February 26, 1998.  Learning things about my roommate and the Apostle Paul’s friends, and a hot redhead. (#164)

I got off the bus in the afternoon on Andrews Road across the street from Jeromeville Covenant Church.  This was the church I attended on Sunday mornings, and I was there Wednesday nights as a volunteer with The Edge, the junior high school youth group, but now, on a Thursday afternoon, I was not headed to church.  I crossed the street and walked past the apartments just north of the church.  At the far end of that apartment complex, I turned, walking across their parking lot.  This apartment complex backed up to another apartment complex on another street, built separately but owned by the same company, with an opening in the fence between the two, three parking places wide.  Metal poles three feet high across this opening prevented cars from passing through, but one could easily walk from one parking lot to the other, as I did now.

This other apartment complex was across the street from my house.  I walked to the street, crossed it, and continued walking to my front door.  My roommate Sean was home; his compact pickup truck was parked in the driveway.  His license plate frame caught my eye: MY OTHER CAR IS A ZAMBONI, it said.  I had seen this on his truck many times, it was not new, and Zamboni machines were just inherently awesome for some reason.  But that day, reading those words brought me to a puzzling realization I had never had before.  I had known Sean for well over two years at this point, and we had both lived in this house for almost six months.  Yet I had never heard him talk about hockey, watch hockey, or perform any activity related to ice hockey in any way.  Why would Sean have a Zamboni license plate frame?  Hockey was not popular in Jeromeville; the nearest professional hockey team played a hundred miles away in San Tomas, whereas basketball, which was played during the same time of year, had a team nearby in Capital City.  Maybe Sean was a hockey fan, but without many hockey fans in Jeromeville, did not talk about it much.  Or maybe someone in Sean’s family liked hockey and put the license plate frame on the truck; I knew nothing about Sean’s family beyond that he had two brothers.

I walked in the house.  Sean was at the dining room table, studying a textbook about birds.  He was majoring in wildlife biology.  “Hey, Greg,” he said.  Pointing to a picture in his book, he continued, “Name that bird.”

I had no idea what kind of bird it was.  “I name it ‘Bob,’” I said.  Sean laughed, then I asked him, “I was just wondering.  What’s the story behind your ‘My Other Car Is A Zamboni’ license plate frame?”

As if it were the most ordinary, mundane fact in the world, Sean explained, “Frank Zamboni was my great-grandfather.  My relatives own the company.”

I stopped what I was doing and stared wide-eyed.  “Wow.  That is the coolest thing ever.”

“I guess,” Sean said.  “What are you up to tonight?”

How did I go all these years not knowing the important fact that my friend was a direct descendant of the inventor of the ice resurfacer?  I suppose that for Sean, though, it was less of a big deal, since he had grown up always knowing this about his family.  “I have Bible study at Joe Fox’s place,” I said, answering his question.

“Is that the group that you were telling me is really big?”

“Yeah.  I think it kind of serves them right for having all these specialized groups for different categories of people, and only one group for people who don’t fit those categories.  It means that JCF will have to acknowledge that there are some issues with how they’re doing small groups.  But Joe and Lydia found a way to make it work, even as big as it is.  I like it.”

“That’s good.”

After talking with Sean, I went to my room to check email and study for a while.  I lost track of time and left for Bible study about ten minutes later than I had wanted to.  I did not have far to go, Joe’s apartment was only about a mile away, but I knew I was getting there later than I wanted to.

I had felt a little frustrated with the way Jeromeville Christian Fellowship did small groups this year.  They always had some groups specifically meeting on campus in freshman dorms; I had no problem with that.  They also had Bible studies specifically for training students for leadership in ministry; these groups were hand-picked by their leaders, and from my perspective on the outside, they formalized and perpetuated cliques within the groups.  Many other students were leading Bible studies for specific purposes: two only for women, but none for men; one for transfer students; and groups for other categories I was not part of.  Joe Fox and Lydia Tyler, both fifth-year students, led the only group without a special focus, and all of the students who did not fit into those cliques or subgroups ended up in this one group.  With over twenty students on an average week, it could hardly be called a small group.

I could tell before I got inside that the living room was full, because I could hear voices from the other side of the front door.  I opened the door without knocking, since I was here every week, and stepped inside.  I waved at everyone who said hi to me, then carefully walked to an open spot on the floor.  With over twenty people attending each week, Joe’s living room got quite crowded, and this week I did not get a spot on the couch or in a chair.  A blond sophomore guy named Colin Bowman sat next to me.  “Hey,” I said.

“What’s up?” Colin asked.

“Not much.  I have a lot of work to catch up on, but I don’t think I’ll get anything more done tonight.  It can wait until the weekend.”

The only other open spot on the floor was all the way on the other side of the room next to Kendra Burns, a junior girl whom I had known for a while.  I would have rather had the other open spot near me, because two minutes after I arrived, an attractive, physically fit girl walked in and sat in the other open spot.  She had dark red hair, and she wore tight jeans and a tight-fitting shirt exposing her midriff.  She started talking to Kendra; apparently they knew each other.  She carried a Bible, and it appeared to be somewhat worn from reading; apparently this other girl was a Christian, not just checking out the group.  She turned her head slightly in my direction, and I looked down so she would not notice I was staring.  That was not exactly appropriate behavior for a Bible study.

Joe got everyone’s attention, and the group got quiet.  “Welcome,” he said.  “Before we start, we have announcements, and we also have a new person.”  Joe looked in the attractive redhead’s direction.

“Hi,” she said.  “I’m Rachael.  Kendra invited me.  We had a class together last quarter.  I used to go to U-Life and First Baptist, but I wanted to try out something new.”

“Welcome, Rachael,” Joe replied.  “Hopefully you enjoy the study.”

Lydia took over speaking next, making announcements about an upcoming spring retreat and a fundraiser for people from JCF who would be on summer mission trips.  Joe got out a guitar, and we sang two worship songs.

“Tonight we’re finally going to finish our study of Romans that we’ve been doing all year,” Joe explained.  “Then we have something else planned for the next two weeks, and when we come back from break, we have another study planned for the spring quarter.  So, tonight we’re reading both chapters 15 and 16.  You’ll do that after you break into your groups.”

Since this Bible study was so big, we had developed a routine of doing announcements and worship together as a large group, then dividing into three smaller groups for the actual Scripture reading and discussion.  If this group had to be so big, this was the best compromise, the best way to deal with it so that everyone got to participate in discussions.  The three groups were not fixed; one of the leaders would split the groups at the spur of the moment depending on where we sat during worship and announcements.  One group usually stayed in the living room, one went in Joe’s room, and one went in Scott’s room.  Scott was never home during our Bible study, because he led a Bible study for freshmen on campus at the same time.

This week, I was assigned to Scott’s room.  I sat on the floor against his bed as the rest of my group walked in: Evan Lundgren, Courtney Kohl, Colin Bowman, Silas Penfield, Anna Lam, and Alyssa Kramer.  Alyssa was Joe’s girlfriend, and she had become a de facto third leader for the group; each week, Lydia took one of the three smaller groups, Joe another, and Alyssa the third.  I was a little disappointed that Rachael and Kendra were not in my group.  Maybe I would get a chance to talk to Rachael afterward.

“So we’re gonna start by reading Romans 15 and 16,” Alyssa announced.  “Just read it to yourselves, and we’ll discuss any impressions you have first before we get to the discussion questions.”  I opened my Bible and began reading, starting in chapter 15.  There was a lot in the chapter, including one verse which had become very familiar to me recently.  Earlier this month, I spent a long weekend at Winter Camp with the kids from church.  The youth pastor always makes a mix tape of Christian music, called the Edge Mix, to give to the kids.  Edge Mix ’98 included audio clips of students from the youth group sharing testimonies, and one girl quoted from Romans 15 in her testimony: “May the God who gives endurance and encouragement give you a spirit of unity among yourselves as you follow Christ Jesus, so that with one heart and mouth you may glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

No one had mentioned why we were doing two chapters tonight.  We always had only read one chapter per week in the past, and some of the longer chapters with more theological depth, like chapter 8, we had further split into two weeks.  We were not pressed for time, since we had two weeks left of the quarter to do something else before starting our study for the spring quarter.  My guess was that chapter 16 was not the kind of Scripture that gets taught or preached about often in terms of being practical for Christians living in 1998, so Joe and Lydia expected us to have little to discuss from chapter 16.  Most of the chapter consisted of the Apostle Paul telling the Romans to greet specific people he knew.

A few months ago, I had attended the National Youth Workers’ Convention, and the free gifts for attendees included something called the Serendipity Student Bible, which included discussion questions specifically for youth groups.  I was using this Bible at the time, and the questions for Romans 16 asked what kinds of things Paul pointed out about the specific people mentioned in the chapter, and what this could mean for us.  I noticed this as I read chapter 16.

When I was about halfway through the chapter, Alyssa interrupted, announcing, “You don’t have to read all the names in 16.”  Apparently I was correct that we were not planning on studying this part of the book.  But, in light of what I had recently read in my youth group study Bible, I felt a need to speak up.

“But,” I said, “by studying who Paul wrote to, and what he said about those people, we can learn a lot about what he valued in people.”

“That’s a really good point,” Alyssa replied.  “So maybe go ahead and read 16.”

After a few more minutes, Alyssa asked if any of us had any insights about anything we read.  “Looking at the people Paul greets in chapter 16,” I said, “there’s a recurring theme of helping each other.  ‘Greet Priscilla and Aquila… they risked their lives for me.’  ‘Greet Mary, who worked very hard for you.’  ‘Tryphena and Tryphosa, those women who worked hard in the Lord.’ ‘Persis, another woman who has worked very hard in the Lord.’  Working hard for the Lord and the Church was obviously important to Paul.”

“Yeah,” Courtney added.  “Especially at that time, early in the Church’s history, facing persecution.”

“Good point,” Alyssa said.  “Anyone else?”

“Some of these people from chapter 16 appear in other parts of the Bible,” Evan said.  “Like Priscilla and Aquila, they were in Acts.  Paul met them on his travels.”

“Gaius,” Silas added.  “Gaius is mentioned somewhere else.”

“What’s this ‘I, Tertius, who wrote down this letter?’  Verse 22?” Anna asked.

“What?” Courtney said.  “Tertius?  But Paul wrote this letter.  That’s weird.”

“Tertius was the scribe,” I explained.  I remembered learning about this in Professor Hurt’s New Testament class last year.  “Paul dictated his letters to someone else who wrote them down.  In some of the other letters, at the end, there will be a verse where it says something like, ‘I, Paul, write this in my own hand,’ because the rest of the letter was written by a scribe.”

“Yes,” Alyssa said.  “That’s what I always learned too.”

“Verse 3,” Evan said.  “‘Greet also the church that meets at their house.’ Priscilla and Aquila’s house.  It’s important to remember that churches met in houses in ancient Rome.  They didn’t have church buildings like we do today.”

“Yeah,” Courtney added.  “And later he says something about Gaius’ hospitality.  Hospitality was a big deal to Paul and the early church.”

We continued discussing Romans for a total of about half an hour.  Many more discussions emerged from analyzing Paul’s greetings in chapter 16, and eventually someone brought up some of the verses in chapter 15, the part we were actually expecting to study before I made my suggestion about chapter 16.  At one point, Courtney said, “I love how we spent most of our time on the verses that you said we could skip.”  Everyone laughed.

After our Bible study, we shared prayer requests as a group, then we returned to the living room.  Lydia’s group was there, in the middle of prayers.  Joe’s group had not come back out to the living room yet.  I quietly sat on the couch, next to where Rachael was sitting on the floor, and waited for them to finish praying, praying with them when I could.  When they finished, they looked up and opened their eyes.

“Welcome back, Alyssa’s group,” Lydia said.

Rachael looked up at me and made eye contact.  “Hi,” I said.  “Rachael, was it?”

“Yeah!” she said, smiling.  “What was your name?”

“Greg.”

“Nice to meet you!”  Rachael shook my hand.

“You said you go to University Life?” I asked.

“Yeah.  I wasn’t really clicking with my small group there, so I decided to come with Kendra to her Bible study instead.”

“That works,” I said.  “I’ve been to U-Life a couple times last year, when I was having some issues with JCF.  I know a few people there.”

“I wasn’t there last year.  I just transferred to Jeromeville this year.  I’m a kinesiology major, and the kinesiology department at my other school made some changes that aren’t really the direction I want to go with my studies.”

“Are things going better for you here?”

“Definitely!”

“Where was your other school?”

“Grandvale State.  In Oregon.”

“Really!” I exclaimed, surprised.  “I was there last summer!”

“You were in Grandvale?”

“Yeah, doing the summer research internship with the Grandvale State math department.”

“That’s crazy!  I wonder if we knew any of the same people?  Did you go to a church in Grandvale?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Grandvale Baptist.”

“I went to Valley Community Church.  I don’t know anyone from Grandvale Baptist.  What was it like?”

“I went to the college and career Bible study.  It was okay, but I probably would have taken my time and looked at other churches if I’d been staying in Grandvale for longer.  And I didn’t have a car, so I needed something close by.”

“That makes sense.  But, hey, it was nice meeting you.  I need to get going, I have a midterm tomorrow to study for.”

“Good luck! I’ll see you around!”

“Thanks!”

I stuck around a little longer to make small talk, particularly with people who were not in my discussion group.  Kendra asked me about The Edge and said that she was considering youth ministry.  That would be nice, to have a new leader whom I was already friends with.  I told her that Adam White, the youth pastor at church, would be the best person to contact with questions.

Unfortunately, I never saw Rachael again.  She did not come back to Bible study, and I never saw her on campus.  That seemed to be a recurring theme in my life; I would meet someone that I wanted to get to know better, and I would never see the other person again.

On the way home, the rest of the night, I kept thinking about our extended discussion of Romans 16.  I usually thought of the Apostle Paul as some kind of great Christian leader; after all, he wrote about a third of the New Testament.  But back in his time, before there was a New Testament, he was a guy doing God’s work, and he had friends, brothers and sisters in Christ who were important to him.  Paul’s books in the New Testament were originally written as letters, personal correspondence between him and important people in his life.

I had brothers and sisters in Christ who were important to me too: my Bible study, the rest of my friends from JCF, the other leaders at The Edge, everyone else I knew at church.  Rachael may not have become part of my group of friends, but that was okay.  Wherever life took me in the future, I could always find a community of believers just by looking for a church.

At this point in my life, though, I was hoping that life would not take me very far; I was happy enough as a part of Jeromeville Covenant Church, volunteering as a leader with The Edge, that I was content to stay in Jeromeville for the rest of my life.  There was a time when I never would have expected to feel this way, given the liberal university town politics that dominate Jeromeville, and I knew that life would change once I was no longer a student.  But I was putting down roots in the community, something I never had back home in Plumdale, and Jeromeville was really starting to feel like home.  Of course, life would not turn out the way I had planned, but I had no way of fully understanding all that would happen to me at that time.

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Readers: Tell me about someone you met once and never saw again, and why you wished you had met that person again.

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