Chapter 12 Political Science #2
Matt had already known that Harley had been on security detail during his interview.
What he hadn’t known until he read the rules was what that security detail involved.
Harley had bustled around Oklahoma City using the other members’ credit cards to buy gas, movie tickets, or cheap meals, for all of which he had saved receipts.
If Matt’s interview had gone awry, if he had later had gay guilt and reported the incident to the dean, all the members would have had ironclad alibis that put them elsewhere, no two at the same place.
The hotel room had been booked and paid for by the alumni association.
The whole scheme was nothing short of brilliant and worthy of a GM.
Huebsch devoted his officer’s report to a quick summary of Robert’s Rules, a system, he explained, meant to ensure orderliness and curb the majority from railroading their agenda.
Then back to Colton who announced he’d just thought of a way to introduce new members to parliamentary procedure. He asked Huebsch if he happened to have copies of that practice resolution they’d drafted.
Molly nudged Matt again. She had sharp elbows. “Heads up, jock boy. Eyes on the ball.”
Huebsch made a show of rifling through a stack of papers, shaking his head theatrically as he neared the bottom and hadn’t found the desired document. Then, VOILA, there it was! There they were—plural, enough copies for everyone. Praise the Lord.
Colton talked while Huebsch handed out the copies. “Okay people, this is a rough version of what we sometimes deal with. It’s called a resolution because it states the opinion, or recommendation, of SGA. Don’t let the format spook you. This is a formal style used by legislatures.”
Matt took his copy and started reading.
“WHEREAS Romans 1 tells us that when humans gave up the truth of God and exchanged it for a lie, the consequence was ‘vile affections’ where the men ‘burned in their lust one towards another, men with men working that which is unseemly;’ and
WHEREAS Romans 12 instructs us to “abhor that which is evil; cleave to that which is good;” and
WHEREAS Dean Smith recently confronted a homosexual student who refused to repent of his sin, leaving the administration no choice but to remove said student,
THEREFORE, be it resolved by the Student Government Association (SGA) of Midwest Christian University that Dean Smith and the college administration be commended for their diligence to the commands of scripture and for protecting the student body from an ABOMINABLE stain.”
Matt stared at the words in front of him.
Reread them. Colton Langley wasn’t content with having instigated Adam Maxwell’s removal from school.
Wasn’t bothered that his actions had led to Adam’s nearly dying by suicide.
Wasn’t satisfied even after Gay Chapel, where Adam had been specifically named and shamed in abstentia, where Colton had been called onto the stage and praised for his role in ridding the campus of a fag.
Nope. Colton wanted an official record, a trophy he could frame, recording for all time that SGA approved of the whole affair.
Matt looked up and met Colton’s gaze. There was that smile again, that predatory “I know what you are” stare. Colton might not be able to read minds, but no one in the GM doubted his gaydar.
Colton banged his gavel. It was showtime.
Huebsch’s hand shot up. He didn’t wait to be acknowledged. “I move ‘previous question.’”
Colton explained to the newbies that ‘previous question’ was a motion to end debate and move straight to a vote on the resolution. They should read their photocopied guide if they wanted more details. Meanwhile, was there a second to the motion?
“Second,” someone said.
Matt looked around, utterly lost. He could track a triple play in a baseball game.
Could predict football plays based on subtle shifts in the player’s hips.
Could follow a soccer ball as it was dribbled and passed, intercepted, zipping back and forth.
The closest he’d experienced to this mayhem had been a used car auction he’d attended with a friend who had been certain he could snap up a good deal.
They’d left after thirty minutes, rattled by the auctioneer’s machine gun style, overwhelmed by the pace of the whole thing.
Matt knew what he should do here. Nothing. Lie low. William would advise as much. So would Evan. “Don’t jeopardize the larger plan,” they would say. “What difference does this dumb resolution make anyway? Adam’s already gone.”
Matt viewed the situation through a different lens.
Five years earlier he had stood by, done nothing, while two bullies shoved Spencer around.
That inaction haunted him still, fertilizing the shame inside him.
Now two bullies were targeting another defenseless kid, one who had suffered enough already.
He would not make the same mistake twice.
He looked to Molly for help. “How do I stop this?”
“We will now vote on previous question on the resolution,” Colton said. “All in favor of ending debate, raise your hands.”
Several students raised their hands.
Molly had already been studying the little chart of parliamentary motions and their ranking. “Raise your hand and call out ‘On Information?’ Langley will have to pause things and recognize you. Then phrase your best argument as a question to the chair.”
“All against ending debate—” Colton began.
“ON INFORMATION?” Matt shouted, raising his hand.
Huebsch glared at Matt.
“State your question,” Colton said to Matt. His tone was condescending. He had the home court advantage.
Molly elbowed Matt. “Stand up!” she hissed.
Matt stood, still not sure what to say, how to phrase it. This was exactly why he hated public speaking. “Um, on information.” Pause. “What is… Scratch that. Sorry.” Pause. “Can the chair tell us the moral of Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan?”
Colton rolled his eyes. “I think we all know that one. Jesus was saying that we should love our neighbor as we love ourselves.”
Matt remained standing, letting Colton’s words hang in the air, watching as realization settled on students’ faces.
Molly took a more direct approach. “ON INFORMATION?”, she called out, jumping to her feet.
Colton was visibly exasperated. “State your question.”
“Does the chair think Jesus would consider a hospitalized gay teenager to be my neighbor?”
Huebsch lost his shit and started yelling that Molly was out of order.
Colton banged his gavel.
In the end, the motion for previous question failed, which wasn’t so much a victory for Matt as it was a speedbump that bought him time. They still had to debate the resolution and then vote on it.
Colton announced that they were drawing up the speakers’ lists for the debate. There would be five minutes for those supporting the resolution, equal time for those opposed.
The secretary recorded the names of all students who wished to speak.
Huebsch was first to speak for the resolution.
He spent his minute raging against the “Gay Agenda,” quoting scripture, going so far as to claim that the fall of the Roman Empire could be traced to acceptance of homosexuality, and that anyone who opposed the resolution must wish a similar fate for the United States.
Matt was surprised at how tone deaf Huebsch was. This was a man who would always be a toady.
Then it was Matt’s turn. His original plan, if there had been a plan at all, had been to stop the resolution from passing. Nothing more. Now he had a different idea.
He stood, shifting his weight nervously. All eyes were on him. He took a moment to gather his thoughts. “I think it is safe to say that even if we don’t approve this resolution, the Stars and Stripes will still be flying tomorrow. And next year.”
Everyone laughed at Huebsch’s expense.
Matt continued. “This isn’t about whether you approve of homosexuality.
We can’t say anything new that God hasn’t already said.
So let God be the judge of whether the administration did the right thing.
Our job, our only job, is to love our neighbor.
And I say that Adam Maxwell is my neighbor.
Right or wrong. Gay or straight. He was a fellow student one day and kicked out the next.
He nearly died! I think SGA should send him a card, signed by all of us, telling him we care about him and wish him well.
Oh, and maybe send some flowers as well.
I think that’s what Jesus would want us to do. ”
He was done in thirty seconds. He sat down, his heart pounding so heavily he barely heard the loud applause.
The girl sitting two rows ahead of him, the one who had gushed about his having taken a card to Debbie, turned towards him, beaming, tears in her eyes.