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United Methodist Church may face moment of truth with homosexuality Funeral for a friend just says no to Elders World is poorer, but heaven's now Rich-er The Fellow, The Man, and Fellow Man Why should the devil have all the good music? Visions: Miracles, or spiritual mirages? |
By Frank "Buzz" Trexler We buried Steve the day before Thanksgiving. My former college roommate was less than two weeks past his 35th birthday when the battle came to an end – a time span that his mother referred to as 21 years of hell. For you see, her only son Steve was good looking, humorous, intelligent – a one-time teacher with a master’s degree from University of Tennessee – most likable and generous. In fact, as his dad would say after the funeral, "Steve would take in a dog." Visiting his house you might find a street person sleeping on the living room floor, or "a busload of California hippies" who took Steve up on his offer at a North Carolina Rainbow gathering to drop in any time. But Steve, who grew up in the Baptist faith and gave his life to Jesus as a pre-teen, fought a demon familiar to many our age: drugs and alcohol. Looking at our 1974 high school yearbook, it’s easy to recall the drug-filled atmosphere that permeated the times; the heavy waft of marijuana smoke and the reek of stale beer were familiar at teen parties. Chances are it was those two substances that introduced the inherently curious Steve to the drug scene. When I caught up with him in 1978, we rented a house about a mile from the East Tennessee State University campus in Johnson City. Our grades counted us as "respectable," as we used to say tongue in cheek; our lifestyle raucous and incredibly anti-Christian. But that lifestyle has its spiritual and earthly costs. In 1 Corinthians 13, the apostle Paul writes, "When I was a child I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me." In 1985, I gave my life to Christ and put the "childish ways behind me." The demons fled. Later, Steve would try to escape his own demons, but they seemed to only dig the talons in more deeply. (Maybe my demons were wimpy compared to his.) In 1990, with the help of his parents and church, Steve entered a rehabilitation unit in North Carolina. Upon release, he came to stay with me and my family in Knoxville, hoping to find a job in his teaching profession. He stayed only a few days before returning home. My advice as he left was to escape his "friends" and their scene. He said the rehab people told him the same. Apparently he ignored us all. At the time of his death, Steve was again in rehabilitation – this time under court orders. He had been jailed as a co-conspirator in a drug buy, but the judge saw in Steve what may of us did and tried to help him. By all accounts, Steve had been straight for "four or five months" until the Thursday before his death. One friend said Steve came to his house that Friday a bit high with two other men and told him twice in less than 10 minutes that he needed to talk. The friend said at the time it didn’t seem urgent and failed to pursue it any further. On Saturday, Steve worked a flea market with his dad, who later said when his only son left he somehow knew it would be their last moments together. "I watched him until he went out of sight." That afternoon, those who saw him say Steve arrived "sideways" at a house being renovated by some acquaintances. At some point, they say, he passed out in the front yard and was being taken inside before being left alone while the others reportedly went to a bar. When they returned, Steve was dead and his war was over. The cause of death has not been determined. But there is little doubt substance abuse played some part. Some of those who gathered in the Upper East Tennessee cemetery the day of his funeral are likely fighting the same war. Gathering around the gravesite, they took on the appearance of walking wounded returning from battle. Surgeon General Joycelyn Elders suggested Tuesday that legalizing drugs could help make America’s streets safer. Responding to questions at a National Press Club luncheon after a speech decrying violence, Elders said 60 percent of violent crimes are drug- or alcohol-related. "Many times they’re robbing, stealing and all these things to get money to buy drugs," she said. "I do feel that we would markedly reduce our crime rate if drugs were legalized." The nation’s top doc and those of her ideological ilk who engage in the Bob Marley-esque chant of "legalize it … legalize it" appear to have tunnel vision on this issue. Yes, drug gangs and their violence would likely disappear; maybe thefts would even drop in correlation to the reduced costs of drugs. But has the lack of prohibition cut down on alcohol-related deaths? The numbers tell a different story. While Elders is off the wall, Lee P. Brown, the director of the Office of National Drug Control Policy at the White House, is on target: Legalization, he said, is "a formula for self-destruction" and would inflict "terrifying damage" on communities already torn apart by drugs. If Elders and others would like to study the issue, they should stroll to the nearest cemetery. Or, better yet, walk a mile in Steve’s shoes. He doesn’t need them anymore. The Rev. Frank "Buzz" Trexler is managing editor at The Daily Times and pastor of Green Meadow United Methodist Church, wwwthemeadow.org. You can e-mail him at PastorBuzz@nxs.net. |
