The Bride Experiment (16 page)

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Authors: Mimi Jefferson

BOOK: The Bride Experiment
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Chapter 29
All of the men with Pastor Benjy were visibly nervous. The plane had landed. They were in Mexico City, but there was some type of delay with the arrival of the pastors who were set to meet them as soon as they deplaned.
Pastor Benjy seemed the least affected. He instructed the men to gather their things and wait outside. They obeyed at once. James followed behind at a distance. There seemed to be some type of hierarchy in the bunch. Pastor Benjy was at the top, and Kenneth was his right-hand man. The other men followed in line, appearing to be from the oldest to the youngest.
Now that they were outside, James expected the weather in Mexico to be pleasant. On this day, it had to be over ninety degrees, though. Growing up in Houston had prepared him; the heat wasn't unbearable, especially since the air was thankfully free of humidity.
The idle chatter ended when the sun started to descend. One minute, the lights around them in the various businesses were on, and now they were being turned off. The silence ended when a man named Victor was the first to spot the bus. It was hard to tell who was the most excited. The men on the ground were jumping up and down and yelling. The men on the bus were doing the same, only seated.
When the Mexican pastors finally ran off the bus, they each were clearly looking for a specific member of Pastor Benjy's group. Pastor Gonzales found Kenneth and hugged him, long and hard, like they were brothers who had been lost for years, feared dead, only to return to each other, safe and sound. Kenneth was the first to gain his composure enough to speak.
James was trying to remember if he had ever seen such an outpouring of emotion between men, when Pastor Gonzales attempted to hug him. James took two steps back and extended his hand.
“Let's pray,” Pastor Benjy said. The men held hands and formed a big circle. Many of them were weeping happily. James stood near the luggage and several feet away from the circle. There was no way he was about to hold hands with a bunch of men. The fact that people were walking by and gawking at them made it seem even more awkward.
Pastor Benjy looked proudly around the circle. “Thank you, Lord! Thank you, Lord!”
The men joined in. “Thank you, Lord!”
A couple of the Mexican men had to break away, too excited to stand in the circle and be still. James felt that he must be missing something. These men were acting like a bunch of women.
“It's not like me to cry,” Pastor Benjy said as he wept, “but when I think about what God used us to do in this city, I just can't help it.” Pastor Benjy walked up to one man and then the next. “When we first met José, he was so strung out he couldn't tell us his name. He couldn't have weighed more than a hundred pounds and was living in a cardboard box.”
José dropped to his knees.
“Armando was running his neighborhood's brothel. Marco was going to this very airport every day to steal from unsuspecting tourists. Michael was weak and near death because he was taking more drugs than he was selling. This is a group of former pimps, prostitutes, swindlers, drunkards, murderers, fornicators, adulterers, and everything in between. Thanks be to God and His Son, Jesus Christ.”
The men cheered and repeated after the pastor. “Thanks be to God and His Son, Jesus Christ!”
“When it became aware to me that it was the Lord's will for me to come to Mexico, I didn't think I could do it. I was already consumed with our church back home, the wife, my children, and, of course, my beloved grandchildren. I was exhausted, as it was.
“When I walked off the plane that first time, I was weary and overwhelmed by the task before me. I had no idea on that first trip that this project in Mexico was going to be the highlight of over fifty years in ministry. I didn't know that each time I left Mexico, I would cry tears of sadness, and each time I would return, I would cry tears of happiness.”
Pastor Benjy bowed his head and closed his eyes. The men did the same. “Thank you, Lord, for bringing this group together once again. Thank you, Lord, for a place where men can worship freely. Thank you, Lord, for the amazing friendships, like none we have ever known.
“Because of the unconditional love you have for us, we can be men who freely cry at the sight of the ocean, worship with our hands held high, kiss our sons and our daughters, drop to our knees and pray, and dance if we want to. Oh, how we love you, our Master, our King, our Savior, our Help, our Salvation, our Sufficiency, our Rock, our Redeemer, our Lord.”
With that, the men detached hands and started with the hugging again. James started pacing back and forth around the luggage. This ongoing public display of affection was annoying him. After several more minutes, the men started to get into separate taxis, two by two. Eventually everyone had gone, except for Kenneth and Pastor Gonzales.
“Hey, man,” Kenneth said, looking at James, “I'm sorry to keep you waiting. It's just that, well . . . I love this man.” Kenneth started to walk to the bus that had carried the Mexican pastors to the airport. Kenneth shoved their luggage into the back. “I know it is kind of weird.” He paused for a moment. “Hey, you know, it's just like Jonathan and David.”
“Who?” James asked.
Kenneth looked confused. “You know, King David and Saul's eldest son, Jonathan.”
“Oh, yeah . . . in the Bible,” James said as they were climbing into the van.
“Yeah, that's the type of love the Mexican pastors and the American ministers have for each other. We have the type of deep friendship that is uncommon among men. We are tied together not by our love of sports, women, sex, or money. We are tied together by our love for Jesus.”
“I love this man with a deep love,” Pastor Gonzales said, in reference to Kenneth, as he was navigating through traffic. “He risked his life to preach the Gospel to me. I passed from death to life because he cared enough to be there for me. I come from a wealthy family. We have servants and own vast portions of land. I went to the States and got my college degree. While there, I visited several Christian churches. However, each one that I attended made me more confused than the next. Frustrated, I just did what came naturally. I went to the United States a virgin. I came back anything but that. I thought the best thing in the world was sex on top of more sex. And it was so easy in the United States to get it. Several times, women came looking for me. It was fun for a season, but soon I was longing for something simpler. After I graduated, I came back home to work in my father's company, thinking that would make me happy. Then I found myself looking again for peace in women. I convinced the most beautiful woman I had ever seen to agree to marry me. Surely, that would give me the peace I was seeking. I was looking at her during dinner a few days before our wedding and realized, not only did I not love her, but I didn't even like her. I called off the wedding and ran to the airport. I was too ashamed to face my family. I literally did not know where I was going. I just knew that if this was all life had to it, I would rather pass. I was too scared to kill myself, because I didn't know if I would end up worse off than I was, or what. At the airport, I saw a flyer lying on the floor advertising that an American church was in town. I went, and there is where I met my brother here.” He nodded toward Kenneth.
Kenneth started in. “The day I got saved, I started reading the Bible and finished four months later. On top of that, I started reading biographies of great Christians. I was on fire and wanted to do something big for God. I talked to my then-pastor about it and he had me teach adult Sunday School. It wasn't what I needed. Most of the people in the class were trying to one-up each other with how much more they knew about the Bible. It was frustrating. I wanted to learn and grow, and they wanted to fight over words.
“The singles at my church decided to go on a cruise,” Kenneth continued. “Several churches in the area got together for the cruise. I was excited about having some good clean fun with all my new brothers and sisters in Christ. I had no idea this was nothing more than a major hookup session. There was more sex going on aboard that ship, with so-called Christian singles, than there would have been had it been filled with honeymooners. I told my old pastor what happened on the cruise and he just blew me off. I was devastated and started looking for a new church.”
While they talked, James looked out the window. He had met plenty of people in his past that were Christian hypocrites—which was one reason why he never paid much attention to them. Listening to Kenneth and Pastor Gonzales claim to witness the same things certainly gave him something to think about. He wondered if they were having this conversation for his benefit.
“That search led me to Miller Street Church, where I met Pastor Benjy,” Kenneth said. “He asked me to follow him around that first day. He told me his church wasn't perfect, because it was made up of imperfect people. However, he did believe in following the Word of God at all cost, even if it meant disciplining another member.
“After our talk, we went to an apartment complex, door-to-door, sharing the Gospel. Then we went to a nursing home and prayed for the sick. After that, a group of single men met at his house to pray for the strength to be single and celibate in this sinful world. It was like I was finally home! I joined the church, and a few weeks after that, I was taking my first trip to Mexico.” Kenneth reached out to Pastor Gonzales. “On that trip, I met Pastor G. Only, he wasn't a pastor then.”
“I walked up to him at the end of the service and told him I wanted to know how to be saved,” Pastor Gonzales said. “And not only that, I wanted to know what I needed to do after that—”
Now James was sure they were having this conversation for his benefit. He didn't mind. Pastor Gonzales and Kenneth were more like him than he had expected.
“That's exactly how I was feeling at my old church,” Kenneth interrupted, “like I started the process, but I was failing to move forward. Yes, it is important to be a Christian, but I just didn't want to be somebody who was calling himself a Christian and not acting the part. Yeah, I wanted to walk the walk and talk the talk. I wanted it all, whatever God had for me. I had been sold out in the world, and now I wanted to be sold out for the Lord.
“Hey, Pastor G,” Kenneth said, “you have got to take us to that place that makes that delicious mole.”
Pastor Gonzales laughed heartily. “They close early today, which is why I picked up some this morning.”
“That's what I'm talking about!” Kenneth said, smiling from ear to ear.
James almost smiled too, until he remembered he didn't have anything to smile about.
Chapter 30
So far, his Mexican trip was going nothing like he had imagined. James thought he was going to some rural area where he would see masses of poor people walking around, looking sick, like the infomercials he would flip past while looking for a game to watch.
James was actually looking forward to sleeping underneath the stars and escaping the busyness of the city. But this looked like a major metropolitan city, and Pastor Gonzales had a large upscale apartment, right in the middle of the action, with a washer and dryer, two and a half baths, and three furnished bedrooms.
James quietly stepped out of his bed and walked to the kitchen, hoping he didn't wake up Kenneth or Pastor Gonzales. The smell of coffee and a dim light let him know he wasn't the only one that couldn't sleep.
“You too?” Pastor Gonzales said solemnly while he poured James a cup of coffee.
James sat across from him at a richly adorned wooden table.
“Thanks for letting me stay here.”
“It is my pleasure to help Pastor Benjy. He is a great man of God.”
James sipped his coffee. It had to be the best he had ever tasted. “This is very good.”
“The best in the world. There are two things I like to spoil myself with: fine coffee and fine food.”
James tried to make conversation. “I thought you were about to say women.”
“We just met and we know each other so well.” Pastor Gonzales smiled. “Yes, my friend, before Jesus, there were three things I spoiled myself with.
“Why are you up, anyway?” Pastor Gonzales asked.
So much for sitting and sipping quietly on his coffee, James thought.
“You go first,” James said.
“Tomorrow, our day in the prison, has me concerned. Well, the truth is that I'm a little nervous. I have been reading my scriptures, meditating on the Word, and praying for the last few weeks. I'm still very, very, nervous.” Pastor Gonzales stood up from the table. “I keep telling myself it is perfectly normal to be scared.... I mean, nervous. I mean, we are going to preach the Word. Even the apostle Paul had a healthy dose of fear. Right?”
James shrugged his shoulders. He didn't know anything about the apostle Paul's fears or anything else. Pastor Gonzales didn't seem to notice. He kept walking from one end of the table to the next.
“I know that Pastor Benjy is familiar with the American prison system, but I'm not sure he understands the Mexico City system. American prisons are high-tech, with trained staff, and highly armed guards. Here, this is just not so. Our guards aren't properly trained; they don't have the weapons they need. Some prisons are run by gangs, and male rape isn't an isolated incident but standard practice.
“Then there's this practice called ‘lockup' in the prison where we are going tomorrow. In early afternoon, the prisoners are given their dinner in a small paper bag. After this, they are sent to their cells, big open spaces, where first-time offenders are held captive, right along with seasoned murderers and rapists. By the time the sun goes down, most of the staff has left and the prison is locked up until the morning.”
“What? So once the guards lock up, they don't go back in?”
“Exactly, my friend, not until morning. If one of the gangs decides they want to recruit you for the position of ‘wifey,' otherwise known as sex slave, there will be no guards to help you. That's why HIV is spreading so quickly.”
“Are you serious?” James shook his head.
What have I gotten myself into?
“Are you going tomorrow?” Pastor G asked.
James didn't answer. He simply poured himself another cup of coffee and went back to his room.
 
There was a knock at his door. “They are on their way to pick us up,” Kenneth said. “Are you coming?”
James was dressed and ready to go. All day, he had been in his bedroom, awaiting this knock. He had thought about completely ignoring the knock; maybe they would just leave him. James hated the thought of appearing weak.
The knock came again, only louder this time.
“James, are you coming or not, man?”
“Yeah, I'll be out in a sec,” James answered, wondering what made him say those words.
A few minutes later, he walked out of the bedroom and tried to make eye contact with Pastor Gonzales to see if he was feeling any better about this whole prison trip. Pastor Gonzales avoided his eyes. He was busying himself by stacking and then restacking several boxes full of Bibles.
Kenneth was eating some type of meat stuffed in a corn tortilla. He seemed completely oblivious to the tension in the room. James looked at Pastor Gonzales again. This time, he looked up, but James could tell the conversation they had last night should not be repeated.
There was a knock on the front door; Kenneth rushed to open it, grabbing two boxes filled with Bibles. Pastor Gonzales grabbed the other two, and all three men rushed down the stairs.
There was a van waiting for them. They put the Bibles in the back of the van and joined the others. James sat in the back and tried to take in as much information as he could about what was supposed to happen today.
This would be a united effort. Three of the teams would walk into one of Mexico's toughest prisons. They had tried other locations, but the leaders of those prisons had done everything possible to put obstacles in their way. However, this particular prison had a Christian woman on staff who was instrumental in allowing them to get clearance. She would be meeting them as soon as they walked through the doors.
Pastor Gonzales seemed completely alarmed that a woman was working in a prison guarding men. “Will she be coming in with us?”
Pastor Benjy replied, “No, I told her that wouldn't be necessary. But she actually wanted to come.”
Pastor Gonzales still seemed bewildered. James no longer cared about appearing weak. He had to know if Pastor Benjy was aware of the danger. James asked, “Are the prison guards properly armed in this particular prison?”
“No,” Pastor Benjy said. “Not only is this prison one of the worst in Mexico, it is also one of the poorest. If something goes wrong, we will not be able to depend on the guards and their guns.
“Also, we might be spending the entire night in the prison,” Pastor Benjy added, like it was an unimportant side note. Pastor Gonzales looked like he was going to vomit.
“Why is that?” James tried to sound calm.
“Well, the only way that they would let us go in was if we went in at our own risk. If something goes wrong at some point during the service, the guards might not feel comfortable going in until the morning, when they have a full staff.”
“Why didn't we just plan this trip during the morning ?” Pastor Gonzales asked.
“After talking with our contact, she suggested that we go in during lockup hours. First, because we could speak with more prisoners at once, and secondly, because going in without a net will get the attention of the prisoners. They will see that we truly believe in the God that we serve. If we had planned the service in the morning, we would have looked scared and unsure of ourselves. We can't be frightened to go where they live and talk to them on their level.”
“Pastor Benjy,” James said loudly, hoping everyone in the van heard him. “Have you ever heard about what happens in this prison when they are locked up all night?”
“Yes—yes, I have, James. I have been called by God to preach the Gospel to the ends of the earth. These men need to know that Jesus has made a way out of no way for them.”
One of the Mexican pastors spoke for the first time. “Prisoners are people too. Perhaps they act like savages because they are treated like savages. We are treating them like men, and we'll be speaking with them, face-to-face, just like you would speak to any man.”
James had heard enough. Everything he was hearing was only making him more nervous, anyway. They rode the rest of the way in silence.
When they arrived, they learned their contact was late. Pastor Benjy always looked so cool, but he clearly didn't like having to wait for her. They had just finished praying. They had formed a prayer circle right outside the doors of the prison before they walked in. This time, James hadn't had a problem standing in a circle and holding hands with a bunch of men.
Pastor Benjy must have prayed for fifteen minutes. James hoped he would have prayed for fifteen more. After the prayer, they were escorted to a small room to get briefed by their contact. After that, they would be walking into a large communal cell—as Pastor Benjy put it—“to share the love of Jesus.”
Their contact walked into the room, a half hour late, with the grace of a beautiful, exotic butterfly. James couldn't keep his eyes off her. He looked around to see if the other men had noticed this vision of womanly perfection. With the exception of Pastor Benjy, who had stood up to greet the young woman, the other men were looking at the table, doing everything they could to avoid looking at her.
She spoke to Pastor Benjy privately for a minute and then cleared her throat to address the group. She was utterly confused when only James and Pastor Benjy seemed to be listening.
“I'm sorry, Ms. Lara,” Pastor Benjy apologized. “It's just that you are a beautiful young woman and our men have made the pact of Job. As Job did, they have made a covenant with their eyes not to look lustfully at women.”
“Job 31:1, I know it very well,” she said. Ms. Lara seemed impressed.
James was certainly impressed. She was covered from head to toe in her uniform, but that did nothing to hide her shapely figure. James wanted to run his fingers through her long, flowing hair. She looked more like a supermodel than she did a prison worker. James started to feel more comfortable. If she felt safe walking around here, then it must be okay.
“It is with great pleasure that I welcome you to Mexico City,” Ms. Lara said. “You have no idea how I, my family, and my church have been praying for this day. As you know, this prison, as well as Mexico City as a whole, is plagued with many serious issues. I believe that God whom we serve is concerned with all of them, from the least to the greatest. I can see by your bravery that you serve the one true God, just as I do.
“I do not take it lightly what you are doing today. I teach English as a second language in prisons throughout Mexico. I know what a dangerous mission this is. I know that you have family members that love you and do not want you in harm's way. Yet, you come. You come because you love Jesus and you love His people.”
James found his eyes lingering on her thighs. Pastor Benjy shot him a look. James turned his attention back to her face.
After she finished speaking, they each stood up, one at a time. They formed a single-file line, as if in grade school. The teacher, Pastor Benjy, was ahead of them, walking his class into what could be a death chamber, not a playground for recess.
James thought his heart was going to beat through his chest. He had sweat forming at his temples and sliding down his face. He closed his hands in fists and then opened them again, like boxers do right before they enter the ring. He needed to do something to try to alleviate the tension that was building up inside him. He wanted to jog around in a few circles, but he decided against it.
They walked down a long cement hallway. There were two expressionless armed guards on either side of the mechanical gate. One guard pushed the button to open the gate. It slowly opened from bottom to top. The guard motioned for them to walk in. James hoped the armed guards would follow. However, they both stayed safely outside the gate, along with Ms. Lara.
Pastor Benjy led them past the gate and into the cell. It was worse than James expected. It wasn't enough that there were at least 200 men within inches of them, but they were barely clothed. Plus, the smell was so bad, James couldn't find a word to describe it. There had to be decaying bodies underneath the soil floor. James glanced down for just a second, sure he was going to see maggots.
Looking down for that second caused him to drop a few steps behind the line. He stepped faster, but not too fast. He knew enough not to look scared. After all, just a few weeks ago, he was a seasoned officer of the law in a major city. But he also had a revolver on his hip and a radio to call for armed backup. As much as he hated to admit it, James knew that nothing in his career had prepared him for this.
At this moment, there was a multitude of prisoners that could grab him, squeeze the life out of him, and there wouldn't be anything Pastor Benjy or the guards could do about it. James wished the prisoners would talk or move around or do something—behave like a group of men in suits came around here all the time.
Instead, each of the inmates was quietly standing still as the pastors made their way to the front area. It was clear that this didn't happen every day, and each man wanted to make sure he didn't miss one single part of the show. James felt he was going to faint. The smell was unbearable.

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