Brother Randy Robert hovered near the door to the conference room, greeting the prospective members with handshakes and gestures to the stacks of materials on one table and the platter of cookies and bowl of fruit on another. After sharing a few words with a new pair of arrivals, he glanced over at the short girl who had come early. She was still browsing through the cabinet of reference books, reading the jackets and peeking at the tables of contents.
Just then a teenage girl dashed in carrying a basket of strawberries.
“Welcome!” he said.
“Hi,” she said a little nervously. “I’m Liberty.”
“Come in, Liberty. Take one from each stack on that table, and help yourself to a snack if you’d like. Are those from Sarah’s garden?”
“Uh... yes, they are!” she said, realizing he was referring to the strawberries.
Liberty took a good look at the man who had greeted her. He was nice looking, but at nearly thirty, he was a little older than she preferred.
“May I have one?” he asked.
“Um...
sure!”
He picked out a small one. “Mmmmm! So much tastier than store-bought!”
Liberty smiled. She was already beginning to feel comfortable with the leader of the first evaluation meeting — and after recent events, she was glad.
He had to turn his attention to more adults who were arriving, so Liberty got herself the printed materials, a pad of paper, a pen, and two cookies. As she sat down in an empty seat near the back, she noticed a boy coming in. He looked seventeen or eighteen, and fairly cute, but somehow... inexperienced.
That was okay — Liberty had taught several boys their first lessons in the art of loving.
Just then Sister Sarah dashed in and ran right up to the boy Liberty had been eyeing.
“Good luck!” Sarah said, and then they hugged each other. The eight-year-old dashed out as quickly as she had come.
Liberty felt green. But she knew with absolute certainty that she dared not tangle with Sister Sarah again. So instead of letting herself feel jealous, she just put the cute boy out of her mind and opened her workbook to see what was inside.
A few minutes later Brother Randy Robert closed the door and stood in front of the assembled group. “Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the Pacific Northwest, if you have journeyed from other parts of the globe. And of course welcome to this place called Lyceum. My co-facilitator is Sister Joan...”
The curly-haired blond girl of about fifteen who was sitting near him rose and looked embarrassed. But she had a very pretty smile, Shawn thought to himself.
The short girl’s hand went up.
“Yes?” Brother Randy Robert said. “Please tell me your name again.”
“I’m Ashley. Is Sister Clairebeth okay?”
“Sister Clairebeth is in Africa right now. As far as I know she’s in good health, but she’s up to her ears in diplomatic problems to solve.”
“Thanks,”
Ashley
said.
“Well, well,” he said, looking at a list. “I have a whopping thirty-two in my group, and all but one are present and accounted for.”
At that moment Sarah slipped in the door and handed Joan a note.
“We just found our missing person,” the fifteen-year-old said. “She was on a flight from Boise to Eugene, the plane had engine trouble and had to land in Burns, she got a bus to Bend, but the next scheduled bus won’t get her here
until noon tomorrow.”
“Hmm,” Brother Randy Robert said, considering. “She’d miss orientation tonight, the service tomorrow, and lots of material on religions. That’s too much.”
“Yeah — I’d hate to miss that much,” the young co-facilitator said.
“Well, since you received the note, I’ll let you handle the situation. Do you think a flight over to Bend to pick her up is warranted?”
“Gosh,” Sister Joan said with an unsure look on her face. “Isn’t that pretty expensive in fuel and stuff?”
“Yes, but there are many people around tonight, and I bet you could fill the extra seats with people who’d love an evening flight over the mountains, with dessert in the mall over there included, which is the best place to make our pick-up anyway.”
Sister Joan looked at the note again and considered. All of the prospective members watched and listened with interest. “She did make a very good effort to get here. I think we should do it.”
“You have as much authority to make that decision as I do,” Brother Randy Robert said.
Liberty’s mouth fell open.
“I’ll go set it up,” the teenage member said.
As soon as she left the room, Brother Randy Robert addressed the group.
“The situation you just witnessed illustrates one of Lyceum’s unique qualities.
You will study and discuss that quality in more detail on... let me see...
Wednesday. But since it happened before your eyes, I’m sure you’re curious how a fifteen-year-old who has only been a member for a year could make a decision that will cost us hundreds, possibly thousands of dollars, utilizing a vehicle worth millions of dollars. It’s simple — she used her considerable intelligence to realize that a good member is worth far more than a few gallons of jet fuel, and if we don’t stand beside that person now, in her moment of need, there is a good chance of losing her — or at least losing her enthusiasm and potential loyalty. At Lyceum, an intelligent response to a unique situation, tempered by consultation with others — in this case me —
has priority over rule books. We do have what you might call rule books, but they are for presenting guidelines and recording past experiences, and do not
substitute for clear thinking.”
One lady in the room seemed almost offended by what had happened, and proceeded to argue with Brother Randy Robert, saying something about standard operating procedures and accounting controls. Ashley wasn’t really listening. She was starting to remember the things that had been said at the last evaluation week about decision making, and now, seeing an example, it was all starting to fit together for her. And it reminded her of the role she had played at the Special Olympics in Pierre, South Dakota. The chairwoman of the coordinating committee had loved it because it worked, and hated it because it was Ashley’s idea. At Lyceum, she now realized, making those kinds of decisions was okay.
“...so what we need to do,” the facilitator was saying in an attempt to conclude the argument with the lady, “is to refresh our memory about this week’s purpose. Even though Lyceum is changing all the time, you are going to have to let us evaluate you, and you are going to have to evaluate us, based on the way Lyceum is today, not on what you would like it to be.”
“Well, that’s the most undemocratic attitude I’ve ever heard!” the lady said, and quickly walked out of the room.
Brother Randy Robert let the silence linger for a minute. Then he spoke slowly and solemnly. “The only valid reason for becoming a member of Lyceum is to be of service to humanity, in some of the many ways that Lyceum does that. If your purpose is to impose your will upon Lyceum, then you have come to the wrong place. There are thousands of organizations out there that engage in what I call ‘the marketplace of egos,’ existing primarily so that persons can vie for position and status. Please feel free to join one of those organizations. At Lyceum, there is no place for that. We have too much to do.”
A very personal nerve was being struck for Shawn. He realized that his father, the famous Reverend Tommy Mitchell, lived by ego first, and somewhere, way down the list, was service. He swallowed hard, and hoped that for him, service would come first and ego would be way down the list. He desperately hoped...
Soon Sister Joan, whom Liberty had met and decided she liked during her first few days at Lyceum, returned to the conference room and shared with
her co-facilitator that the flight had been nearly filled by a group of executives from San Francisco and would be lifting off in a few minutes. The stranded prospective member had made arrangements to get to the mall in Bend, and would be able to join the group that evening. There was a murmur of compliments from the group.
Next Brother Randy Robert went over all the ground rules for the week, and Sister Joan walked them through the schedule. Ashley found that it was similar, but not quite the same as during her first evaluation week.
“And now that you know basically what we’re doing, it’s time to share a little about yourselves,” the fifteen-year-old co-facilitator said. “Each of you gets to make a little speech, and it should include your first name, your home town, your profession, your favorite hobby, and what you like the most about Lyceum.”
There was a minute of silence during which some people looked around to see who was going to go first, and others made notes on their tablets. A clean cut man of about twenty-five stood.
“I’m Ron, and I’m from Los Angeles. I was a real estate salesman, but I hope to leave most of that behind me.” Mumbles of agreement. “I love sailing, and so if I become a member, you’ll find me on the Columbia River on my days off.” Noises of mutual interest from a couple of others. “I think what I like about Lyceum most is the fact that it is, just like Randy Robert said, service oriented. As I understand it, if you are willing and able to serve, you can, and your needs will be taken care of.”
A brief applause.
“Hi, everyone! I’m Ashley from Rapid City, South Dakota. My profession is gymnastics... and also some French interpreting. I guess my favorite hobby is playing computer games... but hiking is really fun too. I like Lyceum because it’s given me the chance to learn new things and discover that I had skills I didn’t know about before.”
Again,
applause.
“I am Ludmilla, and I come from Kirov, Russia,” the pretty lady who stood next said in a thick accent. “I am... how do you say... administrator. I like very much skiing, on the snow. And I like Lyceum because all people in the world can together do things.”
A hearty applause.
“I’m Shawn. The only thing I’ve done that you could call work was that I volunteered in the Gospel Light Mission in my home town of Greenville, South Carolina. I guess my hobby is reading the Bible, but I’ve started to read other inspired books too. I like Lyceum because its people are there when you need them. I was glad when Sister Joan decided to help the missing prospective member get here. They had to shuttle me all the way across the country, and it took five days!”
Applause, and sounds of surprise. Liberty decided he wasn’t her type after hearing about his volunteer work and his hobby. After several more people had taken their turns, she gathered her courage.
“Hello, I’m Liberty. The work I’ve done the most is taking care of horses.
I’m from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. I’ve started a new hobby recently that I think I like a lot. I’m learning to bake. If any of you had a cinnamon roll in the Dining Hall today, I made them.” Noises of appreciation from several who obviously had partaken. “The thing I like most about Lyceum...” She stopped, almost choked with emotions. After a moment she tried again. “The thing I like most about Lyceum is that they care enough to not let you get away with doing the wrong thing, and they’ll stand beside you while you learn to do the right thing.”
A tremendous applause, as most of those present recognized the emotional effort that had gone into her words.
After all the rest of the prospective members had given their speeches, the facilitator stood. “My name is Randy Robert, and I’m from Prince George, British Columbia. I’m a medical doctor, and I dearly love singing in the choir here at Lyceum, as I did in my church back home. I think my favorite thing about Lyceum is how it manages to surprise anyone who comes here with preconceptions, no matter what those preconceptions are.”
Again, Shawn thought of his father.
“Now it’s my turn, I guess,” the co-facilitator said nervously. “I’m Joan.
Um... oh yeah... I’m from Santa Fe, New Mexico. Um... I work in the Lodge and the Chemistry Lab, and my favorite hobby is fantasy role playing games.
Whew!”
Several people chuckled at her nervousness during the very activity she
had initiated.
Brother Randy Robert talked about the reference books available in the mobile supply cabinet and took a few questions. By that time eight o’clock had arrived, so he announced a break for snacks and other needs.
Shawn immediately approached Ashley, who was in the process of checking a book out of the reference cabinet.
“Me and my friend Sarah are going to get some ice cream when the session’s over. Would you like to join us? My treat.”
“Gosh... sure! A small serving. Oh wait, Tabitha and Karen — they’re the other gymnasts here — were gonna meet me...”
“They can come too!”
“Great! Can I invite the black-haired girl? I think her name’s Libby.”
“Yeah, I was gonna do that, but you can for me.”
Just as Ashley was heading over to where Liberty was sitting on a table munching cookies and flipping through her workbook, the tall, black-haired girl looked up at the ceiling, listening intently.
“What is it?” Ashley asked, also looking up.
“Rotor blades. The eight seat Taurus R5000 helicopter, I think. Can you hear it?”
Ashley listened. “No. You must have good ears.”
“It’s in the port building... it just touched down... the pilot just shut down the jet engines.”
“Gosh... I didn’t even know helicopters had jet engines!” Ashley said, feeling in awe of the other’s knowledge. You’re Libby?”
“Liberty.”
“Liberty... me and Shawn — the guy over there — and our companions are all getting together for ice cream afterwards. Join us? Your companion can come too.”
Liberty wondered if Shawn’s companion was Sister Sarah. Oh, well. It didn’t look like Liberty was going to be able to avoid the young member. And besides, she had offered to be friends, and Sarah had, to Liberty’s amazement, accepted. “Sounds like fun. Brenda and I were probably just gonna talk. I’ve had a rough week. Hey, do you really interpret French?”
“A little. I made fifty bucks, plus meals, on the train here. What made
your week rough?”
Liberty felt a little tweaked that Ashley had just come out and asked. But she reminded herself that she had opened the door — she must have wanted to talk about it with someone. She had already made one enemy... maybe it was time to make a friend. She looked at the floor. Ashley hopped onto the table beside her.
“It was a stupid thing I did. An old habit of mine. Surviving on the streets in a big city, you learn to go on the offensive, you know, punch before you get punched.”
“Uh huh,” Ashley said, trying to show she understood, even though she had never done it.
“I called Sister Sarah a pretty bad name. That was before I knew she was on the evaluation team and all.”
“From what I’ve heard, you can’t really hide anything from Sister Sarah, or her mentor Sister Rachael. That’s why they’re always on the team. They got us up at four in the morning last time, and that was in December!”
“You mean, you’ve been through evaluation here before?”
It was Ashley’s turn to look at the floor. Sister Heather had said it would be wisest not to talk about her first evaluation with the new prospective members. And Ashley had thought it would be embarrassing anyway. But Liberty was bearing her soul. When someone did that, it always made Ashley want to do the same.
“Um... yeah. I guess you’d say I flunked out the first time. Too sure of myself. Spent too much time in the gym playing. But they assigned me some things to do, and then gave me a second chance, so I won’t be at the ice cream thing very long tonight ‘cause I want to start reading this book I checked out.”
“Can you give me any pointers?”
“Sure. Don’t let things fly over your head. If you don’t understand something, ask someone. That’s why we have contact persons and companions. I thought I could just join Lyceum, do a few chores, and get to use the gym. Wrong! You have to understand, and be willing to do your part, in everything Lyceum does.”
Liberty thought for a moment. “Hey, thanks. Want a strawberry? Sister Sarah grew them.”
“Thanks!” Ashley said, wondering how Liberty had acquired them if she and Sarah were on bad terms. “You know, maybe you and I can help each other out. Sort of... quiz each other on the stuff we’re learning...?”
Liberty began to feel like she really was gaining a friend. Just a few hours before she had felt like an untouchable. Her spirits were mending. “Okay! I know I’ll need help with the religion stuff.”
“My weakness is the science stuff. I feel a little better about International Services after visiting the U.N. and learning French.”
At that moment Sister Sarah entered with a lady at her side. The facilitators greeted them and names were exchanged.
“You have no idea how surprised I was when I discovered I was being picked up at the mall by helicopter! I actually saw the thing land, and a bunch of people got out, but didn’t think it had anything to do with me. Then this sweet little girl here hops out, looks at all the people who had gathered to watch the landing — close to a hundred of them, I think — and walks straight up to me!”
“You just looked like the only person there who needed a ride to Lyceum!”
Sarah said.
“Well, thank you so much, Honey!”
“I’ve already told her most of the stuff she missed, except about reference books,” Sarah said.
“Thank you, Sarah,” Brother Randy Robert said.
The session reconvened, and both facilitators took turns going over all the mechanics of evaluation week, such as meals, lodging, health care, and recreation. There were more questions, and finally at 9:15 the facilitators made a few suggestions about possible uses of their free time and said good night. Randy Robert stayed to tell the new lady about the book cabinet, and Shawn, Ashley, and Liberty all hurried into the lobby to find Sarah, Tabitha, Karen, and Brenda waiting for them. Tabitha and Karen were in their leotards.
After some introductions, with all seven young people in good spirits, they headed for the Dining Hall, where Shawn selected a big table. They all picked out their favorite dessert, except that the gymnasts split a small strawberry sundae three ways.
“I’m starting to get the feeling that you guys are serious about gymnastics.
You don’t just do it for fun now and then, do you?” Liberty commented as the trio savored the few spoonfuls of ice cream that each received.
Sarah giggled. She knew the titles they held.
“What’s funny?” Shawn asked.
The three gymnasts looked at each other. “Should we tell them?” Karen said.
The other two nodded.
Karen spoke first. “Oregon State, bronze medal. Nationals, fifth on floor exercise, ninth on bars.”
Shawn’s eyes were getting bigger.
Tabitha spoke. “Nationals, sixth all-around.”
Liberty’s mouth was opening.
Ashley completed the revelations. “South Dakota State, gold medal.”
The respect that both Liberty and Shawn felt for the three younger girls was greatly increased after hearing of their medals and places. In addition, Liberty experienced a twinge of inadequacy, remembering that she had just begun a friendship with Ashley, and that even though her own I.Q. was almost immeasurable, her only accomplishment to date had been to successfully care for three horses for a year. It just didn’t sound like much in comparison.
Then something clicked into place for Liberty. She had, she realized, just learned a lesson about that exact sort of thing. Sarah was better than her at some things, even though she was younger. It looked now like Ashley would fit into the same category. Maybe all the younger kids at Lyceum were like that. Oh, well, Liberty, time to tuck away your pride and go on with life... or go to Texas.
Shawn’s struggle was different. He knew he was attracted to the tall, black-haired girl from Philadelphia. He could also tell that she was about the least religious person he had ever met. He instantly knew what his father would have said about the situation — that the girl had been sent by the Devil to snare him. But after a few minutes of eating his ice cream and sharing in the light conversation that was bouncing around the table, Shawn thought of another way to look at it that made much more sense to him — perhaps the Devil had arranged the temptation, but that didn’t mean that the black-haired
girl was herself in league with the Evil One.
Ashley watched closely the dynamics that were unfolding between Liberty and Sister Sarah. She could tell that those two were going to have a hard time becoming true friends. She wondered what kind of situation would bring them to the point of really being able to trust each other...
Sunday morning brought a light rain which was just ending as Shawn sat with the evaluation group and watched the inspirational service unfold on the floor of the Ecumenical Temple. He felt, for one of the first times in his life, deeply inspired.
It was simply entitled Fruits, and began with the humble work of the farmer harvesting the produce of the Earth, giving it to his family and selling it to other people, who enjoyed its goodness in homes and restaurants. The choir sang country tunes, and a baritone narrator read passages from folk literature.
But soon Shawn realized that the theme had changed, as he watched scientists, researchers, and diplomats pulling new understandings and new devices from their flasks, books, and computers. Dancers looked on with melodramatic curiosity, and the audience became completely involved.
And then almost imperceptibly the story moved to yet another level, as the farmer, the scientist, and the diplomat, joined by ministers and monks from several different faiths, knelt at little shrines that the dancers brought out, some containing an elaborate statue and altar, others as simple as a small piece of rug. They prayed or chanted fervently, and an air of expectancy filled the Temple.
Suddenly the lighting changed, and the faces and clothing of the actors became radiant. The choir began a lively, happy tune, and an abstract holographic image formed in the air and began to move upward, an image in which each viewer seemed to see something a little different, but always something happy and wonderful..
Then the dancers returned, bringing baskets of fruits and tasty vegetables up the aisles to all the rows of people. Plums and cherries and strawberries, sweet peppers, tasty little carrots, and mild radishes. Most of the prospective members, along with many other first-time visitors to Lyceum, were surprised
by the bounty, being used to religious services in which baskets were passed for a different purpose.
When the inspirational service concluded, some people left promptly for a late breakfast, but many lingered, pondering what they had seen, listening to the choir, watching the dancers, talking softly amongst themselves. At the invitation of the actors, children wandered down to the main floor to dance and play. And whenever elderly or handicapped people were moving along the aisles unaccompanied, a Lyceum person would quickly appear at their side to offer a steadying arm.
Fruits of the earth, fruits of the mind, fruits of the spirit, Shawn thought.
Sorry, Dad, but the Devil would have a hard time busting into this place.
At lunch, which was spread out on picnic tables in a large yard near the Residential Lobby, the three youngest prospective members sat near each other, all three feeling glad of the bond they had commenced over ice cream the night before. Even Liberty was completely at ease, as she had slept deeply and well... and Sister Sarah wasn’t present.
But Liberty was not her usual talkative self. As knowledgeable as she was in most subject areas, from mathematics to history, the inspirational service in the Ecumenical Temple had just addressed, for the third time since she arrived, that part of her life which so far she had completely ignored... even avoided. But her intelligence was enough, at least, to recognize that a gap did exist in her understanding of things, even if she was far from ready to know what should fill that gap. She rolled over and over in her mind the sights, sounds, and words of the services she had witnessed as she nibbled on her roast beef, cheese, and tomato sandwich.
“How many of you have a concept of deity?” the facilitator, Sister Maria, a Spanish lady of about fifty asked as they delved into the heart of their afternoon session.
Almost every hand went up.
“How many of you are convinced of the correctness of your concept of deity?”
About half of those present raised their hands, with a few wavering up and
down undecidedly.
“One of the three fundamental missions of Lyceum is to run an all-faith religious services center. Notice that I did not say ‘run a religion.’ The two are very different. The members of Lyceum are here to create, maintain, and operate this place, a place where any religion, and any person of any religion or faith, can come to use a variety of facilities and services. There is no Lyceum Religion. There never will be.”
Ashley was paying close attention. She knew that her own faith, the Roman Catholic Church, had once considered itself a universal religion. But she also knew that there were many other religions, and many other Christian churches. She was hearing Lyceum’s point of view described to her for the second time now, and it was beginning to make sense. Lyceum knew there was really no universal religion — everyone could come there to pray, worship, and do other things. Did that mean all religions and churches were sort of like people, and Lyceum was like a roof?
“One of the most fundamental fears that most of us have is the fear of people with different beliefs and assumptions about life. Being a different religion, even a different sect, means deeply different beliefs and assumptions.
So in our civilization, we keep our religions and sects separate, and when we must come together in the workplace, or the shopping center, we avoid any religious topics or activities.”
Ashley listened intently.
“The visitors to Lyceum can easily avoid religions and cultures with which they are not comfortable. They can simply not attend any event that is not to their liking. They can simply not use any shrine or chapel that is of the wrong faith. They can simply not talk to people who aren’t the right people in their eyes. And our public worship services, like the one you saw this morning, are designed to be non-specific to any religion or culture, unless clearly titled, such as our Christmas and Passover programs.”
Sister Maria looked into the faces of her listeners before going on.
“Members do not have those luxuries. Amongst us, just about every possible religion is represented, and we must sit at table together... plan together... work together... and play together. Every morning we worship and reflect together. One morning our worship is led by a traditional Catholic who
is proud to know exactly when to sit, stand, and kneel during the mass. The next morning it is led by a New Ager who sings to his crystals.” Several people chuckled. Ashley felt a little strange about the Catholic comment. “The next by a long-haired Hindu, the next by a clean-cut Southern Baptist.” She looked around the room at the discomfort she saw in many of the prospective members. “If you are not convinced of the essential validity of every single person’s religious experience... and every single person’s religious preferences... then you would have a hard time being a member of Lyceum.”
Many questions followed. Ashley listened, but she had a question of her own, and as soon as there was a chance, she raised her hand.
“Yes,
Ashley?”
“Um... is Brother Ted around?”
“Brother Ted graduated... to whatever is beyond this life... last March. He was a good teacher...”
Ashley didn’t hear everything that Sister Maria said. Suddenly her eyes filled with tears. Even though he had been very blunt and firm, she had felt a close connection with the old man, and that was why she had selected him to do her final interview during her first evaluation week. Now he was gone. She felt like the floor had just dropped out from under her as she lowered her head into her hands.
But something was steadying her. She could feel a gentle hand on her arm, and a hand on each of her shoulders. A soft voice was speaking to her.
“...and he made a disc during his last few days among us, and he put as much of his wisdom onto it as he could. You could go to the library this evening and learn from him again...”
Ashley dug the tears out of her eyes. Sister Maria was kneeling beside her chair, a brown hand touching her arm. She looked to each side, and found that Shawn was on one side of her, and Liberty on the other.
“Um... I’m sorry. He was... a very nice man.”
“He believed in you very much, Ashley,” Sister Maria said.
“He did? I... I guess I should watch his disk tonight.”
“Are you okay now?”
“Yeah. Thanks,” she said, and then glanced at her two friends, hoping they would know how much she appreciated them being there.
When Tabitha met Ashley that evening, she was immediately informed that her charge wanted to go to the gym for awhile, but only for about half an hour, and only after viewing the disk that Brother Ted had made. They entered the Library together, and Tabitha showed Ashley how to locate the disk using a computer index. It was the first time Ashley had paid much attention to the Library, and she smiled when she realized that a microscope or a game of Candyland could be checked out as easily as a book.
As Tabitha was checking out the disk, Ashley recognized a lady sitting behind the counter.
“Hi!” Ashley said.
The brown-haired lady of about twenty-five looked up from her book covering work. “Hello!”
“Aren’t you Jennifer,” Ashley pondered, “from... I can’t remember the name... a little town in the bottom of a canyon?”
“Yes. Troy, Oregon. I remember you! Ashley, right? You’re the first person from that group I’ve seen here! How are you?”
“I’m okay. I just found out that Brother Ted passed away.”
“He was sweet, wasn’t he?”
“Yeah. He did my final interview. We’re gonna watch the disk he made.”
“Okay. See you around!” Jennifer said, smiling.
“Yeah,” Ashley said. “I hope so.”
Ashley and Tabitha entered a little viewing room which contained six comfortable chairs. Tabitha inserted the disk in a drive slot and pressed a button marked Full Program Control. The lights dimmed and Brother Ted appeared on the viewscreen, nicely dressed but looking very tired.
“Greeting, friends. I am speaking to you from a place of great peace. Even though my body lingers in your world, perhaps long enough to complete this recording, I am prepared to enter the next, and at times I can see it as clearly as I used to be able to see your world...”
The image of Brother Ted talked about many things he had seen and done during his life, and some of the things he had learned from those experiences.
At times his memories would be of recent events at Lyceum, and at other
times he would dip into his years as a diplomat, or before that as a lawyer, or before that as a teacher. Sometimes he would even share moments from his childhood.
“...and the important thing to remember is that learning is not dependent upon enjoyment. In fact, it is quite true that we mortals learn best from affliction and adversity...”
The thoughts that Brother Ted had left behind for all to hear lasted over an hour. Ashley knew she would have to listen to the recording several times to even have a hope of understanding what he had said. The girls could tell that the disk was made on several different days, and with each passing day, the elderly man looked more tired, weaker, further away, and more peaceful.
They both looked at each other with surprise when, at the very end, the image of Brother Ted asked the names of all who were in the room.
“Uh... Tabitha McDonald.”
“Ashley
Riddle.”
“I have a message for Ashley Riddle,” Brother Ted said slowly. “The program will pause so you may arrange for as much privacy as you wish.”
Ashley looked at her companion. “I don’t mind if you stay.”
Tabitha stood and pressed the Continue button on the console.
“Ashley, it was at my insistence that you were not accepted after your first evaluation week.”
Ashley could feel the painful memory of receiving the letter that had informed her of the fact.
“I am only telling you this knowing that if you have a chance to view this disk, it means that you did carry out your assignments and are back at Lyceum for another evaluation week. From the perspective you have now, perhaps you will agree that those additional experiences were very valuable to you, and you would not have wanted to miss them.”
Ashley nodded her head silently while listening.
“I saw in you a great depth of character and a great power of spirit. Much of that is still potential in you — it has not yet come to the surface. It will soon, and you will be a great asset to Lyceum and to the world. Because you have so much strength in you, your trials and your tasks will be greater than those of most people, even most people at Lyceum. That is why I insisted that
you have those additional experiences. I believe you will now agree that you are more ready to join Lyceum than you were six months ago.”
Ashley looked at Tabitha. “You’ll keep this between us, won’t you?”
Tabitha reached out and touched Ashley’s hand. “Absolutely!”
“So, farewell, Ashley Riddle,” Brother Ted continued. “Thank you for choosing me to interview you. Thank you for faithfully carrying out your assignments. And most of all, thank you for coming back. It is comforting to an old man to know that others will carry on in his place.”
The screen faded and the lights brightened. Ashley sat thoughtfully for a long minute. Tabitha quietly waited for her friend.
“Wow. He’s right. I wouldn’t have wanted to miss those assignments for anything.” She let out a deep breath and leaned back in her chair.
He was gone, but he had left as much of his wisdom as he could for people to learn from, and he had even left special words for Ashley alone. She was glad. She would never forget him, no matter what happened with the Lyceum evaluation week.
After several thoughtful minutes, the Ashley Riddle grin crept onto her face. “Is this a good time to hit the gym?”
Ashley, still in her leotard, found Liberty in the swimming pool at about nine o’clock.
“Hi,” Ashley said as Liberty finished a lap. “Want to spend some time?”
“Sure!” Liberty said.
“Where’s
Brenda?”
“She had to go to work in the Clinic. You must have been to the gym!”
“Yeah. Just enough to loosen up.”
“Teach me some gymnastics sometime?”
“Sure. But you have to teach me how to swim!”
“Deal!”
After Liberty had toweled dry at her locker, the two girls wandered out into the warm evening air and the orange glow of a sunset not long past. Even though Ashley did not relate very well to Liberty’s air of worldly experience, and Liberty had trouble with the idea that a twelve-year-old could be a friend, much less teach her something, they both knew why they were together. Both
knew they had weaknesses that could cause them to be denied membership to Lyceum.
Ashley had already had it happen once. This was her second chance, and she very much doubted they gave third chances.
Liberty had just spent the last year discovering that there were places for the gifted that offered respect and opportunities, and there were places for kids with behavior problems at which neither respect nor opportunities were part of the program. She had to choose which she was, and that choice would determine which kind of place would be available to her.
Even though both girls had theoretically atoned for the shortcomings they had brought to Lyceum, neither wanted to take any chances. And they recognized in each other, if not yet a friend, at least someone who was strong in areas where they themselves were weak.
“So...” Liberty said as they strolled along winding paths in flower gardens near the Ecumenical Temple, “...quiz me. What should I have gotten from today?”
Glancing up at the Temple, they could see by the lights glowing from the small stained glass windows and from the faint sound of music coming from within that some event was still taking place. Ashley steered them to one door. “I just want to see what it is.”
No one was attending the door as the event had begun more than an hour before, and a stack of programs sat invitingly on a small stand. A sign informed them that ordination ceremonies were taking place for the United Lutheran Church, public welcome, formal attire please. Ashley looked at Liberty’s swim suit, Liberty looked at Ashley’s leotard, and they both shook their heads and wandered on.
“Have you ever had something happen to you that you just couldn’t figure out by yourself, no matter how hard you tried?” Ashley said as they approached one of the nicely landscaped roadways that conveyed vehicles to all parts of the Lyceum campus.
Liberty considered the question. “Um... I think so. What’s over there?”
she asked, pointing at a building with long, sweeping roof lines that was not connected to the main building complex. Soft lights and lush foliage made its entryway extremely inviting.
“The mortuary, and the cemetery’s right past it. Good place to talk about religion. Let’s go!”
They dashed together across the roadway, and found that the building’s heavy wooden doors opened to their pull. The inside was roomy, with large carpeted spaces trimmed with planters. Tucked into the walls were shrines that Liberty soon realized weren’t for different religions, but instead were for different kinds of memories. The one she examined most carefully contained all the things she imagined would be in her grandmother’s house... the grandmother who had died when she was very young.
Ashley found one she could relate to — pictures and mementos of athletes from the last century. She even spotted a slightly faded photograph of the famous gymnast Olga Korbut, with an old-fashioned palm guard attached to the wall beside it. Liberty joined her, and after a moment, attempted to answer the twelve-year-old’s earlier question.
“I guess I’ve never figured out why my mom left. I’ve thought about it for years and years and years. Just doesn’t make any sense to me. Maybe it never will.”
Ashley reached out toward the old palm guard, remembering the day she had been told she couldn’t get elite training in her home town. Olga was probably still alive, but retired from gymnastics long ago. Ashley had a sense of what that felt like.
“I’ll never understand why people with gifts and skills have to fight and beg to be able to use them. I read something in one of my gymnastics magazines that made me really sad. Every year in this country there are a hundred and fifty-six girls who get medals at state championships. They are all invited to compete in the Nationals. Only about eighty ever get there. I found Lyceum, so maybe I’ll get there... someday. What about an eleven-year-old black girl in New York City, or a twelve-year-old Mexican girl in Los Angeles?”
“Or a girl from a farming state like South Dakota who doesn’t have a friend who can help her put bulletins on the Internet?” Liberty said, remembering the story Ashley had shared the evening before.
Ashley looked at Liberty. “Yeah.”
They wandered toward a pair of glass doors at the back of the building.
“So everyone has things they can’t figure out,” Ashley continued her earlier train of thought. “When I go to church, all those big, confusing questions just seem to go away. I’m part of something bigger, and there’s a purpose to it all, even though I don’t understand it yet. See what I mean?”
Liberty thought as they went downhill along a winding path that had little lights tucked amongst the plants on both sides.
“You mean, there might be some kind of good reason my mom left, even though I can’t figure it out?”
“Yeah...”
Liberty was silent for another minute. “Okay. I can buy that. But what does religion have to do with it?”
Ashley stopped dead in her tracks. It suddenly dawned on her how ignorant about the topic Liberty was. “That’s what religion is! Religion is people trying to figure out all those things that can’t be figured out any other way!”
They were in the cemetery by then. To Liberty’s surprise, it wasn’t like most modern cemeteries with plaques flat to the ground for the convenience of the lawn mowers. It had stone markers of every size and shape, and the little paths twisted and turned and went up and down little hills, forking and rejoining often.
“There!” Ashley said, pointing at a gravestone that was situated so that a pathway light allowed it to be read.
Liberty looked at it. She performed the subtraction operation involving the years on the headstone in a fraction of a second and without conscious effort, even though it involved borrowing.
“Why did she die?” Ashley asked.
Liberty sat down on the edge of the path in front of the nine-year-old’s grave. Her name had been Melissa. She, or at least her family, was Jewish.
She imagined a little girl with dark hair playing with dolls. She tried to think of what kinds of diseases a nine-year-old would get, and couldn’t think of many. “I don’t know. Car accident maybe,” she said in a helpless voice.
Ashley sat down beside her. She was wrestling with her own thoughts about Jenny back at the nursing home in Rapid City. She remembered how Jenny loved to look up at the stars. “Look!” she said, pointing up at the star-
studded sky above them. “Maybe the answer’s up there.” Then she looked back down at the grave. “Maybe Melissa knew the answer.”
There, in that quiet cemetery, with nothing but the graves and their markers, and the stars above them, the two girls’ hands met. Neither knew the answers. All they could do was walk with each other through the questions. Ashley felt completely inadequate to the task of instilling in Liberty a sense of what she felt while attending Mass, or kneeling in private prayer, both of which she had done regularly ever since her first communion at age five.
And yet Ashley’s fumbling was just what Liberty needed to begin to understand the sense of mystery that her companion was trying to convey, the sense of being very, very small in a very, very large and complex universe. She knew well how science came up with questions faster than it came up with answers, how the more that was known only seemed to show more and more clearly what a small fraction of all knowledge the human race possessed.
Suddenly Liberty glimpsed the link between science and religion, and all at once it made perfect sense that both things should be done in one place, like they were at Lyceum.
“I think...” Liberty began tentatively, “...I think science and religion are both looking for the truth, but science is looking for the part of truth we can see, and religion is looking for the part we can’t see...?”
Ashley looked at Liberty and smiled.
Eventually they said good-bye to Melissa, and wandered back toward the Mortuary and the main buildings of Lyceum, discussing as they went some of the issues that had been raised in their evaluation sessions that day about respect and tolerance of the faiths of all visitors and all members.
They could have talked for hours more, but knowing that the activities of the following day would begin at three o’clock in the morning forced them to part shortly after eleven.
Ashley didn’t tell Liberty who would be the co-facilitator of the following morning’s walk in the gardens. She figured Liberty would sleep better without that one particular piece of information.
Chapter 40: Dwindling Numbers, Growing Understandings When Sister Rachael went through the two dorms at three o’clock in the morning to wake the groggy prospective members, Ashley was worried. She knew that if Sister Rachael was there, Sister Sarah was probably waking the only member of their group who was not staying in one of the dorms. That person was Liberty.
Ashley dressed and washed her face, and emerging into the corridor, found Shawn coming out of the other dorm. They slapped hands, both yawned simultaneously, and laughed at each other. As they gathered quietly in the central lobby of the Lodge with the others, Ashley’s fears were relieved.
Coming along the wide hallway from the Main Lobby were Sister Sarah and Liberty, laughing and bumping each other, and saying something silly about cemeteries at night. Ashley grinned.
As the group began to follow Sister Rachael toward the Plaza, Shawn was troubled that two of the prospective members had refused to rise at such an
‘ungodly’ hour. He rushed to catch up with the facilitator.
“Will they be kicked out?”
“Of the evaluation group? Naa. Only extremely abrasive behavior would cause that to happen,” the late middle-aged lady said, poking into her little tin of tobacco to check her supply as they walked.
“But... they won’t be accepted, will they?”
Rachael composed her answer as they crossed the Main Lobby. “Service doesn’t always happen at the convenience of the servant. If a parishioner
were dying at one a.m., would the priest go? If an eclipse was occurring during the lunch hour, would the astronomer go out to watch? If a political leader was assassinated, would the diplomat rise at the crack of dawn in order to be present when needed?”
Shawn was thoughtful. “I see what you mean. It just doesn’t seem fair that sleeping in once would cause someone to not be accepted.”
“I sleep in sometimes too. But not when people are counting on me.
Lyceum isn’t for everyone.”
A hint of dawn light was already in the sky as they crossed the empty Plaza and entered the North American Garden. Shawn kept looking around, hoping the missing prospective members would rush to join them before the group disappeared into the winding, branching pathways. He slowed down so he would be the last to enter, but finally had to give up his concern, lest he too be left behind.
They were soon wandering into an open area that contained a number of stone structures that Shawn recognized as the temples and pyramids of the Aztecs and Mayans. It was his first glimpse of this garden, and judging by the noises and comments he heard, Shawn could tell that it was new to most of the others also. One knowledgeable lady mentioned that they were excellent reproductions, although very much scaled down. Even so, Shawn felt quite small amongst the thirty foot high pyramids and massive stone temples.
Sister Rachael sat on a large stone block and began to craft a cigarette.
“Learn what you can in this place,” was her response when others asked her what they were doing there. After hearing it twice, Shawn didn’t bother to ask the question himself.
Shawn stood in the middle of the open space and realized that the trees and stone walls had been placed so that no other gardens or building could be seen. He began to feel uneasy, and was having trouble believing that he was still in his native country. It all looked so real, as if Aztec priests in full ceremonial dress would emerge from one of the dark doorways at any moment. After a few minutes, he began to wander around the massive buildings that were intermixed with artifacts of the period and large-leafed foliage, hoping that doing so would settle his mind.
But the more he saw of the stone carvings of grotesque gods and serpents,
the murals of trade and warfare between primitive Central American peoples, and the ever-present pyramids towering over him, the more uneasy he became. After reading some of the small and discretely placed interpretive signs, he realized why.
“Sister Rachael?” he said, stepping up to her.
She exhaled the smoke she was at that moment enjoying. “Yes?”
“Didn’t these people practice human sacrifice? Why would Lyceum create gardens and shrines to remember such evil?”
She contemplated the glowing end of her cigarette for a moment. “Very little is known about these people. That in itself is very strange, considering their civilization peaked much more recently than did most others that we know so much about, such as Egypt and Rome. Even the question of human sacrifice is not well established. But let us assume it for the sake of discussion.” Three others gathered to listen. “It is a fact that every religion has at times and in places engaged in practices that we would today call evil.
Sacrifice... war... torture... genocide... corruption... selling favors... misuse of donated funds... you name it.” She glanced at Shawn to see if what she was saying was hitting home.
He was gazing off across the open area, where he could see Sarah wandering inconspicuously amongst some of the adult group members. “I guess I see what you mean,” he said. “If we excluded all religions that had skeletons in the closet, there wouldn’t be any left.”
“Exactly, but not entirely. The skeletons are part of our heritage, part of who we are. We cannot successfully move into the future without repeating our mistakes — our evils, if you will — unless we know where we’ve been, who we’ve been, what mistakes we’ve made.”
Shawn thanked Sister Rachael for her time, and ambled away, taking with him a new respect for the lady who smoked. He had never been given a simplistic or condescending answer by any Lyceum member to any question he had ever asked, and this was no exception. When he came to the next grotesque stone god, he tried to see it as a part of his heritage. It was hard at first, but then the memory of a face came to him, somehow triggered by the ugly statue before him. It was the face of his father, looking down at little Sarah, accusing her of being in league with the Devil. He closed his eyes and
shuddered, and was glad when Sister Rachael announced, a few minutes later, that they were going to move on to another garden.
The sun rose shortly after five o’clock, and a half hour later they found themselves arriving at the Picnic Area at the same time as a large food cart that contained a simple but hearty continental breakfast. Sister Rachael said nothing when the two persons who had slept in joined the group. Neither one appeared very happy with their decision as they listened to everyone else talking about their experiences and insights in the gardens.
So many people entered into discussions with Sister Rachael during breakfast that it was well after six o’clock when she finally began to explain their next activity.
“It is not easy, but we manage to let an odd corner of the campus go to pot just for the use of each evaluation group. We even assign some of our young people to scatter some trash so that the space will most accurately match an empty lot in whatever city you’d like to name.” Several people chuckled.
“Since we knew you would be an especially large group, we arranged for an especially large space for you to tackle.” One man moaned. Shawn noticed that Ashley was grinning from ear to ear.
As soon as they saw the space in question, two ladies and one man began to argue with Sister Rachael about the appropriateness of this use of their time. Sister Rachael had very little to say to them, other then to assure them that no one was forcing them to do anything. Even as this was transpiring, with about three-quarters of the group observing the debate, Ashley, Liberty, and Shawn set to work surveying the area of blackberry vines, weeds, and trash, and making an inventory of the assembled tools and materials. A few of the adults noticed and joined their effort.
“I think it should just be a blackberry picking garden,” Ashley said. “Look at all these berries that are going to ripen in a few weeks!”
“Yeah,” Shawn agreed, “we could trim all the long vines — they don’t have fruit on them anyway — clear out the weeds, and put these logs around the bushes so people will know where to trim them back to in the future.”
“And standing on the logs, people can pick higher on the bushes!” Liberty said. “We’ve got wood chips for the ground, and we can make benches out of
these boards.”
“Good idea,” the quiet man named Aaron said. “This big log can be cut for bench supports.”
“Are here... gloves, of animal skin,” Ludmilla said in her imperfect English.
“Leather?”
Liberty
suggested.
“Yes, gloves of leather. And tools for to cut plants.”
“Loppers,” Ashley said.
After one of the indignant ladies stormed off and the unhappy man announced that he would watch from the nearest bench, the other group members began to wander toward the project area, only to find that the three young people, along with Aaron and Ludmilla, had already planned the project and were hard at work.
“What should we do?” several of them asked Aaron.
“I’m just doing the log sawing,” he said. “Shawn is in charge of planning, and Liberty is doing task assignment. The basic concept was developed by Ashley.”
Somehow the idea of the three youngest group members being in charge of the project lifted the air of contention that had arisen, and Ashley soon had a crew of six or seven people in good spirits helping her to cut and drag away the unwanted blackberry vines. As soon as Ashley’s crew had cleared an area, Liberty and her twelve helpers went to work digging, pulling, and hauling the weeds and trash. Shawn and three others used rakes to smooth the ground and spread the wood chips, and Aaron had two helpers to cut and carry the log sections.
By nine o’clock most of the heavy work had been done and all those who stayed were very glad they did. A pickup truck arrived, from which ice chests and baskets of snacks were removed before two members with pitch forks began to load the unwanted vines and weeds.
During the remainder of the morning, benches were constructed and all the edging logs were stained a reddish color that perfectly complemented the green of the berry bushes. Finally, a little after eleven, they all stood back to admire their work. Aaron led a round of applause for the three young people who had planned and organized the project. The three youth were a mixture of grins, blushes, and shuffled feet.
That afternoon the group, now down to twenty-seven prospective members, began to work on their comprehensive personal resumes under the direction of a short and elderly lady named Sister Rebecca. She coaxed them to view every major event in their lives in positive terms, and she emphasized to the young ones that their experiences were just as valid as those of the adults.
But as soon as they all had made a good start on their resumes, she informed them that they had to finish during their evenings of free time. She passed out the first of six stacks of test booklets that everyone could see awaiting them on a front table.
Liberty flew through the intelligence test, but could see that Ashley was sweating. The values clarification test was fun for Shawn, but Liberty was nearly in tears. The psychological profile had all three of them on edge, but Ashley thoroughly enjoyed the personality profile. The educational development test was familiar to all of them, but the vocational and career aptitude survey left all three young people feeling very inexperienced. Shortly after five o’clock the entire group dragged themselves to the Dining Hall, their brains fried by the effort they had all put into the tests.
That evening was free time. Shawn worked on his personal resume and read part of a book he had checked out from the reference cabinet that described Lyceum from the points of view of several different religious and political leaders. Liberty watched a movie with Brenda and Sarah, and afterwards put several questions to them about the leadership of Lyceum. She was surprised to learn that there was no single leader or figurehead; but somehow it made sense. Ashley spent an hour in the gym with Tabitha, but then found a quiet lounge where she began to read A Brief History Of Communes And Utopias — And Why They Fail.
By ten o’clock all three were yawning and getting ready for bed, as were most of the other prospective members.
After a leisurely breakfast on Tuesday morning, Sister Sheena, a large Native American lady of at least fifty, led them toward the Scientific Research
Complex.
“I understand today is Recovery Day,” she said to those in the group who were walking near her.
“Yesterday
was very trying,” a man said. “Up at three, garden clean-up project, and all those tests!”
“Yes,” Sister Sheena agreed. “We put the tough stuff earlier in the week this time so the group would have less... how do I say this... excess baggage when the more interesting stuff rolled around. You’re down to twenty-four, I see.”
“You mean it’s downhill from here?” a lady asked with relief.
“I think most people would agree with that. But there’s still another project coming up, and role plays can be tough. And I don’t know of anyone who likes self-evaluations and final interviews on Saturday. But they’re necessary.”
They arrived at the Planetarium Theater and she ushered them in. “Please sit in Section A to help preserve my vocal chords. I hate using amplification for a small group — it’s too impersonal.”
They entered the completely circular theater with its black carpeting and dark blue reclining seats, and found that they only half filled Section A, and there were four other sections of the same size. Liberty quickly calculated that the room would hold about two hundred and fifty people. As they settled into the plush seats and leaned back, each person found that they had a clear view of the entire display dome over their heads, which was currently aglow with a pleasing mixture of pastel colors.
“As you can see,” Sister Sheena said, closing the entry doors, “this is a private showing. The place will be hopping with several bus loads of school kids at ten o’clock, so we have to be out by then. Let’s get started.
Preliminary questions?”
“Are you a scientist?” one lady asked.
“Yes. My doctoral degree is in physics, but you can just as easily find me in the Earth Sciences lab or the Astronomy lab. My current research is aimed at looking for fractal patterns in the distribution of galaxies. I call it, informally, God’s Wallpaper.”
Everyone
chuckled.
“Do all members have access to the laboratories?” a man asked.
“Yes. Of course we all have other responsibilities, and our use of lab space, equipment, and supplies must be reasonably tailored to the importance of our research. But whenever I have free time, you’ll usually find me in one of the labs, as opposed to a tavern or a shopping mall.”
Several
chuckled.
“Okay, let’s view the program I have picked out for you. It’s fairly light and simple, but will serve several purposes. First of all, it will show you what the theater can do. A Nova 200 running the General Knowledge Processor coordinates the data feeds to eight frontal, four rear, and three holographic projectors, as well as a multi-phased quadraphonic sound system and environmental controls that can do everything from simulate a mild earthquake to blow a warm, floral scented tropical breeze in your faces.
“Second, you will glimpse many concepts from the realms of physics, astronomy, chemistry, even biology. Some of my fractal work in physics is in there.
“Third, and most importantly, it will give you a sense of Lyceum’s mission of integrating the essential truth-seeking institutions of our civilization — in other words, science that leaves room for God... or is it religion that leaves room for logic...?”
With those words the lights dimmed and the prospective members found themselves witnessing scenes that few of them had ever seen before, beginning with the sub-atomic energy particles assembling themselves into the atoms of matter, and those assembling themselves into the molecules of the physical and biological world. All these things even Ashley knew from school, but here they were happening in mid-air, before their eyes, so close that the watchers felt sure they could reach out and touch the mysterious particles. Of the three youth, only Liberty had seen any presentation of a similar quality.
But unlike their school science lessons, the program produced at Lyceum showed several possible explanations for those parts of the process that were poorly understood, including the Gods and angels themselves planning and initiating the molecular patterns.
Then they witnessed the creation of the stars and galaxies, and saw the
beautiful patterns they formed that just might be the signature of Deity.
Watching closely, they found the same signature in flowers and seashells, pine cones and crystals, microbes and atoms.
As the program neared its end, their seats all moved slowly to an upright position. In the center of the room a globe of the Earth about eight feet across rose into view and turned slowly on its axis. The dome overhead had darkened to a star-studded velvety blackness, and tiny satellites and space stations could be seen in orbit.
The program ended with the launching of a huge spaceship, a starship, upon which could be seen the symbol of the United Nations. It circled the Earth twice, and then headed out toward the stars, accompanied by numerous dancing angels whose singing could be faintly heard.
When the starship was only a speck indistinguishable from the stars and galaxies, the Earth dimmed and lowered itself out of sight as the theater house lights slowly brightened.
There were many questions about the production they had just witnessed, some technical and some philosophical. Shawn was listening with part of his mind, but the remainder was still marveling at what he had seen, experiencing total delight at the sheer beauty of God’s creation... and feeling a twinge of anger that he had been guided away from it all his life. A decision began to enter his consciousness, and it continued to form for the rest of the day.
At the group’s request, Sister Sheena ran two more short programs, one that exclusively used the Earth globe for a geology lesson, and one that was pure entertainment, with holographic projections of all manner of fantasy creatures frolicking and dancing to music that seemed to be constantly changing its location and combination of instruments and voices. Ashley found herself almost standing up to dance when a grinning Wood Sprite reached out a hand in her direction. The Sprite reminded her of Tim, and she resolved to call him that very evening.
There were a few more questions about the theater, this time centering around the possibility of artists and teachers making use of it who didn’t have much computer knowledge. Sister Sheena assured them that the computer system was very forgiving, and there were always members who were willing to help.
“Remember,” she said, “Lyceum could have required forty hours of work each week from its members, just like the rest of the world does. Then we’d all get through with our responsibilities and be tired. Having energy left over for joyful service, creativity, mentoring, teaching, worship and reflection, and helping others without worrying about compensation — all those things take time.”
As ten o’clock was approaching, they vacated the Planetarium Theater just as the first school kids came running down the corridor. Sister Sheena steered the evaluation group into a nearby classroom, which was obviously arranged and supplied for science classes. Shawn wandered around, looking at all the charts on the walls, the reference materials, supplies for simple experiments, and all the photographs and models of interesting things. And he remembered with resentment the letter from his father to his school that had exempted him from his high school science classes... on religious grounds.
“Scientific research at Lyceum happens on many different levels,” Sister Sheena began after everyone had settled into chairs, “and of course in many fields. As we discussed earlier, members have just about unlimited access.
Other individuals who just want to try out an idea, do a little experiment, tinker a bit if you will, are always welcome, as long as the facilities have not been reserved for more formal activities. Schools make constant use of the facilities and resources for educational purposes. We had pre-schoolers in the Earth Sciences lab yesterday, and I’m working with a group from the University tomorrow.”
Liberty smiled at the thought of toddlers studying geology.
“And of course we get lots of requests for serious research, especially because of the other facilities we can offer in addition to the scientific facilities themselves. When a research group arrives, they need lodging, meals —
sometimes catered right to the lab — Recreation Center access, library use, and as often as not they make use of our video production facilities, graphic arts studio, word processing, publishing, computer programming, a dedicated SatLink for high-volume data transmission... you name it. And, of course, it’s comforting to the senior scientists to have the Healing Arts Clinic so close.”
Shawn’s decision continued to form in his mind. He wanted, he needed to
know God’s universe as it had been handed to humanity, and no longer to avoid seeing it just because it was not, of itself, spiritual.
“And more and more we’re finding that prominent scientists choose to come to Lyceum so that they can be near places of inspiration — our many shrines, chapels, gardens, lounges, nature trails... some even go over to the zoo and talk to the animals when they need a break.”
The entire room chuckled. Shawn tried to imagine doing research in a sterile laboratory without even a chapel nearby. The thought was not at all appealing.
“Generally, members who have scientific knowledge or interest spend some of their assigned work time in the labs as reference technicians, or in the museum helping to prepare exhibits, or preparing and presenting shows in the Planetarium Theater. There are also the greenhouses, gardens, and pastures at the Demonstration Farm and Zoo that are partly an extension of the Biology Lab. And sometimes members are assigned as special aides to scientific conferences or major research projects.”
A picture was starting to form for Shawn, an image of himself working in the labs, assisting the scientists in their research, doing experiments and demonstrations for school children. And a smile was creeping onto his face.
After lunch they entered the laboratories, and in each one a member who was on duty gave them a tour and answered their questions. Shawn discovered that all of the labs that required clean-room procedures interconnected for the convenience of those needing to pass between them.
Others were separated by necessity even though their functions were similar: the Biochemistry and Medical lab was a clean room, but the Biology lab next door, with its potting soils and animal cages, could be entered directly.
The group spent an entire hour in the museum and the nearby preparation rooms, as a team from a university was putting together a new exhibit on the cyclical mass extinctions that had been mysteriously recurring all through Earth’s history. Shawn thought of Noah, and realized that even though God had promised not to do it again, He hadn’t said anything about how many times He had done it in the past.
Finally, as dinner time approached, they briefly explored the Research
Library. Liberty was glad that she could lead Shawn and Ashley right to its many points of interest. Shawn found the religion section amazingly well stocked — far better stocked than his father would have liked. Ashley found a thick section on Gymnastics, including books in Russian that she couldn’t read but which contained a wealth of pictures and diagrams. But she reminded herself that she was already reading a book, the one she had checked out from the reference cabinet. Gymnastics would have to wait.
After quickly eating dinner, clearing her dishes, and excusing herself, Ashley dashed to the Main Office.
“I was wondering if I could make a long distance phone call...” she said, digging in her little purse.
“Sure, Ashley!” Sister Samantha said. “But you can put away your money.
It’s the least we can do for a young person putting their whole heart and soul into evaluation week. I remember how hard mine was!”
“Really? I thought I was the only one sweating.”
Samantha laughed. “Do they have video?” she asked, leading Ashley toward the telecommunications booths.
“Uh... I don’t know. Maybe. It’s my boyfriend, in New Orleans.”
“Wow! That’s special. Well, since there are two video booths free, I’ll put you in one, and maybe you’ll be lucky.”
They entered the tiny room with three chairs grouped around the televideo console. Sister Samantha tapped an account code into the keypad. “Is fifteen minutes enough?”
“Yeah. I have to get back to the group by then anyway.”
The member closed the door behind her and Ashley quickly keyed in Tim’s number. A moment later a teenage girl appeared on the screen with a very fancy house in the background.
“Hello?” she said in an accent similar to Tim’s.
“Hi. Is Tim there?”
“Well, my, my. You must be Ashley! Hey, he didn’t do too bad. Is it true that you’re a champion gymnast?”
“Last year,” Ashley said.
“Totally excellent. I laughed so hard when my mom was running around
worrying about you being pregnant! I figured out that I knew Tim better than she did. Anyway, hold on and I’ll get him! Tim! It’s Ashley!”
Ashley could hear him running along a floor and down a stair before he came into view. He was in his dance tights. She found herself wishing she was wearing her leotard.
“Hi, Ashley! They have televideo there?”
“Of course! They have everything here. Jeez, it’s good to see you. I... I wish so much I could be with you...” Ashley’s voice was beginning to tremble.
“Hey... don’t cry. Look, I’m still wearing it!”
Ashley wiped her eyes with a tissue from a box sitting beside the console.
Tim was holding his half of the broken coin out from his neck for her to see.
“Me too,” she said, digging her necklace out.
“Is it going okay? Do you think you’ll get in?”
“Um... I’m trying my hardest. I’m not going to the gym much so I’ll have time to read and ask questions and stuff.”
“Neat! I know you’ll get in, I just know it,” he said.
“You’re so fantastically sweet. You know, even if I don’t make it, it’s nice to know that I’ll still be promised to you.”
“And I’ll still be promised to you. And I won’t think much of Lyceum if they don’t accept you!” he said in earnest.
“Don’t say that! Lyceum’s a fantastic place. It’s just that... you have to be ready to learn a lot and give a lot to be a member, and I’m only twelve.”
“Would you be the youngest one?”
“Nope. There’s an eight-year-old girl here who makes most grown-ups look like dorks!”
“Wow! Actually, I know lots of grown-ups who are dorks.”
Ashley giggled. Then she saw the clock on the console change to 5:57. “I have to go. Two more hours of stuff tonight.”
“Hey. I love you.”
“I love you too!” Ashley said as her eyes filled with water. She reached out to touch the display screen, but it was just cold plastic. “Bye!” she whispered.
“Bye!” Tim whispered back.
She pressed the Reset key and dashed out of the booth to rejoin the evaluation group, taking her tissue with her.
That evening a tall bald man, Brother Ben, showed the group all the different recreational opportunities at Lyceum. He was a swimming instructor, and so they spent considerable time in the Water Sports Pavilion, but they also visited all of the other parts of the Recreation Center, as well as the outdoor fields and trails.
Before saying good night, Brother Ben walked them through the Residence Halls where they were able to observe game playing groups, sewing and craft groups, several movies in progress, and a group gathered around a campfire to roast marshmallows and sing songs.
As Ashley and Liberty walked back toward the Main Lobby together to meet their companions, they both agreed that Shawn looked happier than on previous days, as if he had just found something that he had been seeking for a long time.
“Good morning!” Brother Howard said as the evaluation group gathered in the Residential Lobby at 6:15 in the morning.
Shawn figured the man was about forty-five, and he looked extremely strong, and at the same time very gentle. There always seemed to be at least a partial smile on his face, even when he was talking. But it was not the kind of ever-present smile that made others think he was laughing at them — it was just a smile of contentment. Shawn immediately liked the man.
“Twenty-three of you? That’s a nice number. I welcome you to phase two of your evaluation experience. Starting this morning, you will be attending worship and reflection, eating meals, and doing chores in the Dining Hall right along with the four hundred and eight members who are currently on campus, unless a special group function conflicts.”
A hand went up. “What kind of work do you do here?”
“Thank you for asking. It is a common Lyceum failing to forget to tell others something about ourselves because of all our privacy ethics. I am a stone cutter, a concrete sculptor, a zookeeper, and a Chiropractor. I make headstones for the cemetery, stone and concrete things for the gardens and shrines, I work with our large animals, and I adjust people’s bones and muscles. The zookeeping is mostly on my own time, as a hobby.”
“Thanks,” the asker said.
It was only at this point that Shawn realized Brother Howard was never quite looking directly at the person he was talking to.
“This morning we will be joining Avalon — that’s the name of one of the residence halls — for their worship and reflection time. This particular worship will be very interesting because it will be led by a man who practices a minority religion. It is easy to lead something when all the participants believe exactly as you do. It is a much greater task to lead when diversity exists. Pay close attention to the way Brother Timoteo phrases things so that those present feel invited to make whatever use of the experience they wish, as opposed to feeling that they are being made to believe or agree to something that they have not, on their own, chosen. And before we go in I would like you to know that Brother Timoteo holds United Nations level eight full diplomatic clearance. His skills as a mediator and negotiator are in demand all over the world, and so he is away from the campus much of the time. I suggest you learn from him all you can this morning.”
As the group began to head for the indicated exit door, Shawn continued to watch their facilitator with interest. By the time everyone was out the door, he had seen Brother Howard judge the distance to a certain wall based on the location of a piece of furniture, and pause to let a knot of people pass based on the sounds they made. Shawn realized the man was completely blind. His admiration for the sculptor, Chiropractor, and zookeeper soared, especially as he had not chosen to reveal his handicap to the group, and so was getting no special consideration from anyone.
As they all found seats around the meeting circle in the middle of the main floor of Avalon Hall, Liberty counted seventy-five persons present, in addition to the evaluation group, and more were still arriving. She knew the halls only held about sixty people, so she guessed that others were also there especially to learn from Brother Timoteo.
He soon arrived, carrying a small wooden box. The lady beside Liberty squirmed in her seat and mumbled something less than nice. Brother Timoteo stepped to the center of the assembled group, his long golden hair flowing over his broad shoulders. He sat on the floor before the small table that was there, and brought a beautiful cluster of quartz crystals out of his
box. As he held it up, it caught the light and sparkled. He sat silently for awhile, and all of the members present became quiet and thoughtful. Most members of the evaluation group attempted to do the same.
“This magnificent work of nature lay hidden in a mountain for millions of years, covered by layers and layers of less beautiful material.” He placed the cluster of shining crystals on the table. “Likewise, in each of us there are beautiful gifts and powerful skills that lie hidden. The crystal grows slowly, deep inside the Earth, adding to its substance molecule by molecule. Our gifts and skills slowly grow inside us, experience by experience, decision by decision.”
He let several moments pass before he went on. Liberty found herself wondering what gifts and skills were hidden inside herself.
“Our senses of sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch allow us to know what is happening on the outer layers of ourselves. These outer layers are important. Without the outer layers of the mountain, the crystal would not have grown. But the outer layers are temporary. They are constantly being weathered away. There comes a day when the toddler leaves his rattle behind, when the child quits playing with her dolls, when the student shelves his books, when the retiree puts away her tools, then the dying man leaves his body behind.”
Liberty had her eyes closed, looking inside for the sparkling crystals that she hoped were there. She saw herself brushing a horse, and knew it was a memory from the past. Then she saw herself riding, as swiftly as the wind, without even a saddle. The thought scared her a little. Next, the horse leapt into the air and became a sleek helicopter, and she knew she was at the controls. Her eyes still closed, a smile appeared on her face.
“I leave you with these thoughts,” Brother Timoteo was saying. “All the layers of your being are yours to do with as you will. The outer layers of the mountain contain much of value — soils, chemicals, ores. If unearthed too quickly, the crystals will not have grown. If left buried forever, their beauty can never shine.” He held the sparkling cluster aloft again, and then placed it carefully back in its box.
At breakfast Ashley spotted Brother Paul, and they sat together and
reminisced about the evaluation week they had both shared seven months before. Ashley told him about the assignments she had received since then, and about meeting Tim during the intensive French class.
“By the way,” Ashley said as she was starting to clear the table, “how many people were accepted from that group?”
Brother Paul smiled. “I’ll tell you next week.” Then he headed for the kitchen.
The group reconvened in the Ecumenical Temple as the Lyceum Council was gathering for its weekly meeting. As always, the council occupied the lower section of seats and the visitors sat above the walkway. The first hour was taken up with brief reports from all of the councilors.
“...work is proceeding nicely on the next Lyceum Journal, and I am making requests for material for the future. We implemented all recently suggested additions, except one that deserved a separate publication. That special photo history of the theme gardens that we talked about a few weeks ago is almost complete, with much help from Brother Glen...”
“...the only problem we have had in the Lodge recently is a little wall damage, which was skillfully repaired by Brother Arnold. Right now we are averaging eighty-six percent full. The team remodeling Bilbo’s Cellar expects to be finished in another week. The campground is in excellent condition, after replacing some posts and painting the north restrooms...”
“...we only have three members right now who are experiencing mental health problems. One I described last week, and it looks like some extra mentor time and a change of work assignments is going to do the trick.
Another is working hard to solve external family pressures, and he, his mentor, and I are meeting weekly for support and suggestions. The third, which I described two weeks ago, has decided to become non-resident. The problem is taking all her attention, and she is fully aware of that...”
After all the councilors had reported on happenings in their areas of responsibility, which included every major program, function, and building at Lyceum, a black man stood and began to talk about an item of new business.
“I trust you have all had a chance to notice document A in your folders. As you can see, it is a matter that can have serious consequences for our relations with the new administration that just entered the White House this year. I
wanted your reflection and input.”
There was a minute of silence while all of the councilors read over the document. Finally a lady stood.
“Thank you, Brother Daniel, for sharing this with us. We need to remember how government people think. They are not necessarily looking for facts, even when they say they are. They are not necessarily attempting to live up to a law or policy, even when they make references to such. The unspoken level of communications can be everything in dealing with the government.”
She sat down and there was a long silence as the councilors considered what she had said. A young man that Ashley recognized stood.
“I agree with Sister Ruth. The letter we received is clearly not for the purpose of determining if we are in compliance with the quoted law. We know we are, and they know we are. They are clearly fishing for something.
My guess is that they are aware of our influence, especially in matters dealing with the U.N., and are trying to see where we stand on certain issues.”
“Excellent insight, Brother Phil,” a fairly old but spry lady said. “And I am of the opinion that any response that shows lack of confidence on our part will only make them come back for more. I believe our best response would be a brief letter referring them to the proper reports that they already have on file.”
“That would work,” a tall middle-aged man said, “but I can’t help but wonder if there isn’t a way to get them to show their hand a little more...”
After the council meeting, the group gathered in a conference room.
Brother Howard spoke.
“I understand that you had an interesting example of Lyceum decision making during your very first session. Is the person who was transported by helicopter still with us?”
“Yes I am!” she said proudly.
“Good. When that situation arose, the rest of you witnessed a member of Lyceum make a decision that was small compared to the diplomatic responsibilities of someone like Brother Timoteo. But to at least one person, who may be a member of Lyceum someday, it was a very important decision.
How do you feel now about the decision that Sister Joan made on Saturday evening?” he asked the lady.
“I am grateful. I did not understand how it was possible at the time, and I was completely floored when I learned her age. I have since been told that even the eight-year-old who met me could have initiated that flight. But I have also discovered that Sister Sarah is no ordinary eight-year-old, and Sister Joan easily has the skills to run a successful business, even though she acts a little shy in groups.”
“Yes, they are both very valuable members. But the fact that they are young is not of supreme importance here. The thing I want you all to focus on is that just about any member of Lyceum is empowered to make just about any decision.”
“How is that possible?” a man asked. “Isn’t that decentralized management to the point of anarchy?”
“It is possible because of what you are doing right now,” Brother Howard said. “The essential purpose of evaluation week, from Lyceum’s point of view, is to discover which of you are willing and able to use your intelligence, your wisdom, your energy, and your love for service to others. Completely decentralized management does lead to anarchy when practiced by the average human being on our planet at this point in history. You are far from average. Those of you we invite to become members will be even further from average.”
He paused to let his statements soak in.
“But let that fact go to your heads for one minute, let it become an ego trip and you are out of here on a fast track, whether you’ve been a member for an hour, a year, or a decade.”
Brother Howard had spoken in a severe tone, and the room sat in stunned silence. This teddy bear has teeth, Liberty thought to herself, beginning to suspect what Shawn already knew about the man’s sensory handicap. Brother Howard softened and went on.
“The situation is actually a paradox of sorts. When people are put in a position of service, but then told they must follow a chain of command, conform to company policy, consult the rule book, et cetera, et cetera, they revert to what most people call ‘the bureaucratic mentality’ no matter how capable they were in the beginning. It is an understandable defense mechanism when a person is required to work under a system that has to take
into account human greed, laziness, incompetence, and egotistical ambition in its members or employees.”
“But don’t you have to deal with those factors in your visitors?” someone asked.
“Oh, yes. Constantly. And we spend considerable time and effort in training to be ready for them. They are why we are here, from the garden strollers out front to the citizens of a far-off country who are touched by our diplomatic efforts. We are their servants. And we are prepared to gently and respectfully take into account their human shortcomings.
“But there are thousands of service organizations in the world. The difference here is that Lyceum attempts to provide excellent service, verging on perfect service. Few other organizations in the world have been interested in that burden. That is why we must have an organization that literally can assume the ability in all its members to make the right decisions, make them fast, and make them with all their heart.
“And heart really is the fundamental issue. Lyceum members are empowered to make decisions and act in almost any situation because excellent service, unlike bureaucratic service, requires plenty of plain old love.
If the twentieth century taught us anything about service, it was that human organizations are capable of many things, but they are not capable of genuine loving and caring. Only human individuals are.”
The room was very quiet for a long time as the group pondered Brother Howard’s words.
After lunch and chores, a large lady in a wheelchair named Sister Patricia met with them in a classroom near the Library. The room had a display screen on one wall.
“Now it’s time to get down to the real nitty gritty. As you know, this afternoon is devoted to the economics of being a member of Lyceum. It is primarily a time for all of you to make sure you completely understand what Lyceum would expect of you, and what you could expect from Lyceum, should you become members. We’re going to talk first about residency. Non-resident membership is a whole different system.”
All three young people were paying close attention. The world of work and
responsibilities was fairly new to all of them, and they wanted to clearly understand what they were getting into.
As she spoke and rolled her wheelchair from place to place in the front of the room, Sister Patricia drew on a small input screen attached to the arm of her chair and her lines and lettering appeared on the large display screen on the wall. The entire group watched as she labeled each item of responsibility on the left half of the screen, and indicated, or at least estimated, the amount of time each required per week. After she listed each item, there were several questions; this was obviously important to everyone.
Shawn was particularly interested in the fact that every member, from young Sarah to elderly Brother Carl, did at least some of the simple cleaning and maintenance work, in addition to work they liked to do. And it also seemed right to him that everyone, even if they had been nothing but a janitor before joining Lyceum, had at least some work that was especially challenging that they wanted to grow into.
“We have to do anything we’re assigned to do?” a man in a suit and tie asked.
Sister Patricia grinned. “You will never be asked to do anything immoral, illegal, or life or health threatening. But if you don’t like the idea of being subject to assignment, then Lyceum isn’t the place for you. If an assignment is ever beyond your abilities, because of an illness or an actual misunderstanding about your skills, all you need to do is say so.”
Ashley and Liberty already knew that for them several of the items had different time requirements than for the adults. Liberty compared her work requirement of sixteen hours per week with the amount of time she had spent caring for the horses and doing yard work. She crossed her fingers that she could handle it.
Sister Patricia emphasized that all the work created because they lived there, like cleaning the residence halls and doing their dishes, were referred to as chores, and were not a part of anyone’s work assignments. Shawn was excited about the prospect of being expected to do his share of the chores. At home his mother had seldom let him help with anything.
Small amounts of time were added to the left side of the display screen for helping with the weekly inspirational services, tending a section of garden,
being a mentor to one or two others, and teaching one or more classes a week.
Sister Patricia continued to answer everyone’s questions.
The requirement that every member do something to earn money on the side was confusing to some of the older people who thought that Lyceum would provide for all their needs, and a little scary to the three young people.
Sister Patricia explained that it was not good for anyone to become too dependent on Lyceum. Her listing of the many situations that would cause a resident member to need or choose to become non-resident was sobering to all of those present.
Finally Sister Patricia moved to the right side of her chart, and the mood of the group changed noticeably from a business-like caution to an excited interest. Some of the benefits of membership, like meals, housing, and health care, were relatively simple and generated few questions. Others, like vacations and retirement, required lengthy explanations.
Everyone listened with interest to her outline of the educational opportunities at Lyceum, but some of the adults were bothered that there were minimum class requirements even for them. They seemed satisfied when they learned that the adult requirements for academic, vocational, and physical education classes were all much less than for the youth. Shawn just shook his head, wondering why anyone would see learning as something to be avoided.
There were many other benefits, not all of which were of interest to everyone, like laboratory and studio access, horseback riding, and the possibility of non-member children living with their parents at Lyceum. By the time Sister Patricia had completed the chart, no one could accuse her of being anything but thorough.
The last hour of the session was spent going over the very different, and much simpler, set of responsibilities and benefits that applied to non-resident members. Shawn thought of Brother Joseph and his family, Sister Mary Jane and her daughter, Brother Bob and his airplane, Brother Dancing Raven, and Sister Linda and her corporations. He hoped to see them all again. He was interested to learn that they all had weekly responsibilities doing everything from stuffing envelopes to scholarly research.
Most of the prospective members were in a cheerful mood as they walked
with the paraplegic member to the Dining Hall. Most of them were starting to really feel that they were over the hump and that the remainder of the Lyceum evaluation week would be easier. Most, but not all.
That evening the lounge in the center of the Education and Research Center silently hosted three young prospective members. They knew it was their last free evening, so they worked in earnest to finish their personal resumes, get caught up in their workbooks, and read the books they had checked out. Also present were their companions, doing homework or reading novels, and occasionally answering a question that one of their charges tossed out.
Liberty was beginning to feel genuinely hopeful about the prospects of being accepted into Lyceum. She and Sister Sarah were getting along better, and with Ashley’s help, she was starting to understand Lyceum’s religious mission. She wanted so very much to be able to tell her father that she didn’t need to go to Texas.
Ashley’s confidence had been boosted considerably after pondering Brother Ted’s words to her. Liberty had helped her with some science concepts, and she had asked many questions of many people. The thing she looked forward to most was telling Tim that she had been accepted and could begin her elite gymnastics training... and her other Lyceum responsibilities.
Shawn knew how the young Jesus must have felt when he had stayed to listen to the teachers in the Temple instead of sticking close to his mother and father. He knew he would never forget his parents, and he hoped that someday he could talk to them as one adult talks to another. But the more he learned about Lyceum, the more he knew that it had very much to offer that he wanted. He hoped he had as much to give in return.
About ten o’clock, Ashley came to the end of her book. She read the last paragraph twice.
Someday the human race will invent a type of community that is not based on constant exchanges of money, not dependent upon an irreplaceable charismatic leader, and not held together with the glue of a common religious creed. That day will probably have to await the birth of a new
generation, one that does not act because they have to, but because they want to; one that has replaced the profit motive with the service motive.
That day may be far in the distant future, or just around the corner. Only time will tell.