Felicia Mason - Sweet Accord

With just a few minutes remaining before the class ended, Haley breathed a sigh of relief that Matt hadn’t challenged her again. Her relief was short-lived, though, when one of the guys turned toward Matt.

“You’re the new choir director. What do you think about all of this?”

Matt leaned forward. Haley held her breath.

“I think everyone praises God in his or her own way. For some, it’s quiet reverence, as Miss Cartwright puts it,” he said with a nod toward Haley, who sat erect in her chair. “For others though, praise may come with a waving hand, tears, a shout of hallelujah or dancing.”

“Dancing?” Cindy said.

Matt chuckled. “Not that kind. There are many Christians who believe that holy dancing is a form of divine worship and praise.”

“We’re out of time,” Haley quickly interjected before this got out of hand.

“Oh, man,” someone complained. “It was just getting good.”

They said a final prayer; Haley then passed out a sheet with home Bible study suggestions and activities for the coming week and they began to disperse for the unity gathering.

Haley had smiles and hugs for the teens as they filed out of the classroom. She complimented Shannon on her new braided hair, and again thanked Josh for volunteering to read the Scripture in class and during the closing. She offered Miguel a word of encouragement as he left and overhead Jacob still talking about the end of their discussion.

“Jacob,” Haley called, with the intent of answering a question he had about a scene in a movie that showed women dancing around a golden idol. But Matt touched her elbow. She knew it was him because the hair at her neck prickled with an uneasy awareness.

She whirled around, soundly closing the classroom door behind her. “How dare you?”

In the face of her anger, Matt took a step back. “Whoa, Haley. What’s wrong?”

“How dare you bring something like that up in here? We’re a conservative congregation, Mr. Brandon. If you think you’re going to come in here and just turn things around and have people shimmying and shaking in the aisles, you’re gonna be out of a job faster than you can say ‘What happened?’”

“You know,” he said, his voice a slow drawl. For the first time, Haley heard a bit of his Louisiana heritage in his voice. “I’ve typically found that the people who are most resistant to change are the ones who have the most to lose. What do you have to lose, Haley? I’m not here to take your position if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“What I’m worried about is you putting thoughts and ideas in those kids’ heads. Things that will confuse them. This isn’t a seminary. It’s Sunday school.”

“Oh, well perish the thought that they might think and evaluate anything for themselves. Who died and made you gospel queen?”

Before she realized it, Haley’s hand connected with his face. The slap resounded in the classroom.

He caught her hand in his, his grip strong and sure.

Mortified, Haley stared at the red imprint on his jaw. She’d never in her life hit another human being. Her mouth trembled and tears filled her eyes. But she didn’t apologize.

She tried to tug her hand from his, but Matt held on, his blue eyes locked with hers.

“You try me,” he said. His voice, while not cold, didn’t hold any warmth either. An indefinable something gleamed in his eyes, though. A shiver raced through Haley.

“Let me go.”

His grip loosened a bit, but he held fast. Slowly, he turned her hand until her open palm was exposed. He bent his head, his eyes never leaving hers. And then he pressed a kiss to her hand.

“Jesus taught that we should turn the other cheek,” he said.

He released her so quickly after that that Haley stumbled. By the time she got her bearings, the door had clicked closed behind him.

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