Blessed Trinity

by Vanessa Davis Griggs

  “I’m considering it. Why?” Pastor Landris said. “Do you know something I don’t?”

  Reverend Knight tried to hold back a smile. “Well, Pastor, I don’t think this place is available for you to rent or to buy.” He placed his hat back on his head.

  Pastor Landris looked puzzled. He had seen the “for sale” sign outside when he walked in. He had called the listing agent and confirmed it was still available. She had come and let him in to take a look around as long as he wanted. He had enough money to buy or at least sign a lease for it, although three years was longer than he felt he would need it. He started to wonder what Reverend Knight was doing here, and how he happened to know someone, namely him, was even there.

  “From everything I know, this place is available,” Pastor Landris said, eyeing him more closely now.

  Reverend Knight pulled out a business card and handed it to Pastor Landris. A photo of a skinnier, twenty-years-younger version of Reverend Knight graced the front of the card. The times of the church’s Sunday-morning, evening, and Wednesday-night services were listed on the back.

  “Pastor Landris, I would love to have you come join me in my ministry. I have over 2,500 members in my church. I know you realize how hard that big a congregation can be on top ministers such as ourselves.”

  “Excuse me,” Pastor Landris said. “What do you mean by ‘top ministers’?” Pastor Landris placed Reverend Knight’s card in his coat pocket. “I’m not trying to be a big shot. I’m just trying to preach the Word of God. Being a top minister never enters my thinking. If people happen to have heard of me, that’s fine. It just gives me a bigger opportunity to reach more people for Jesus. That’s all fame is for me.”

  “Come on, Doc. Don’t try to act so humble. Let me tell you what I’m thinking. Instead of you coming to the city and having to start from scratch, why don’t you consider coming over to The Church of Revelation with me? I would be honored to have you on staff.”

  Pastor Landris tried to be polite. “Reverend Knight, I appreciate the offer, but God sent me here to start a new congregation, not to hook up with an existing one. In fact, He didn’t even send me here to take over the congregation of an outgoing pastor. My specific assignment is to start anew.”

  Reverend Knight snapped his head to one side twice as though he had a twitch. He grinned. “Can I be frank with you, Doc?” He looked at Pastor Landris to gauge his reaction. “There are too many church buildings here in Birmingham. It used to be a running joke that there was a church on every corner. Now it’s more like three to four churches on every street. What we don’t need is any more churches. All of these places just siphon off members from existing congregations. Not many are going out into the fields to harvest those who have never heard of Jesus and bring in new converts. They wait for people to get mad and leave one place to traipse over to another, only to get upset or tired there and leave again.

  “Now, my people are pretty stable. They don’t leave too often. Were you to come on board, I believe we would double in size, quite frankly, and we could then build even bigger. Can you imagine a congregation of 20,000. Think of the power we would possess. With that many people, we could affect outcomes of elections. Politicians would court us. Sure, there are always challenges with that many people, but you expect that. When you become a church that size, you tend to attract the smartest, most successful and accomplished people in the area. Everybody would want to be part of our church so they can impress others. People want to be part of something alive…growing. So why waste your talent duplicating what’s already in place? Let’s team up.” Reverend Knight shifted his weight. “There are only so many people in this town, anyway. Think of the money you and I could rake in together.”

  Pastor Landris shook his head. “Rake in?” He couldn’t believe what Reverend Knight had just said.

  “For the Kingdom, of course. All for the Kingdom. That’s what this is all about. Raking in souls for the Kingdom. But let’s not play games—it takes money to do anything worthwhile. And I assure you, at The Church of Revelation, all of your needs will be met. And I do mean ALL of your needs, if you catch my drift: spiritually, physically, socially, and financially.” Reverend Knight glanced at his watch. He needed to hurry—the sun would be setting soon.

  Pastor Landris nodded slowly. “All, huh?”

  “Capital ‘A’, double ‘L’—ALL. You’re not going to find a better deal anywhere. I guarantee that. If you do, come back and see me. We’ll renegotiate.”

  Pastor Landris smiled. “Is that right? Well, Doc, I’m afraid you’re a little too late. I’ve already been offered, and accepted, a better deal. You see, I kind of feel like Paul when he wrote Philippians 3:7–8, ‘But what things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ. Yea doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ.’ And Philippians 4:19 that says, ‘My God shall supply all my need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.’ ALL my need. God handles each need as it arises. We might not see it, but it’s there. Not out of His riches, but according to His riches. Not even you can top that.”

  Reverend Knight had a smirk on his face, then touched the rim of his hat. “I see you’re truly as well-versed in scripture as people have claimed. That’s good. Real good. I’m sure it will come in handy with the fight you’re about to have on your hands.”

  “Fight?”

  “Yeah,” Reverend Knight said as he took out a handkerchief and mopped a bit of perspiration from his forehead in spite of the wintry January air. “Not that I’m one of them, but there are plenty of folks who don’t want you or your teachings here. Righteous brothers and sisters, clearly under the radar, of course. Now I respect your gifts and I would welcome you with open arms. Then at some point, I would proudly turn over everything I have built up over the years to you. Everything. You see, I don’t have a son to pass my church on to like some of the other preachers.”

  “Excuse me—your church? I didn’t realize any church belonged to anyone other than Jesus. And what’s this about congregations being passed on like an inheritance…some kind of legal birthright?” Pastor Landris said.

  “Come on, Doc. Do you really think for one second these preachers who’ve built these huge congregations plan to let someone from outside the family just come in and take it if they have any say-so about it. Unless it’s under certain umbrellas that keep that from happening, ministers like me have our ways of passing our churches on to our offspring. Or, at least, to a chosen one, especially when we’ve built something from nothing. I can see—there really is much I can teach you. So what do you say? Come on board with me. At least say you’ll think about it?” Reverend Knight pulled off his skintight, black leather glove and extended his right hand to Pastor Landris.

  Pastor Landris looked down at the hand waiting to be grasped. He looked up at Reverend Knight’s hat and appreciated how his own dreadlocks somehow kept him warm enough that his head didn’t need to be covered. He looked into the face of this older minister…a man who could easily have been his own father. Reverend Knight looked tired and worn, yet, he appeared sincere.

  “Reverend Knight, thank you for stopping by, but as I said earlier, I’ve already accepted a better offer. Now if you’ll excuse me,” Pastor Landris said and nodded as he cautiously stepped over a pile of debris, “I need to finish checking out this place before it gets too dark to be able to see.”

  Reverend Knight lowered his hand slowly, then brushed it off on his pants as though it had been badly soiled. “Suit yourself,” he whispered, almost to himself. Then he carefully made his way out the door, just as quietly as he’d made his way in.

  Chapter 4

  Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.

  (Philippians 1:6)

  Pastor Landris had submitted an offer on
the building he had looked at after taking one day to pray about it. According to the realtor, everything seemed to be a “go” but a few days later, he received a call from her saying the building was no longer available.

  “What happened?” Pastor Landris asked.

  “The owner decided they no longer want to sell or lease it. Quite frankly, Pastor Landris, I don’t understand it myself. They have literally been jumping down our throats about finding a buyer. In fact, they’ve lowered the price more than a few times, hoping to find someone to purchase it. Then I received a call telling me it was no longer available.”

  “Do you think the seller possibly received a better offer?”

  “It’s possible, but if that’s the case, I’m due a commission regardless. He had a contract with us, and if it sold, our office is entitled to something. All I was told was it is no longer on the market.”

  Pastor Landris thought for a second. “Is there any way I could speak with the owner myself?”

  “We were asked not to divulge this information to the public. I’m sorry.”

  “May I ask you one other question? It will only require a yes or no answer.”

  “Sure.”

  “Would the owner happen to be a Reverend Paul Knight?”

  The realtor hesitated for a full fifteen seconds. “Actually, Pastor Landris, the listed owner is a nonprofit organization.”

  “Oh,” Pastor Landris said, disappointed with her answer. “Well, thanks, anyway.”

  “Pastor Landris?”

  “Yes.”

  “Reverend Knight is the person handling the transactions for this organization.”

  Pastor Landris wasn’t sure if he was pleased to hear this or not. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll keep looking if you want me to. I’m sure there’s something out there to meet your specifications. Unfortunately, there aren’t a lot of vacant churches, but I’ll keep my eyes open.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  Pastor Landris hung up and stared at the phone. He couldn’t believe what was happening, but he wasn’t going to let this deter him.

  The phone rang just as he was about to go into the kitchen and find something to eat. Johnnie Mae and Princess Rose were out shopping, and Johnnie Mae hadn’t said whether she planned to bring something home for supper. Thinking it was probably the realtor calling back, Pastor Landris didn’t bother to look at the caller ID.

  “Pastor Landris speaking,” he said, cutting to the chase.

  “Hey, man, why so formal today?” It was his brother.

  “Thomas, I thought you were someone else.” Pastor Landris took the cordless phone and walked a few steps away to the window. The Bradford pear tree in the front yard that was so beautiful during spring and fall was completely boring now. He saw his neighbor across the street walking his Alaskan Husky, although it looked more like the dog was walking the neighbor. “What’s up?” Pastor Landris said.

  “I’m fine—thanks for asking,” Thomas said to a question that was not asked.

  Pastor Landris realized his big brother’s meaning, but his mind was still reeling from his conversation with the real estate agent.

  “Sorry, Thomas. My thoughts were somewhere else. No excuse. Please forgive me.”

  “Sure, I forgive you. We’re brothers. And that’s what brothers do.”

  Pastor Landris suddenly suspected something was amiss. “Okay, Thomas. What’s wrong?”

  Thomas knew it was best to get this over with. “It’s the radio station money.”

  “Yes?”

  “There’s a problem…well, a major problem.” Thomas let out a long sigh. “Listen, man. I probably should come over there and tell you this to your face, but I can’t face you. So I’m going to tell you, and if you feel you want to come over here and beat the living daylights out of me, I can’t blame you.”

  “What is it, Thomas?”

  “You remember Sammie, the guy who was handling all of your deals?”

  “You mean the hustler who handled the deals I never commissioned him to do in the first place? Those deals?”

  “Yeah, those,” Thomas said, deciding to come clean so he could finish. “It appears the money he had of yours for the radio station—”

  “Ten million dollars worth.”

  “Yeah, that money. Well, it seems it’s no longer there, and, of course, the radio station deal can’t go forward without it. So that’s what’s been taking so long. Sammie was trying to fix it, but he sort of ran into a bit of bad luck, so to speak. Other people he had deals with weren’t as understanding about his investing ethics as—”

  “Me and you?” Pastor Landris interjected with sheer sarcasm.

  Thomas tried to laugh it off. “Yeah, you. Anyway, they filed criminal charges against him and have also filed several civil lawsuits. Any money he had in his personal and business accounts has been frozen. Can you believe that? They froze all his assets, including anything that may have belonged to other people, until his hearing comes up.” Thomas sniffed a little. “That’s messed up, if you ask me. He tells me they can’t legally do that, so he and his lawyers are fighting this injustice tooth and nail.”

  “How long have you known about this?”

  “I sort of knew a little about it back when you and I talked at the beginning of this year about selling the station. But George, man…I was praying it would all work out.”

  “Yeah, right, Thomas.” Pastor Landris couldn’t believe it. “So what does this mean for me?”

  “It means that the radio station deal has fallen through because they have another buyer who has the finances and is ready to move on it. I’ve been trying to talk to them myself and work something out until this is all cleared up.” Thomas spoke fast. “Come on, man. You know how much that radio station meant to me. Frankly, I can’t believe something like this has happened! You know this is just the devil, right?”

  Pastor Landris sat down in the blue recliner in the den. He ran his hand over his hair, then his forehead. It was dusk now. He turned on the Tiffany lamp perched on the table next to the chair. “What does this mean for my ten million dollars?” Pastor Landris asked in a slow, deliberate voice.

  “You need a lawyer to file a petition in court against Sammie. I’ve spoken with one already, and he said you have a good case for getting your money released, provided you can prove it was yours to begin with. It’s possible to have that part of the asset unfrozen and returned to you. It might be a bit expensive retaining the right lawyer, but that’s better than losing the whole amount.” Thomas paused.

  “George, I’m sorry, man.” Thomas continued. “I know this is all my fault. If I could go back and change things, I promise you, I never would have gotten involved with Sammie or any of his little get-rich-quick schemes. That was my mistake. I’m 44 years old—I should know better by now. But I’ll tell you what. You and I are going to agree in the name of Jesus that Satan will not steal your money.” He waited; his brother didn’t utter a sound.

  “George? I know you’re still there,” Thomas said. “Come on, George. Say something. Holler, scream, yell at me…just say something. Come on, man…”

  Pastor Landris looked up at the ceiling. He knew God had called him to begin this work. It was a good work. But for some reason, he just couldn’t get anything started.

  As he sat there and began to rock slightly in the chair, he heard a scripture in his spirit from Philippians 1:6. “Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.”

  Pastor Landris stopped rocking and became totally still. He knew one thing for certain: he would have to trust God—now, more than ever.

  Now, more than ever.

  Chapter 5

  How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! how art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations!

  (Isaiah 14:12)

  Pastor Landris had been angry when he learned he wouldn’t be able to
purchase or lease the building he’d found for the church, but it bothered him even more when he realized Reverend Knight had been behind it.

  “I just can’t believe it,” Pastor Landris said to Johnnie Mae as they stood in the kitchen. Johnnie Mae and Princess Rose had eaten while they were out, so he was searching the freezer for something to eat. “You remember that preacher I told you I met the other day named Reverend Knight?”

  “You mean, ‘Poppa’ Knight,” Johnnie Mae said, teasing him. When she glanced at his face, she immediately wished she could take that joke back.

  “Poppa is right. He must think he’s my daddy.” Pastor Landris took three crab cakes out of the freezer, placed them in foil on the metal tray, and put them into the toaster oven. “Well, he’s going to find out just how wrong he is. Somehow he blocked me from getting that building. I don’t know how or why he did it, but the building is suddenly no longer available. And he just happened to show up the day I was looking at it. I knew something fishy was going on. He was trying to be all nice, talking about how much he respects me. How he wanted us to work together…”

  “Landris, I know you’re upset and disappointed, but I’m sure we’re going to find a place to start a congregation,” said Johnnie Mae. “The church is inside us, so it doesn’t matter about the building. Wherever we are, the church is.”

  “It’s not about the building. That place was in bad shape. It was going to cost about $300,000 just to fix it up. But it would have been a great place to begin. And to think that man stood there and looked me in my face…” Pastor Landris grabbed a plate out of the cabinet and set it on the counter, “knowing that place was under his control. Johnnie Mae, he was actually acting like he wanted to adopt me as his spiritual son so he could pass his church on to me. His church.”

  Johnnie Mae could see Pastor Landris was getting madder and madder. “Landris, just tell the realtor to keep looking. And if we can’t find what we’re looking for soon, we can begin services here in our home if we have to.”