Undercover Campus Crusade
By Grantland
ush began the first of August, just a couple of weeks before class. I didn’t want to go back to campus early, but then again, I was glad to leave home. Mom and Dad had tried their best to convince me not to pledge a fraternity, and their vain efforts continued until I backed my car out the drive and waved out the window. Three hours later I checked in at the hotel and followed a sign to a large seminar room. There I found a few tables set up and fifty side-parts or so lined in front. I was nervous, like most of the guys there, but not because I was worried about getting in. I was worried about being found out. I signed the check-in sheet, got my nametag, and went to my room to settle in. I opened the door and found my roommate watching TV. We traded introductions and began talking. “So you’re a sophomore?” he asked. “Why’d you wait a year?”
R
8
J. Rollins
“Didn’t know if it was right for me,” I said, eyeing the floor. “The good thing is, I know what all the houses are like.” It would be the first lie of many. The truth was, I hadn’t set foot in a single house. I didn’t even drink. Hell, I still asked girls permission to side-hug. “What about you?” I asked. “Why are you joining?” He sighed. “My dad did it. He was a Pike. I’ll be one too.” I nodded, wondering how long to wait for an opening to talk to him about God. An hour? All evening? What if no openings appeared the whole weekend? This question— how to righteously yet respectfully seduce— was one of the most tormented of my young Christian life. And then it hit me. The reason I was pledging was to stop waiting for these mystical moments. I’d already sat silently and hopefully for years with nothing to show for it. The time to attack was now. “Actually,” I said, “I chose to join because… are you familiar with Romans 6:23?”
THE MOCKINGBIRD
“Painted Mask 2,” 2016, dye sublimation print on aluminum, by Roe Ethridge. Courtesy the artist and Andrew Kreps Gallery, New York.
