call me Pashur, if you’d like,” he said, feigned humility poorly camouflaging his contempt for the disruption. “I want all my students to feel comfortable, that my office is a safe place for them.”
“I’d prefer Dean Immerson for now,” Jeremiah said.
“As you wish. So, why are we here today?”
“I’m not sure. You called me to your office.”
“And do you know why I called you in?”
“I assume it has to do with the assault.”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.”
Jeremiah stared at Immerson’s retreating hairline, speckled with streaks of gray.
“Why don’t you begin by telling me your side of the story.”
The comment, or perhaps the tone, caught him off guard. “I’m not sure there is my side of the story,” Jeremiah said. “Just the story.”
“I’d like to hear it anyway.”
“Friday night, I was walking behind the science building. Someone hit me from behind and knocked me down. At first, I thought they were going to rob me, but the guys didn’t end up taking anything. One of them whipped me pretty good while the other two watched. From what I remember, they were trying to stop him.”
“And why did he do that? The one that whipped you.”
“What I said at the student center didn’t sit right with him.”
“Right. The student center. We’ll circle back to that in a bit.” Dean Immerson made some notes on a yellow pad. “Just to confirm, you said someone hit you from behind and then beat you. Do I have that correct?”
“Yes.”
“And it wasn’t you who attacked the three guys while they walked behind the science building?”
“I don’t follow.”
“I think my question was clear. You weren’t the one who initiated the assault?”
“Where’s that coming from?” Jeremiah asked.
“A couple of witnesses came forth. That’s all I can say for now, so if you don’t mind, would you answer the question?”
Jeremiah scoffed. Disbelief wagged his head back and forth. “Does it look like I’m someone who would be stupid enough to attack anyone? I couldn’t finish ten pushups without resting a few times, and I’m going to take on three guys who probably spend more time in the gym than they do in class.”
Immerson peered over the top of his rims. “That could be why you picked up the board in the first place.”
“Except, that never happened.”
“Do you have any witnesses who can back up your testimony?”
“Testimony? Am I on trial here?”
“No. Of course not. I’m simply gathering facts.”
“The fact is, I was jumped from behind by three guys.”
“Then, you’re saying you have no witnesses who can back you up?”
“Other than the bruises all over my body including the back of my neck? No.”
Immerson scribbled some more. “For the sake of argument, let’s assume your version is the correct one. Are you willing to take responsibility for your part?”
“What part is that?”
“How you stirred people up, insulted them. That’s not who we are at Annandale. We believe in kindness, respect. We tolerate each other, not acting as though we’re perfect ourselves. We certainly don’t go around judging people’s lifestyles or cursing them in public or condemning women who have made private choices for their own personal reasons. Not without pulling out the plank in our own eyes first, shall we say?”
“I only said what God told me to say.”
“I’m sure God didn’t tell you to say any of that. God is not a God of judgment, of condemnation. He’s a God of mercy and love and forgiveness. The God of the New Testament, not the God of the Old. Your words, which may have had their place in ancient times, don’t have a home here.”
The anger intensified in Jeremiah’s heart. The initial shock of the accusation had worn off, the intimidation gone. Disgust formed the words which fell from his lips.
“God doesn’t change. He’s the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Yes, he’s a God of love and mercy but also of righteousness and judgment. To discount any of his characteristics is to belittle him, to be ignorant of who he is. With all due respect, Dean Immerson, we are a sinful campus, a sinful people. He has promised to send his judgment on his, a judgment we deserve. Horror beyond anything you can imagine is coming our way. Our only hope is to repent. Our only chance is to bow before him and beg forgiveness. If we turn from our evil, from worshiping idols and false gods and stop following after the lusts of our eyes, maybe he will relent of that which he has in store.”
Immerson paused and rubbed his lips. When he finally opened his mouth, he spoke in measured, deliberate terms.
“Your words have no merit,” he said, “and show that you don’t really speak for God. We are not an evil nation but a godly, Christian nation. We take care of orphans, feed the poor, love people, wherever they’re at, without judgment. These are the fruits by which you may know our hearts. Our hearts have not turned from God as you imply, nor do we worship idols. I mean, I certainly haven’t seen any people bowing before statues lately. Have you? No, we are not an evil people. In fact, I thank God every morning that we are not like the rest of the nations, unloving, greedy, selfish, intolerant. Not like our brothers to the north. That’s my daily prayer of thanksgiving, and he hears it. He sees who we are, the integrity of our hearts, and rewards us, repays us with more than we could ever want. Like the beautiful new student center where you foolishly spat out false words that God never told you to speak. Would God have given that to us if we were an evil campus?”
Dean Immerson watched Jeremiah’s face flush. “Look, Jeremiah. The boys you attacked wanted me to have you expelled. Quite honestly, they made a good case, and I considered doing just that. But out of respect for your father, who is an old friend, I’m going to let you off with an official reprimand. It will go on your permanent record, but I will expunge it on the condition that there are no more incidents before you graduate.”
Jeremiah grit his teeth. “You’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing, guarding the flock and waiting for the shepherd to turn his head. But his eyes are always on you, you snake, you deceiver of the people.”
“You know, son, you might want to watch your words, or I might reconsider removing you from campus after all.” Dean Immerson arched his eyebrows and turned back to the computer. The keys soon began to click again. “You’re dismissed,” he said without looking up.
The door creaked open, and Jeremiah walked in silence towards the exit. Eyes watched as he passed by. Whispers followed him out the door.