The American sat in his pew, looking on as the choir and orchestra rehearsed for Sunday morning’s service. A young man in the orchestra, Ryce, a violinist and first in his section, did his best to mask the pain inside. No one would have known but for the back story.
Earlier that week, Ryce had a fight with his father. It wasn’t just any fight a university student would find himself in. This one involved the police. Negative agreement from his friends, ostensibly bannered as “support” encircled Ryce and his entourage when he arrived at the church earlier that afternoon.
Ryce’s father was a soloist in the choir. As if things didn’t seem complicated enough, the father, son, choir, and entire church were Chinese. So, there the American sat, a Chinese Bible on his lap, with a passage having been marked with the help of a friend in the pew beside him. · · · →