THREE
Freely let others praise you, but never give them help.
Julius Mann, Reflections, ch. 9
Roy stood behind his pulpit, with the cross and white wall behind him, and looked down at his empty church. Two hours he had been there, feeling as condemned as any man could be. His faith seemed drained away. He still knew his theology, gained from five intensive years at Chichester Kingdom of God Theological Seminary. He still knew his personal salvation, his Bible, his God. But any confidence he may have recharged now felt withered away. Certainly, he knew the church hierarchy would not stand for it. How can anyone lose their entire church in one day? What kind of curse could achieve that? Roy knew.
He began to consider finding another line of work. He was good at helping people, and there was always work in that field, outside religious circles. But more than a few doubts came to mind about his pastoral abilities. He had always prided himself on being a spiritual example, a respectable religious leader. Now it all seemed useless; a waste of time and effort. Nothing had been achieved. No one had really been helped; maybe a few with their daily concerns, but not spiritually, not in what really mattered.
He looked once more at his unread sermon, but this time with anger. He crushed the three pages into a little ball. As if he was unleashing all his anger in one action, he hurled it down into the aisle below. As he watched it fly through the air he could not help comparing it to his life; a crumbled mess out of his control, sailing into oblivion.
The paper ball landed on the soft blue carpet about half-way down the aisle and sat there untouched, surrounded by the empty pews. It was a pathetic sight. Roy stepped down from his pulpit and went quickly to it, hoping he could pick it up before anyone saw it. He gathered it up and stuffed it in a pocket, and carried on his way out of the church. He locked up, thinking it may be the last time, and climbed into his car that was parked in its own special spot, surely also for the last time.
Roy was curious enough to make a detour on his way home. He stopped off at Rick Rheem’s church. The red-bricked and pillar-framed Church of God’s Glory had seen remarkable growth over the last few years, including some from Roy’s own flock. The building was not too far out of his way and Rick was an old friend. Although their denominations were different, the two leaders got on well whenever they would meet. Their friendship started when it was discovered that a young woman from Roy’s congregation was also attending Rick’s. The outcome of their initial meeting was the decision to allow her to attend both in the meantime, as Roy’s computer files clearly showed the woman was a little unstable and needed the kid-gloves approach to his spiritual well-being. To his credit, Rick agreed.
Roy parked down the street and walked through the gate and into the expansive car park. The fact that Rick’s church was some three times larger no longer made Roy feel envious. As he went through the car park he tried to recognise any familiar cars, without success. The cars were few, but it was only an evening meeting.
At the large glass door he noticed there was no one in sight, so he peered in. Certain the foyer was deserted, he stepped inside. Singing could be heard, and Roy recognised the song, although his church would not sing anything similar to it. He stopped at the main door and slowly pushed it open, just enough to see. The church was not even half full, and that surprised him. As well as he could, he looked over the people, and concluded that none of his own people were there. He felt a little guilty that he had to check, but at least it would stop him wondering if Rick’s was the church they had chosen.
“Oh, hello Reverend Hoyle, fancy seeing you here,” came a bright and all too loud female voice behind him.
Roy felt terror rush through his body, but he was quick enough to hide it and smile as he turned to meet a little woman carrying a large stack of booklets. She was having no easy time of it, but such was her enthusiasm she hardly needed any help.
“Are you joining us tonight?” she continued without waiting for Roy’s answer. “Haven’t you got your own service on tonight? No mind; we always welcome newcomers, especially now.”
She was getting closer and Roy had no idea what to say to her, and her face was totally unfamiliar. He decided to fumble with the truth.
“I just happened to be passing by,” he said as casually as he could manage, “and I saw your church and thought to myself I would not mind having a little look in.”
“Oh, you want to pick up a few tips? I don’t see your notebook,” she giggled as she turned and began to force the door open with her back.
“Let me help you,” Roy offered, concerned that she might drop the books.
She was grateful as he pushed open the big oak door, and she told him so, loudly, and her voice carried throughout the vast hall. The song had finished and another was being selected by the church band. Some people looked around to see Roy. He felt like a spotlight was on him, and he kept his head down as if he were a criminal trying to avoid the media. It was too late.
“Well!” came an excited voice amplified by large speakers hanging from the ceiling. “Reverend Roy Hoyle from the Kingdomite church down the road is paying us a visit! Bless you, brother Roy. It’s good to see you here!”
Short, white-haired and a ready smile, Rick Rheem always appeared diminutive but his voice could boom out when he wanted it to, especially when he was behind his pulpit and provided with the power of a microphone. Now every member of his congregation looked around to see Roy. In the first split-second Roy contemplated turning on his heels and running for his car. He then acted like he was happy with the greeting, and offered them all a friendly wave.
“So nice of you to bless us with your presence in such an hour,” Rick continued.
Roy walked toward him and smiled. He was heading down the main aisle of the large auditorium. The small congregation was seated in only the first five rows, leaving many empty seats behind them and making the room look even larger. Rick’s pulpit looked like a fortress, and the platform was spread out to the left and right, with the church band to the far right. The platform was covered in posters and flags of all shapes and sizes, ranging from professional artwork to children’s drawings. Adorning the back wall was an array of shrubs and small tress, all artificial. Rick stood tall from the pulpit, smiling like an angel under perfectly placed lights designed to give that effect. Like Roy, his make-up had been skilfully applied, and only an expert would know he had it on.
“Don’t mind me, Pastor Rick,” Roy said with a laugh in his voice. He went to find a seat on the aisle two rows back from the others. “Just act like I’m not here, it’s quite all right.”
“Nonsense,” Rick said as he held both hands out, the palms facing Roy as if he was wanting an embrace. “We surely need a fresh perspective to enlighten our souls this day of all days. Do us the pleasure of stepping forward and sharing with us what is on your heart, dear brother.”
Roy hesitated before he sat down, and then sat down. “No, of course not. I wouldn’t think of interrupting you, Pastor Rick.”
“Is this not just the humble response as we should expect of a minister of the Kingdom of God community? You know very well, Reverend Roy, our community does not follow your ways. But we are only too happy to welcome others to share their hearts to us, and minister according to the Spirit of grace.”
“I couldn’t, really.”
“Come, come.”
Those who were sitting close to Roy gave him their encouragement, and he felt himself standing and walking to the pulpit. Rick showed his approval by describing Roy’s spiritual attributes, to which most of the people applauded and said, “Amen.”
With a broad grin Rick waved Roy to take his place behind the pulpit, while he took one of the seats behind, positioned between two large plastic shrubs. Roy found the pulpit featured the usual items: a jug of water and a couple of cups, lighting and sound controls, and audience-response meter, a timer, a computer screen, and a large black and gold Bible, which was the only thing that could be seen by onlookers. Also hid
den to the people was the microphone, which was the best available from the mainland, and a view-screen for reading sermons or anything else. Roy had dreamed of preaching behind such a pulpit. Now it was more like a nightmare.
As he looked the audience over he gave the appearance of being full of information so marvellous that he did not know where to start. Once he was certain that no one from his congregation was present, he felt calmer.
“Thank you, Pastor Rick, although I would have much rather have remained seated with your community and listening along with them as you share your heart. It is not like I am above taking tips from my fellow brothers in the ministry.”
As the people tittered at his intended amusement, he subtly moved his hand to a small set of computer keys and found RandomVerse. Before his pulpit, blocking his view of several people, came a dull green screen seen by no one except him and perhaps Rick if he peered closely. An index of dark green words appeared and Roy pressed another button as he searched through the subjects, settling on Hope. The screen changed to read, “For whatsoever things were written aforetime were written for our learning, that we through patience and comfort of the scriptures might have hope.”
Roy read it so casually that no one would have known he was reading at all. He was pleased to see the computer automatically set to the old King James Version. Like him, Rick was content to stay with the finest of English texts.
“I would like to remind you of St Paul’s encouragement and exhortation of our hope found in the scriptures, in Romans fifteen-four, a verse which always comes to mind during such times in which we need to remember and meditate on that essence of what we base our faith. Please turn to it, for I think it is a good verse to look at and encourage each other with. Romans fifteen-four.”
With subtle and effortless skill, Roy moved from speaking on the verse to a short version of one of his favourite sermons based on an original given by Julius Mann. He knew it so well that he could think about other things while he spoke. With total control over his words, he imagined what it would be like if he instead told them what was really on his mind. He wondered how his audience would react if he revealed what he had done last night and how terrible he felt about it.
He would say how everyone commits sin and falls short of God’s standard, and like Paul he would admit how he considered himself the worst of sinners. He would reveal how God had punished him by removing him from his ministerial office and sending his entire congregation elsewhere. In his mind Roy imagined the audience being shocked but at the same time sympathetic to his pains. They would then voice their support and encouragement for him, and even invite him to be prayed for by the church elders, temporarily forgetting who he was and what church he represented.
A time signal of the last minute appeared before him and it broke his thoughts. He paused as he glanced over the people and concluded that they would never be able to hear such a confession, or respond in such a forgiving manner. He knew they wanted sermons exactly like the one he gave them. It was not too taxing to listen to, appeared to be informative, and had a personal funny story to make its main point. Roy knew it was what they wanted. In many ways they reminded him of his own congregation, which was the main reason why he thought some of his people might have been there.
Like a true professional, he ended in perfect timing with the clock and Rick was soon right behind him to pat him on the back and tell him how much they all enjoyed it. As Roy returned to his seat they all stood and commenced a rousing song. Roy was unfamiliar with both the song and the style of singing, but he went along with it as best he could.
After a long prayer delivered by Rick, the service was pronounced finished. There was an immediate change of mood, as everyone started talking as they moved to the dining hall for supper. Laughter soon broke out and the few children present began to shout with excitement. Many people gave a personal welcome to Roy, which he returned in kind. He knew he would have to go through the motions of being polite and interested in everything that was said. Rick himself was adept at being sociable, and Roy would have been the same had it not been for his suppressed guilt and concern for his people.
After twenty minutes Roy made his move to leave. Rick caught up to him as he pushed through the first doors.
“Thank you so much for dropping by, Brother Roy,” Rick said warmly.
“No problem, Brother Rick.”
“But tonight of all nights, brother. It has especially blessed us.”
“It was no problem, really.”
Rick ushered Roy to a corner of the foyer away from the doors and looked around to make sure no one was coming near. “How many have you lost?” Rick asked him with a low voice.
“What? You know about it?”
“Of course I know, Roy.”
“But how?”
“News is all over town.”
“It is?”
“Of course, Roy. News like this does not take long to spread. We have close Christian communities here, you know. All the leaders make an effort to be friends, you know that. And I’m sure they’ve heard about it on the mainland by now.”
“Look, Rick, I’d like to keep it private, for now anyway, until I can at least come to terms with it.”
“I understand.”
“I don’t want my church hierarchy in England finding out like that, by rumour. I’d rather give them my report, and offer my resignation, nice and quietly, without any fuss.”
“You don’t have to resign, Roy.”
“You don’t think so?”
“Of course not. It’s nothing to resign over.”
“But this is serious, a serious offence.”
“Just give it time. Wait and see what happened.”
“Don’t worry about that. I know very well what happened.”
“You do?”
“I’m not going to deny it, not now. How can I when this is the result? It was all my fault.”
“Come on, Roy, it’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault. We just have to sit back and wait and see what happened to the people.”
“But I know what happened. God has judged me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“God’s judged me, for my sin. He’s taken away my congregation, shown me I am no longer fit for leadership.”
“Roy, I don’t know what sin you’re referring to, but if you want to share it and confess it with me in private, then we’ll do so sometime during the week. But I don’t understand what you are trying to say. God has not judged you by taking away your people.”
“You don’t think so?”
“Of course not. I haven’t committed any sin, and yet I’ve lost a lot of my people.”
“What do you mean? How could you have lost people too?”
“Let me give you some advice: I see you are getting yourself into a bit of a state over this. Just relax and keep praising God. Act normal and keep doing what you always do. That’s what I’ve told my people, and it’s worked wonders. A merry heart is always the best medicine, in the face of any crisis. Our hearts will not be broken if we stand on that word, you know. We must stand together, and encourage one another, and then we will get through this.”
A group of happy, laughing church members shoved open the doors and said good-bye to Rick and Roy. Rick at once went to the door and ushered them out, sincerely shaking each one by the hand. Roy could see others coming behind them, and he decided to take the chance to leave. It occurred to him that he may have misinterpreted what Rick was saying, but he could not imagine what else it could be. The thought of every church leader on the island knowing his secret made it hard for him to think straight.
“We’ll talk about it during the week, Pastor Roy,” Rick said as he helped him on his way through the door. “Just give my secretary a call and we’ll find a time for you. It will be in the utmost confidentiality, I promise. And don’t worry about what’s going on with our people. I’m sure it’ll be sorted out in no time, and we’ll all be back to normality.
”
As Roy walked to his car his legs felt weak. He leaned against the car as he opened the door. Panic was starting to spread through his body, and he was shaking so bad that his breathing became irregular. It was the realisation of how bad his sin really was. To make it worse, Rick nearly found out; he nearly gave it away. As it was, he had said too much. Now Rick knew he was carrying a secret sin. His reputation would take a battering. It could even be reported to Chichester.
As he got into his car he forced himself to calm down and begin to think of a way to explain to Rick that he was not talking about himself having a secret sin. It was actually someone from his congregation, and he was concerned about it. He slammed his fist into the steering wheel with annoyance, but he did not swear.