Mickey Johnston Ch 2

The Confrontation

Mickey Johnston paced his cramped living room, his thoughts racing faster than he could keep up with them. His Bible lay open on the coffee table, highlighted verses glowing like radioactive warnings. The words of Jesus had pierced through the smog of his belief system, revealing a harsh truth he could no longer ignore: Evangelical Christianity, the faith he had devoted his life to, stood in stark violation of the Law of Jesus.

A knock at the door jolted him from his thoughts. He opened it to see Joshua Holyman, his old mentor. The man was as polished as ever, dressed in a crisp suit, Bible in hand, a mask of serene authority etched into his face.

“Mickey,” Joshua greeted him with a fatherly smile. “You sounded... troubled.”

“Come in,” Mickey said, his voice tight. He stepped aside, letting Joshua into the room.

Joshua took a seat, his calm demeanor unnerving. Mickey remained standing, arms crossed. “I’ve been thinking, Joshua. About everything. About what we’ve been teaching. And I need answers.”

Joshua nodded, leaning forward slightly. “Of course, son. That’s what I’m here for. What’s on your mind?”

Mickey gestured toward the Bible on the table. “This. The words of Jesus. Loving your neighbor, turning the other cheek, helping the poor, the meek inheriting the earth. None of it matches what we do. We preach prosperity, nationalism, control. We lie to people, Joshua. We manipulate them. How does that square with the Law of Jesus?”

Joshua’s smile faltered, just a fraction. “Mickey, you have to understand, the world is complex. The Gospel is about spreading the good news in ways that resonate with people where they are.”

“Resonate?” Mickey’s voice rose. “You mean lie. Twist scripture to fit an agenda. How does that ‘resonate’ with the truth?”

Joshua leaned back, a shadow crossing his face. “Mickey, you’re being naïve. The Gospel is a tool. A means to an end. If we can bring people to Jesus, does it matter how we do it?”

“Yes, it matters!” Mickey shouted, his hands clenched into fists. “Jesus didn’t manipulate people! He didn’t spread fear or demand loyalty to some flag! He called out hypocrisy. He told the truth, even when it cost him. How can you justify doing the exact opposite?”

Joshua’s mask of serenity cracked, revealing the irritation beneath. “You think you’re the first to question this? Every leader in this movement has faced the same doubts. But we understand the bigger picture. The world is broken, Mickey. People need guidance. Structure. Order. If bending the truth keeps them in line, then so be it.”

Mickey stared at him, aghast. “Keeps them in line? That’s what this is about? Controlling people?”

Joshua stood, his composure unraveling. “Yes, Mickey. Control is part of it. Without it, society collapses. People are lost. And if a little deception keeps them from chaos, it’s a small price to pay.”

Mickey’s chest heaved, his world spinning. He shook his head, backing away. “That’s not faith, Joshua. That’s a con. You’re not saving souls—you’re imprisoning them. And you’ve been doing it for so long you actually believe it’s righteous.”

Joshua’s face hardened. “You’re making a mistake, Mickey. Questioning your calling. Questioning me.”

“No,” Mickey said, his voice steady now. “The mistake was ever trusting you.”

Joshua’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing more. He picked up his Bible, straightened his suit, and strode out the door without another word.

Mickey collapsed onto the couch, the silence that followed deafening. His faith had been his anchor, but now, it felt like a chain that had kept him bound. For the first time, he wasn’t sure where he stood—but at least, he was free to figure it out.