In Justice

by Alan Sears

  Chapter Twenty-One

  MOST OF PASTOR Pat’s radio and television audience had no idea what had been happening at Rogers Memorial Church. He still had an important broadcast ministry, as well as speaking and teaching commitments. He knew there were some things he couldn’t discuss for the time being, but he wanted people to know what his ministry stood for, why his church preached the gospel, and why he and the staff did what they did.

  After the last meeting with the deacons, Pat decided this was no time to run away and hide. Instead, he needed to make as many personal appearances as he could over the next few days to let the community hear his side of the story.

  When Pat stepped into the pulpit on Sunday mornings, he always looked perfect. He was upbeat and optimistic, and he really knew how to deliver a sermon. He generally worked on his message all week, and when he stood to preach, he knew there was nothing else he wanted to do. He did a great job in the studio, as well, recording the opening and closing segments of the Just One Life daily broadcasts. The crew selected short portions of his sermons to use for the teaching segments, and it all came together so well because Pat’s tone and delivery were always consistent and appealing.

  Pat soon learned that he wasn’t quite as savvy in other ways. When interviewers on local radio and TV programs started asking questions, he was not as cautious as he should have been. On one local station, an interviewer asked, “Rev. Preston, are you trying to say that, out of all the preachers in this state, the federal agents or whoever it was just happened to pick you at random? Are you saying that United States Marshals put you in the back of a patrol car for no reason?”

  According to the official documents filed with the search warrant and return, which practically everyone in the media had seen by that time, Pat had created a climate of fear and intolerance in the community. When federal agents and local police officers had come to his office to speak to him about it, he had attacked them and had to be restrained with handcuffs. He had seen cameras on their helmets and wondered what happened to the video, but whenever he brought that up he was told no such video existed. He had doubts about that. But doubts were not evidence.

  Another interviewer, from Nashville’s Channel 5, button-holed Pat. “If you expect us to believe your story, Reverend Preston, then you’re basically telling us that these law enforcement officers are lying. Is that right?”

  When Pat stumbled over the question without giving a satisfactory response, the interviewer went on to say that the officers who filed the incident reports were all church-going men themselves. “All four of the marshals who took you to jail that night, Pastor, are members of local congregations in and around this city.”

  When he was unable to respond to that bit of news, the station simply ran the video clip of Pat being hauled out of the church and shoved into the back of a patrol car. Seeing that report on the six o’clock news changed a lot of people’s minds about Pat. He noticed that even Becky was beginning to question some of the things he had told her about the arrest. She acted like she wanted to believe him, but he sensed her growing doubt.

  “Pat, the problem is that you’re far too trusting. Someone needs to follow you around to make sure you take care of the little things that get you into trouble.”

  They prayed together often. At first, Becky’s prayers were simple requests for wisdom. As pressure for media and the church increased, her prayer changed. “Lord, please help Pat, and please help me help him. Help him not to forget what has happened. Help him understand how serious all this is. Lord, please help me.”

  The last few words stung Pat’s soul.

  Despite the negative feedback and frequent misinterpretations of what he was trying to say, Pat continued to speak to anyone who would listen, explaining his situation. He wasn’t totally inept, but he had trouble realizing how poorly he appeared in his own defense. A couple of people, including the staff at the church, advised him to back off for a while, but he refused. He told them he wanted to be “proactive.” Proactive had become his favorite new term.

  One of the associate ministers took him aside and said, “Pat, there’s a time to talk and a time to let others do the talking. It’s time you let others do the talking.”

  Pat disagreed. “You know I’m not being prideful. I just want people to hear the truth. God is still God, and I’m confident He’ll make a way. In the meantime, I’ll just let the chips fall where they may.”

  The associate pastor shook his head. “At times, Pastor, you’re impossible to deal with.”

  PAT MET WITH the deacons on Wednesday night. It was clear from the first that Howard French was upset. As he unfolded his prepared remarks, he told Pat he had something important to say and wasn’t going to allow interruptions.

  “Pastor,” he began, “you know we love you. You’ve made a lot of progress since you came to this church, and you have taught us a lot. I suspect you’ve learned many things as well. As a board of deacons, we have tried to be your friends and support you. We have paid you well, and we even helped you and your family when you were away in England, working on your doctorate. I must also point out that our job, first and foremost, is to protect the interests and reputation of this church.”

  Pat opened his mouth to respond, but Howard cut him off. “Not now, Pastor. Please, just listen. Rogers Memorial Church is a large congregation with a huge financial commitment. We have a multi-million-dollar campus and lots of important and expensive programs, and all of this demands order and consistency in church operations. In addition, the 160 good folks employed by this church depend on what happens in that pulpit every Sunday for their well-being.”

  Pat tried to speak, but again Howard held up his hand and stopped him. “As much as we love you, Pastor, we can’t let anything damage the work of the church and school next door. Rogers Memorial can’t go forward if our pastor becomes a detriment rather than an asset to the work we’re trying to do here.”

  This time Pat made no effort to speak.

  After a long pause, Keith picked up the thread and said, “Pastor, it’s obvious what you’ve done for the church. No one’s disputing that. But there are still a lot of questions to be answered, and the first thing we’re asking you to do is to discontinue the series you started on the other religions.”

  Pat gave no response.

  Howard continued, “Pastor, you told us there would be six sermons in the series, and I believe the next one was going to be where you wrap it up and go over everything one more time. We believe you’re too caught up in recent events, and honestly, we can’t let you preach that sermon. We know it’s an emotional situation for you, but we need to turn the corner.”

  “And there’s something else we’ve done, Pastor,” Gentry said. “We’ve gone ahead and hired a lawyer to represent the church, just in case.”

  “In case what?” Pat said. “What do you mean? You’ve hired a lawyer to represent me?”

  “No,” Howard said quickly, “to represent the church. Our number one goal as fiduciaries has to be to take care of the church.”

  “So, I’m not part of the church anymore? I believe I’m still a member.”

  “Well, sure you are, Pastor,” Keith said. “You know what we mean. Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be. If you think you need a lawyer, you should look into that right away. But we have to look after the church; that’s our first responsibility.”

  One of the other deacons spoke up. “Pastor, we’re not telling you not to preach. We want you to preach, and the folks expect it. What we are saying is, don’t preach that sermon—save it for some other time. Go back to what you were doing before all this commotion got started.”

  “Talk about the importance of walking the walk and not talking the talk,” Gentry added. “Talk about the miracles that happen around us or something like that.”

  Pat’s expression didn’t change but the words felt like the first stab of Caesar’s men. Hurt and anger swirled in him. He felt chastised, but more than
that, he felt deserted by those who once promised to be his defenders and friends forever.

  Being told by these men not to preach a sermon he believed God had laid on his heart injured him most. He had been building a train of connections for five weeks, all in order to get to sermon number six. That was the message that brought it all together. He believed God had given him sermon six as a special revelation. The first five sermons, which had come from his Wednesday night teaching series more than a year earlier, were the stepping stones to what he really wanted to say—what he felt God wanted him to say.

  Pat had pledged to follow the counsel of the deacons—he had signed an agreement to that effect when he accepted the call. But he was deeply conflicted now, and worried about how he would respond to their demands. From the deacon’s tone of voice, they were only a step away from cutting him loose. The thought of being fired was troubling enough, but the worst part was what it would do to Becky if he lost this position. She wouldn’t be able to handle that.

  “I’m sure you agree with our assessment, Pastor,” Keith said.

  “Really? What gave you that impression?”

  “Surely you’re not going to go against our advice. We are unanimous in this.”

  “I didn’t say that either. I’m going to seek God’s leadership on the matter—just like you did. You did pray together about this, didn’t you?”

  No one spoke.

  Gentry twitched in his chair and his face grew red. “Pastor, the Bible says a wise man listens to counsel. It’s in Proverbs somewhere.”

  “I’m glad you hold the Bible so highly, Deacon. Here’s another verse for you. It starts at Acts 4:19. ‘But Peter and John replied, “Judge for yourselves whether it is right in God’s sight to obey you rather than God. For we cannot help speaking about what we have seen and heard.”’”

  THE NEXT FEW days were some of the worst Pat had ever endured. He hadn’t agreed to step aside, and he hadn’t told the deacons exactly what he was going to do on the following Sunday. But he did agree to postpone sermon number six for a time.

  Normally he would have spent most of the week working on his sermon, a sermon he would have delivered with passion. But now, even reading the Scripture had become a chore. He found it impossible to concentrate, let alone pray, except for the most casual prayers over meals with his family. He had a hard time talking to Becky or playing with the kids. God seemed far away, and the sermon he eventually prepared late on Friday afternoon was little more than a warmed-over devotional. It was exactly what Keith, Gentry, and the other men had asked for, with just one brief reference to a comment by C. S. Lewis from the book, Surprised by Joy. But even on that familiar subject, Pastor Pat was anything but joyful.