Church Folk

by Michele Andrea Bowen

He laughed and kissed her again.

  Essie smiled. Theophilus and Thayline were something else. They loved each other fiercely, even if they were always fussing and bickering about something.

  Theophilus looked around his mother's kitchen at all the folks crowded up in it, savoring the feelings of joy, love, and contentment they brought up, and it seemed to him that he was basking in the miracle of God's love. Some people thought that the only way to feel God was in church, but he knew better. God was everywhere, always there, always a breath away. It could hit you at any moment, like right now, reminding you that one of the many places God can be found is in the love of your family. He wished he had a pen on him so that he could jot down those thoughts for a sermon.

  "Baybro, what you think gone happen tomorrow? You know, despite all the action this morning, I didn't get a feeling that y'all accomplished everything you set out to do."

  "Me neither," Uncle Booker said to Willis.

  "Ernest will not win a bishop's seat at this conference," Bishop Jennings said evenly. "His son will be demoted to serve as an assistant pastor at a prominent church in Detroit. And when things cool down, he'll be moved to a smaller church, and then to a much larger congregation by the time the next Triennial Conference rolls around."

  Theophilus shook his head. All this work, stress, and worry for Marcel to chase women at another church.

  "You two quit looking so glum. This business we're in is a lot bigger than this mess," Bishop Jennings said. "See, there is your church, then your district and the denomination. But most importantly, there is the business of the Lord. And as long as God is in business, the devil is out there just ready to do some work of his own. This thing we were dealing with this morning was way beyond you and me and a few corrupt preachers. It is a thing, a force, trying to harm the very soul of the church. Those men who started this mess and the ones whose names are in those two books are just pitiful little pawns in a war that outshadows any of us in this room."

  "Amen! Preach, Bishop," Rev. James said, in between bites. He had been thinking those thoughts all morning and hoped someone else would see things like he did.

  "So," Theophilus said. "So, Bishop, where does that leave all of us?"

  Looking at his young pastor struggle against disillusionment with the church, Percy Jennings recognized that this was what it really meant to be the senior bishop. It was about more than overseeing a multimillion-dollar budget and administration of a national organization. It was really about right and wrong, serving the Lord, honor and duty, caring for the folks who made up the church, and preaching the good news of Jesus Christ.

  "You know where it leaves you? Son, it leaves you at the altar of God's grace and mercy. Did you really think for one minute that this calling you answered would be easy? No, Theophilus, it is a daily walk to do right, by yourself and those you love as well as by your church. It is a calling to love the church like Jesus did, which brings with it the responsibility to make sure that the Body of Christ, the Church, can stand tall and look the Lord dead in the eye with a righteous heart.

  "So before you start getting all discouraged because these men didn't get the just desserts that you thought they should have, take stock of why you took this job in the first place. Because, let me tell you, what happened this morning was earthshaking. You didn't feel it all that much because it all came down in a series of tremors, but mark my word, the shake-up happened. And I guarantee you that you will see some surprising things happening tonight when those votes are cast. I have been in this business a while, and I have never ceased to be amazed by watching the hand of God at work."

  He turned toward Rev. James.

  "Am I right, Bishop?"

  "Yes, Lord. You know you got that right, Bishop."

  Chapter Thirty

  THE GENERAL CONFERENCE ENDED WITH THE blowup Bishop Jennings had predicted. The almost-fight between Theophilus and his adversaries that morning was only a prelude to the monumental battles that raged not only over the selection of bishops but between those pastors who had joined the preachers' club and their irate parishioners. At least forty congregations were anxious to find out who their new bishops would be, so that they could petition them for new pastors. But the first big eruption came with the selection of the bishops. As Bishop Jennings had thought, Ernest Brown didn't win a seat. In fact, he didn't even make a decent showing. And once the church folk smelled blood, they voted down every candidate who was visibly connected with Ernest Brown and the club. Both Jimmy Thekston and Willie Williams were passed over, and men who no one ever expected to win stepped up to fill their vacant seats.

  One was another pastor from Michigan, a faithful man who had long been denied the support of Bishop Lawson Giles, who took all of Ernest's votes. But an even bigger surprise came at the eleventh hour, when there was one seat left and no front-runner to fill it—and so Josiah Samuels won hands down. What amazed Theophilus about Reverend Samuels winning a bishop's seat was that he was one of the first members of the preachers' club. But he reminded himself of Bishop Jennings's words—that the business they were in was a lot bigger than one man's mess.

  What bothered Theophilus most was that nothing happened to Otis Caruthers. He would remain a bishop (located or not) and continue to receive a stipend from the denomination. He had not been turned over to the authorities when the Richmond city police started sniffing around the funeral home for evidence of illegal activity, much of which pointed to Bishop Caruthers. All Theophilus could think was that God wanted Otis Caruthers around just to keep them all on their toes, mindful that the devil was still very busy at church.

  He leaned over and tied his shoes—Stacy Adams, with all of that fine leather detailing he appreciated—then stood up and went to look at himself in the large mirror inside the closet door. One of the things he liked most about their new house in St. Louis were the mirrors on the doors of the cedar-lined closets. He decided now that he looked pretty good in the black silk gabardine pants and the finely crafted black clerical shirt he was wearing. Good enough to greet his new congregation at Freedom Temple Gospel United Church in the heart of St. Louis's North Side.

  He tilted his head to the side, to check his profile from another angle, and then smiled at Essie, still wearing her slip, who caught him at it and gave him a "boy, you know you ought to be a-shamed of yourself" look. He turned around and wrapped her in his arms, making sure to grab a good handful of her butt.

  She pushed at him playfully. "Negro, you are too hopeless."

  "Maybe so. But I am your hopeless Negro."

  She laughed and showed him the envelope she had been holding in her hand.

  "Who's this from?"

  "Saphronia."

  "Saphronia? Why would she write us?"

  Essie pulled the letter out of the envelope, scanned it a few seconds, and said, "First, she wants to thank us for sending her to Bishop Jennings. Says she loves Atlanta and feels very fortunate to be working under Mrs. Jennings as the speech therapist for her elementary school. Said that she is beginning to feel a lot more like herself."

  "I bet she is feeling more like herself because she ditched that clown, Marcel Brown."

  Essie shrugged and said, "I guess so."

  "That Negro must have been miserable to be with. What else does she say?"

  "For starters, that Marcel's ex-girlfriend, Precious Powers, turned in some more of his books, ones that proved how much of the church's money he had mismanaged—something Saphronia wasn't even aware of. Once the bishops got ahold of those books, not even Bishop Giles could save him. So, it seems like he is a bit unemployed."

  "And Sonny Washington?"

  "He ended up having to marry Glodean Benson after she told him she was pregnant."

  Theophilus opened his mouth to say that it had always been his understanding that Glodean couldn't have children.

  Essie held up her hand. "I know what you are about to say, but as Saphronia points out, Glodean won't be the first woman to get a man that
way. What I can't understand is why she would want that Sonny Washington. I guess we can only pray that when Sonny finds out he was fooled, because she fakes losing the baby or something, he controls that violent temper. That girl is playing with fire."

  Theophilus shivered to think that he had once been entangled in that poor woman's crazy mess. All he could do was pray for her.

  Essie pulled and tugged at her dress, looking in the long, oval mirror that hung on the pastor's office door. She had made an emerald green shift especially for today, with crystal bugle beading on the capped sleeves and all around the scooped neckline. But already it felt too snug. She asked Theophilus, "Is this dress too tight?"

  He took his time looking her over and then smiled that smile, eyes first, then on down to his mouth. "No. It's not too tight, just right. Makes me kind of wish I didn't have to get up in the pulpit this morning. Wish I could sit out in the congregation next to your fine little self and pat you on the knee a couple of times when something in the sermon got to sounding kind of good to me."

  "Just my knee?" she teased.

  "Yeah, that is, if you plan on sitting next to me in church. Now if you want me to go a little higher . . ."

  "You know that you are too nasty for your own good, which is why I am in the condition I am in. I can't even find me something decent to wear for your first Sunday as the new pastor of Freedom Temple. I should have listened to Thayline the very first time she told me you had some . . ."

  Essie looked up and then back at Theophilus. "What was it that she said about you at her house?"

  "She said that I had a baby packed up in me or something like that. And," he continued, leaning down to wrap his hands gently around her waist and pat her tummy, "I guess she was right."

  Essie stepped back, smoothing the dress over her thighs and turning around to check her backside in the mirror.

  "Baby, will you leave that dress alone," Theophilus said. "I told you that it's not too tight. You look fine."

  His eyes swept over her backside, which was rounder with the baby and even more sexier-looking in that dress. "And if you ask me . . ." he added.

  Essie gave him a look that clearly said, "But, I didn't ask you."

  He ignored her and continued, "Like I said, if you ask me, I don't think a pregnant woman ever looked better in a dress."

  He put his arms around her and kissed her on the cheek. His lips had the same warmth and passion as when he kissed her in front of Coral Thomas's house at the end of their first real date.

  He said, "Ummmm, thank God some things never change."

  There was a knock on the door. Theophilus knew that it was Leroy Dawson, who was doing his training as a minister and had come from Mount Nebo, along with his wife, Pearl, to serve as his assistant pastor.

  "Rev. Simmons, do we need to get the processional started?" he asked. "Folks are getting anxious to see what their new pastor is all about. Seems to me that the buzz around here at Freedom Temple is that they have a pastor with some—"

  "Balls. Balls, Rev. Dawson. Your pastor has some balls," Eddie Tate said, grinning into Theophilus's face as he opened the door.

  "Man, your butt is a sight for sore eyes. How did you manage to sneak away from your church this morning?"

  "Wasn't any problem. Just told my trustees I was coming down to lend you some support. And since you are the denomination's man of the hour, they sent me here with their blessings. Even sent you a little gift for your collection box."

  Theophilus took the check, smiling, and then said hello to Johnnie Thomas, who was looking good in an ivory silk suit with a matching pillbox hat. He was still getting used to being a prominent pastor. Seems like ever since the conference, folks were looking to him to be the next new leader in the church. And while all of this attention, along with the gifts and privileges that came with it, was nice, it was at times almost overwhelming. Sometimes he felt as if he would never be able to just relax and be himself as long as folks were so bent on "shouting him up and down," as Essie called it, every chance they got. But he recognized that the old pastor Theophilus Simmons was gone. In his place was a man whose heart was more fixed than ever on answering the call God had on his life, in a way that not only did his denomination proud but that also glorified God.

  Theophilus walked over to Rev. James, decked out in a brand-new black robe with very expensive purple silk brocade trimming, and gave his bishop a hearty handshake. He grinned broadly when he said, "Bishop." Rev. James smiled, took his place next to Theophilus at the head of the processional line, while Essie greeted Susie James with a quick hug, playfully chiding her for being so decked out in a lavender silk suit and matching hat.

  Theophilus stepped before his new congregation, confidently trusting God to guide him in molding this church into the kind of congregation that he, Rev. James, and Bishop Jennings felt that all of their churches should be. This church of the future, the one they hoped and prayed would take them into the next millennium, would be where church folk and the not so "churched" folk came for worship, guidance, spiritual development, solace, education and training, as well as to develop strategies to foster the Negro community's growth and progress at all levels. A place where all—children, women, and men—would be welcomed, put to work, and encouraged to reach their fullest potential. A place that was filled with the Lord's presence, where folks would be exposed to the everyday miracle of the love of God. A church that was an evolving, working miracle in itself.

  "Our Lord is in this holy temple," Theophilus began. "Let every child, woman, and man be glad in this day and rejoice in the blessings the Lord has seen fit to send our way. Let the church folk say . . ."

  "AMEN!"