I gave him a smile. But good manners didn’t necessarily mean sincerity.
We fell into step together. We had fallen behind the rest of the group so we walked the final half mile alone.
It was strange to walk through the dark woods with him. It felt insulated and oddly intimate. Like we existed in our own bubble separate from everything else. Like we were the only two people in the world.
I noticed how Bastian took in everything around him. He navigated the fallen trees and leaf strewn ground with ease. Clearly, he was comfortable in nature.
He stopped when we came to a small stream. It was barely more than a trickle and easy to jump over. But Bastian held out his hand for me on the bank. I hesitated but then put my hand in his. He helped me get to the other side. Something I could easily have done myself. But I wouldn’t be rude about it. I knew better.
Another few minutes and we pushed through the shrubs and trees and found ourselves on the outcrop. The rest of The Gathering were already there. Bastian stopped. I heard his quick intake of breath as he took in the valley below. The sun was just starting to crest over the horizon. It was quiet. Incredibly quiet. A wind picked up, carrying with the smell of dawn.
It was hard to feel anything but awe in such a beautiful place.
I tapped his hand and indicated for him to follow me to a spot in the half circle the family had formed, facing the steep drop off. Pastor Carter had taken his place by the edge. His arms outstretched above his head.
He began his song. One by one we all joined him. I finally found Anne in the group. She stood next to David. Their heads were thrown back and eyes were closed.
“What the hell?” I heard Bastian mutter to himself. Hardly above a whisper. I tapped his hand again to get his attention. I pointed to everyone and made a gesture letting him know that he was meant to sing as well.
I added my own song. Different than Pastor’s. Different than everyone else’s. But it fit in with the melody everyone else sung. I felt Bastian’s eyes on me. For a long time he watched me. He watched the others. He stood incredibly still. Incredibly silent. His silence was louder than our song.
It felt like lead in my chest.
“Blessed is the day the Lord has made,” Pastor Carter chanted.
“Blessed is the day the Lord has made,” I repeated. I glanced at Bastian but he was watching Pastor Carter.
“Blessed is the sun, a true manifestation of God’s love. Of God’s power.” I caught Bastian’s eyes as I said my own blessing. I couldn’t read his expression. It was blank.
“Feel the heat. Feel the fire. Without it, we will die. Without it we will cease to be. Glory in the sun. Glory in the day. It is our gift.”
The sun had risen in the sky. A dull glow in the hazy morning. The morning blessing was almost over. I felt self-conscious for some reason. Itchy and ready to be done with it.
“Go forth and live the purest life,” Pastor exclaimed.
“Amen,” I murmured. And then everyone was moving back towards the tree.
“That’s it?” Bastian asked, moving aside as people brushed past us to make their way back to The Retreat.
“It’s The Sun’s Morning Blessing. We do this every day. We greet the sun and show our gratefulness,” I explained with a frown, annoyed by his tone.
“So you guys pray to the sun or something?” he scoffed.
“No, we donotpray to the sun,” I spat out. “The sun is the embodiment of God’s love. It goes on and on forever, like His affection. It’s His gift to us.” I recited Pastor’s words, irritated at my own defensiveness.
“Except the sun won’t last forever. It’ll burn out eventually. Does that mean there’s a time limit on God’s love?” He was making fun of me. I could tell. My palm itched, wanting to smack the smirk off his face.
My desire for violence shocked me. Followed by my shame.
“There’s no limit to God’s love. Perhaps you need to read the scripture and you’ll see for yourself,” I remarked steadily, proud of how calm I sounded.
Bastian sighed, looking out over the valley again. “Just seems a waste of a great view if you don’t even take the time to enjoy it. All that singing is a little distracting.”
My frown deepened. I opened my mouth to retort when Pastor Carter noticed us and made his way over.
He put his hand on my shoulder and I bowed my head slightly, waiting for his benediction.
But it didn’t come.
