I don’t think you understand, he said. These beliefs. Simple.

Right. The boy told the minister.

He took down a Bible from his bookshelf. He turned the pages. Mathew, Mark, Luke, and John. The preacher had verses marked in yellow and orange highlights. He closed it and held the holy book in his right hand.

Thousands of years, the reverend said. Thousands. He got up from behind his desk. Wars over its truth. People misinterpreted the book. Religions started. False religions, he told the teen. Folks calling themselves Christians who aren’t really Christian. You follow? The youngster sat in silence. He did not move a muscle. Just sat in the red velvet chair that swiveled. The boy began to move his legs a bit from side to side. Nervously.

Do I have your attention? The minister asked. Do you grasp what I’m saying?

The kid shook his head. No, he said. No, I do not.

Presidents place their right hands on this book and take an oath. It is holy. It means something. Christ is trying to save your soul through me and the Bible. He is speaking to you right now. Do you accept him as your lord and savior?

The boy looked at him. Looked at the man hovering above him. Can I think about it? Does this decision have to be made today? In this instant? Because I can’t do that.

Why not?

Blind faith. I believe what I see. Not what I hear or read. Could be fiction. Stories written by men. Old Testament. New Testament. The Koran. Who’s to say?

God. The preacher man said with his hands trembling. God says.

The boy swiveled around in his chair and faced the minister. God left the building a long time ago.