by Rob Summers
Chapter 36 Deacon Pride
“We haven’t seen you in church lately, Pride. I hope nothing is troubling you?”
Pastor Hypocrisy wore an expression of friendly concern, tinged with just a bit of reproach. The rich, conservative decor of his office seemed to increase the force of his appeal, as if to say that here were sense and success and decency and respectability. Oh, chaser after dreams, why have you wandered from the fold?
Beside Pride sat Vainglory, dressed in a long-skirted, old fashioned dress that buttoned right up to her neck; and around her neck was suspended a small silver cross. Her beautiful brow was knitted, her eyes fixed on the pastor, her fingertips, meanwhile, gently brushing Pride’s sleeve.
“I—uh—no trouble,” answered Pride. “You see, this, uh, other church I’ve been attending actually meets in my own house, and we have services there in the dining room. Nothing much, of course, rather simple.”
Hypocrisy smiled graciously. “No doubt it is very meaningful to you, and I wouldn’t dream of suggesting you abandon it; but these home services don’t preclude your attending here at Mammon, do they? You’re still a member in good standing. Don’t make yourself a stranger.”
“If you start coming,” said Vainglory quietly, “then I will too.”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind—I mean that would be nice—fine,” said Pride.
“I’m glad to hear you say that,” said the pastor. “This church needs someone like you right now. I need you. I could use your advice on so many things. Don’t think people haven’t noticed the change in you in the last months. You’re character has deepened, you’re more thoughtful and sensitive. Furthermore, you’re at a stage in life when you’re free to pursue a calling to ministry, and frankly, I think Providence brought you here at this time and at this stage of your development. Our church offers opportunities you may not be aware of: education, experience, guidance—most of all, an established framework in which to use the talents God has given you. Have you given any thought to the ministry?”
Pride smiled shyly. “Oh, some. But I have a long way to go before that.”
“Not at all, not at all,” said Hypocrisy, and Vainglory glanced at Pride with pursed lips, as if to chide his false modesty.
“You could be a deacon right now,” said the pastor. “Everyone knows and admires you, and you’d have my blessing. Look at it this way: you’re recent experiences have brought you closer to God in a way that you want to share with others, isn’t that so? And here at Mammon you can have the means to do so effectively, as part of a team that has the same vision. The advantages of a going tradition are enormous. We have the programs, the finances, the public eye. We are essentially the Kingdom to this community; they look to us. Pride, may I recommend to the elder board at our monthly meeting that you be nominated for the position of deacon?”
Fame gripped Pride’s hand and looked at him with sparkling, admiring eyes.
“Yes, that would be all right.”
“Excellent.” Hypocrisy rose to shake his hand. “A good decision, not only for yourself but for the community. And it’s only the start, remember that. Seminaries have scholarships, and I have connections with seminaries.”
They chatted together pleasantly for another fifteen minutes or so, till Hypocrisy finished by saying, “Do consider my office door as open to you at any time, Pride. I expect to have many fine talks with you. Thank you both for coming.”
Fame and Pride were quite out the door before Hypocrisy added, “By the way, Pride, when you are formally presented to the congregation as a deacon, you’ll be expected to make a short acceptance speech. Nothing much, just a few words about accepting the doctrines and bylaws of Mammon and being in agreement with our goals. I’ll send you some materials about it in the mail. Thanks again.”
Fame walked close by Pride as they exited the church onto the great sales floor of the Mammon Mart.
“I’m so proud of you,” she said. “Just think, only a few days ago someone might have said that you weren’t going to make something of your life, and now you may end up being a great preacher.”
She paused to look over a display of purses. “They really need to upgrade their line,” she commented. “I wouldn’t be caught dead carrying that.”
“Well, I don’t care about the ‘great’ part,” said Pride. “Being a preacher is good enough, if I can do that. What’s the matter with them?”
“Oh, they’re too big and cushiony. No flair, no zip. And the colors are all wrong, should have been pastels. You will make a great preacher, now! Don’t think negative and hold yourself back. Just watch Hypocrisy and do as he does. You talk about flair! Now there’s a man who knows how to sell himself to the public. I loved his tie, did you notice it?”
Pride confessed that he had not.