“Judas Church” — Episode 1

Chapter 1

The day I almost died was the day I found new life.

I woke up in the hospital room, bewildered as to why I was there. The room was dark. A curtain was drawn partially on the side in front of my bed and I couldn’t see the door. How did I get here?

Staring up into the darkness, I suddenly became aware of pain in my body — a low, throbbing pain in my head. I shut my eyes again and tried to concentrate. The last thing I remembered was driving very fast along the winding road to a friend’s house. It was raining, but I knew the road so well — I’d driven it many times — that I didn’t bother to slow down. I was on my way to celebrate college graduation with some friends.

I tried to think harder, but I didn’t remember anything after that.

Hours later, when I reawakened, daylight was shining into the room from behind the thin beige curtains that covered the large window to my right. My head still hurt, and, for the first time, I felt the bandage on it. I could hear the beeping sounds of hospital machinery and the sounds of feet and wheels in the hall just outside my room. There was a covered dish on the small table to my right, but I wasn’t hungry, so I let it be. I wished someone would come tell me what was wrong with me.

As if on cue, the door opened and rapid footsteps approached my bedside. A hand appeared and yanked back the curtain around my bed.

“Dude, what happened to you?” Leon said looking down at me, the long, lightning-bolt shaped scar on the left side of his face stood out stark brown against his tanned skin.

“I’m hoping you can tell me,” I said. “The last thing I remember was driving. And aren’t you supposed to be in Indonesia right now?”

“Our flight got canceled. We had to reschedule for later today.” Leon waved his hand dismissively. “Which is good, because you were in a car accident.”

“Oh, man,” I said. “My car.” I had a black, custom-made Spyder Porsche.

“It’s a total loss,” Leon said. “It’s a miracle you got out alive.”

My heart sank. I loved that car.

“Besides, you have bigger problems to worry about than a car,” Leon said his tone growing more serious.

My brow furrowed. “Like a concussion?” I said.

“No. Another vehicle was involved in the accident. The two adults are alive and they’re gonna be okay. But, their little girl…” Leon shook his head. “She’s in a coma… they say she suffered severe trauma.”

“Oh, man…” I shook my head. “I hope she doesn’t die.”

“I gotta ask you something else, Jaidon,” Leon said.

“What?”

“If you had died last night, what would have happened to you?”

I shrugged. “I’d just be dead, I guess.” I was still thinking about the little girl in a coma.

“That’s not what I mean,” Leon said. “What would have happened to you? Where would you have gone?”

I could see where he was going with this. All through my graduate years of study at the University of Maryland he kept trying to talk to me about spiritual stuff. I knew all that he was about to say now: I’m a sinner destined for eternal punishment and separation from God. But, God loves me and he sent his son, Jesus Christ, to save me. If I wanted to be cleansed of my sin and be sure that I would go to Heaven when I died, I had to believe in Jesus Christ for salvation.

“You nearly died, man,” Leon said. “You could be dead right now.” He snapped his finger. “Gone. Out of here. What then? Something happens after that — Heaven, Hell. You don’t just cease to exist.”

I was quiet for a moment before answering. “I see what you mean.”

Chapter 2

Right there in that hospital room, Leon led me in what he called “the sinner’s prayer.” It wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. I wasn’t sure if I felt any different or anything, but I didn’t say anything to Leon about that. I was still thinking about the girl in a coma.

Leon left as the nurse came in to check my vitals. She told me I needed to eat to regain my strength. So, I ate the lukewarm breakfast of lumpy eggs, hard grits, bacon, and orange juice while watching the local TV news.

I was scooping up the last of the grits when I saw my black Spyder Porsche appear on the screen. Leon was right: it was a mangled mess. But I didn’t care about it anymore. My eyes were on the silver minivan the front of which had been crushed; the hood was bent up and the windshield was shattered. I was amazed that anyone had come out alive.

“Last night a horrific accident took place just outside Baltimore,” the reporter was saying. “Four people were involved, one of them a child who is in a coma at Sinai Hospital. The three adults — the driver of the Porsche and the mother and father of the child who were in the minivan — are also hospitalized. They are expected to survive.”

I prayed my first serious prayer just then. “God,” I said. “Please help that little girl survive. Let her come out of that coma. I’ll do anything you want me to do if you let her live.” I said “Amen” afterward because I’d heard Leon do that more than once. I didn’t know what “Amen” meant.

Just as I finished the breakfast, the hospital room door swung open and a police officer came in. My throat tightened.

The officer’s stomach bulged so much that it looked like the buttons on his shirt would burst off any moment. He was followed by a tall man in a suit with a clipboard.

“Jaidon York?” the tall man asked looking at his clipboard.

I nodded.

He flashed a badge. “I’m Investigator Thomas Lourdes with the Baltimore Police Department.” He glanced at the TV screen. “I assume you know why we’re here.”

I nodded again.

He sat down in the chair with a sigh as the policeman stood quietly behind him. “Mr. York, you want to tell me what happened last night?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “I’ll tell you what I remember.”

Mr. Lourdes nodded. “Go ahead.”

“Yesterday, I graduated with my Masters in Business Administration from the University of Maryland,” I said. “After the ceremony, I was headed up to a friend’s house up north of here. We were going to have a little celebration — pizza, ice cream — you know.”

“Had you been up there before?” asked Mr. Lourdes.

“Yes, sir,” I said. “Several times. So, I was driving. I was about halfway there. I don’t remember anything else. I woke up here.”

The investigator nodded. “Had you been drinking before you began driving?”

“No, sir. I don’t drink.”

“Were you sleep deprived?”

I shrugged. That’s relative, I thought. “Not anymore than any other graduate student,” I said. “But I had gotten up earlier than usual yesterday.”

“Were you driving over the speed limit?”

“Honestly, I can’t remember what the speed limit was. I don’t think there are any signs on that road.” If there was a speed limit, I probably wasn’t paying attention to it. “I have a weakness for fast cars,” I admitted.

“I can tell,” the investigator said flipping over a paper on his clipboard. “You also own a Saleen S7 and a Hennessey Venom.”

I gulped. “Yes, sir.” Then I quickly added, “The Hennessey was a gift from my father.”

“Mm-hmm,” the investigator said. “Mr. York, our CSI team has found that the skid marks on the road indicate that you were driving outside of the right lane. Do you think that’s an accurate statement?”

That sounded accurate to me, and I knew that would probably make me responsible for the accident. If the little girl died, I could be charged with vehicular manslaughter. “I’m afraid so,” I said. “But the road is narrow and navigating those curves is tricky.”

“Especially if you are driving very fast,” the investigator said.

I swallowed hard. “Yes, especially if…”

The investigator looked over his notes. “Well, Mr. York, it looks like that’s all we need from you right now.” He took out his business card and placed it on the small table beside my bedside. “We’ll be in touch if we need anything else from you. My contact information is on my card.”

“Thank you,” I said.

Chapter 3

I was released from the hospital the following day. The nurse gave me some painkillers to ease my headaches from the concussion I had suffered, but I’m sure my constant worrying about the girl in the coma didn’t help.

The other thing I worried about was the decision I made in the hospital room. It still sounded a bit strange to think it to myself: I am a Christian.

Laying in bed late Saturday morning, I said it aloud: “I am a Christian now.” I looked around the bedroom of my penthouse almost expecting something to happen. Nothing happened. The white walls with the black and white photographs of my favorite NASCAR drivers — Dale Earnhardt, Richard Petty, and Ned Jarrett — stared back at me. I got out of bed, took two painkillers, and walked into the living room. I sat down on the long, white couch and stared out of the two huge, floor-to-ceiling windows. From the twelfth floor of the Ritz-Carlton Residences, I could see the azure waters of the inner harbor of Baltimore.

I was still thinking about this new thing of being a Christian. I had never been a really religious person. I remember my grandfather praying when I was a kid and my parents let me spend the Christmas holiday with them on their farm in Massachusetts. But that was about it. My parents weren’t religious either. So, I was pretty much lost.

I picked up the phone to call Leon. I wanted to know what I was supposed to do next. I called him twice, and he picked up on the last ring sounding groggy.

“Hello.”

“Leon,” I said. “You still sleeping? It’s almost ten o’ clock.”

“It’s eleven o’clock at night here, man.”

“Oh, right,” I said. “You’re in Indonesia now. I can call you back at another time.”

“Nah, right now’s fine. What’s up?”

“I need to ask you something about this being a Christian thing. What’s next?”

“Next, you need to start attending church,” Leon said. “That way you’ll be around other believers and you’ll start learning more about the decision you made. I should have told you that when I was there. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “You had a lot on your mind. So, which church?” I continued. “I know there are a lot of them.”

“Right. I recommend City of Fellowship Bible Church. It’s in south Baltimore,” Leon said. “You should get in touch with Manley Reeves. He and his sister go there and he’ll be glad to show you the ropes.”

“Okay, cool,” I said. “Talk to you later.”

Manley Reeves worked for the ROTC program at the University of Maryland. He had tried to recruit me when I first started attending there, but I already had a job lined up with Wegel & Co. Marketing Services when I graduated. (My dad co-founded the $500 million company nearly thirty years ago.) Even though I turned Manley down, we remained good friends throughout my time in college.

“Jaidon,” he said when he picked up the phone. “I didn’t get to congratulate you on your graduation, so congratulations!”

“Thank you,” I said. “I have some other good news too.”

I briefly told him about my decision to become a Christian.

“Man, that’s great,” he said. “I always knew you would come around. God answers prayer.”

I wondered if God would answer my prayer about saving the life of the girl who was in a coma from the car accident.

I told Manley what Leon told me about attending church with him.

“Tell you what,” Manley said, “the Saturday evening service starts at eight. I’ll come out to your place and pick you up around seven-thirty. We can ride together.”

“Okay, I’ll be ready,” I said.

So that was that. I was going to go to church as a Christian that evening.