Ah, Maine – land of lobsters, lighthouses, and apparently, judges who think they’re theologians. In a custody spat that’s got more twists than a coastal road in fog, Emily Bickford finds herself in the crosshairs of a court order that’s about as American as a tax on breathing. Barred from taking her 12-year-old daughter Ava to church? Forbidden from cracking open the Bible at home? It’s the kind of judicial overreach that makes you wonder if the First Amendment took a wrong turn at Portland and ended up in the Atlantic. But let’s dive into this mess like a hardy New Englander into icy waters, because if there’s one thing America First means, it’s keeping Big Brother out of your pew.
The Setup: A Custody Battle Gone Biblical
Picture this: Emily Bickford and Matthew Bradeen never tied the knot, but they did have a daughter back in January 2013 – Ava, who’s turning 13 come January 2026. Emily’s had primary custody all along, with Matthew popping in for visitation. Things chugged along fine until May 2021, when Emily and Ava started attending Calvary Chapel in Portland. For three and a half years, it was Sunday school, friends, and faith-building – the wholesome stuff that builds character without needing a government stamp.
Then, last year, Ava got excited about baptism and spilled the beans to Dad. Cue the drama. Matthew, who’s 47 and hails from Topsham, wasn’t having it. Born in August 1978, he’s got a solid resume: University of Maine grad with a business admin master’s from Southern Maine, working as a project manager in construction. Steady job, no scandals – but apparently, a deep-seated aversion to anything smacking of Christianity. He hauled the issue into Portland District Court, and by December 2024, Judge Jennifer Nofsinger dropped the hammer.
The order? Emily can’t take Ava to any church without Matthew’s okay – and he’s been nixing every one. No Bible reading, no chatting about “religious philosophy,” no hanging with church pals. If Ava makes a new friend who starts going to Calvary, she’s gotta drop them like a hot potato. Christian holidays? Off-limits. Weddings, funerals, even hospital visits tied to the church? Nope. It’s a ban so sweeping, it’s like the court decided faith is a controlled substance.
Emily’s fit as a fiddle otherwise – no abuse, no neglect. But the judge zeroed in on Ava’s one-time anxiety spell, a panic attack, some scribbled notes, and a workbook entry calling a demon image “scary.” Apparently, that’s enough to label core Christian teachings on hell and angels as “psychologically harmful.” Enter a California sociology prof flown in to dub Bible-believing spots “cults.” Because nothing says impartial like an out-of-state expert opining on Maine family life.
The Father: Steady Eddie with a Secular Axe to Grind
Matthew Bradeen isn’t some cartoon villain – he’s a regular guy with a house on Katie Lane in Topsham, plugging away in construction management. Educated, employed, and evidently atheist to the core. Sources paint him as absent for chunks of Ava’s early years, skipping child support here and there, but he stepped up for visitation. What flipped the switch? Ava’s baptism buzz. He reviewed church sermons online, balked at the end-times talk, and decided it was bad juju for his kid.
In court, he pushed for sole say-so on religion, and won. Now he’s got veto power over Ava’s spiritual life, and he’s wielding it like a sledgehammer. No churches approved since December 2024. Ava misses her Sunday school buddies, but Dad’s stance is ironclad. It’s parental rights for thee, but not for she – a lopsided deal that smells like favoritism toward the non-believer. In an America First world, we’d call that selective secularism, the kind that erodes the foundations faster than a nor’easter.
The Appeal: Oral Arguments and a Glimmer of Sanity
Fast-forward to November 13, 2025: The Maine Supreme Judicial Court hears the appeal. Emily’s fighting back, arguing the order’s a blatant stomp on her rights as a parent and a believer. The evidence of “harm”? Flimsy at best – no immediate danger, just kid stuff amplified into apocalypse. During arguments, the justices weren’t buying the lower court’s extremism. They called it a “nuclear option,” hostile to religion, and questioned why a fit mom gets stripped of decisions while Dad calls all the shots.
One justice grilled the defense: Does this mean courts can ban any faith practice that rubs one parent wrong? Another pondered if the order’s breadth – no Bible, no events, no friends – crosses into unconstitutional territory. It was a grilling hotter than a clambake, with the court signaling the ban might not hold water.
Recent Revelations: Heartache and Hope
Since the order hit in December 2024, Ava’s been cut off cold turkey. No church since then, no holiday cheer tied to faith. Emily’s shared how devastating it’s been – Ava wants back in, misses the community, but the ban’s like a padlock on her soul. Oral arguments brought fresh air: Justices seemed appalled at the overreach, hinting at a rethink. No ruling yet – expect one in weeks – but the tone’s shifted from doom to dawn.
And let’s not forget the kid’s voice: Court docs note Ava’s eagerness for church, but it got sidelined. In November 2025 updates, Emily’s hopeful, not just for her family, but for every parent dodging government meddling in matters of the heart and heaven.
Likely Outcome: A Win for Freedom, Fingers Crossed
If the justices’ skepticism is any guide, this order’s headed for the scrap heap. Overturning it outright seems probable – restoring Emily’s say in Ava’s faith without the “approve or else” nonsense. At minimum, a remand for a narrower fix, proving real harm beyond a scared workbook doodle. Precedents favor parents unless abuse is crystal clear, and here? It’s murky as Maine mud.
But in a center-right lens, this is bigger than one family. It’s a wake-up call against courts playing favorites with faith. America First means shielding families from such idiocy, ensuring the Bible stays off the banned-books list in your own home. If the Supremes rule right, it’ll be a victory for common sense – and a reminder that judges aren’t divine, no matter how they act.
In the end, this saga’s a satirical goldmine: A court banning church in the land of the free? Only in 2025, folks. Let’s hope sanity prevails, or next they’ll outlaw lobster rolls for being too indulgent.