A Time to Stand

by Robert Whitlow

  Every so often, when Adisa could go with her, Aunt Josie would want to venture over to Westside Cemetery and spend time where her body would soon find its final rest. Every time they went, Aunt Josie always told Adisa the same thing: “Remember, I won’t be here when I pass on. I’ll be joining that great cloud of witnesses cheering you on.”

  Adisa poured a cup of coffee for Aunt Josie and added the amount of cream and sugar she knew her aunt preferred.

  “How do you feel this morning?” she asked.

  “Thankful to see another day but not worried if I don’t.”

  Adisa chuckled. Aunt Josie sat down and took a sip of coffee.

  “This is good. Who taught you how to brew coffee, child?”

  “You did, and you also taught me just about everything valuable I’ve learned that has to do with life.”

  “Don’t lie. It doesn’t sit right on your pretty face.”

  Adisa joined her at the table. “What do you want to wear to church today?” Adisa asked.

  Aunt Josie wrinkled her nose. “Same thing as you,” she answered.

  “What would that be?” Adisa asked. “We’ve not been shopping for matching outfits like Shanika does with the twins.”

  “You pick out something that Reggie likes and so will I.”

  “I’m not catering to what he wants all the time,” Adisa began.

  “I know, I know.” Aunt Josie shrugged. “You don’t have to prove how independent you can be to me, and it doesn’t seem to bother him.”

  The older woman took another sip of coffee. “Is Theo Grayson going to come?” she asked.

  “He said so on Friday.”

  “He’s in for a treat, but I’m not sure he’ll see it that way.”

  “He’ll join in. You watch. It’s Luke and Jane I’m more worried about. What if some of the women in the Amen Corner start shouting?”

  Aunt Josie smiled. “Do you think I still have the lungs to shout?”

  “No,” Adisa said, getting up from the table. “You sit there quiet like Shanika and I had to when we were little.”

  “That was years and years ago. I’ve learned a lot since then.”

  They arrived at Zion Hills Church, and Adisa parked in a handicap spot to make it easier for Aunt Josie. They found seats on the front row to the left of the pulpit. Reggie was meeting with the choir and out of sight.

  “I like that green dress,” Aunt Josie said to Adisa. “Green always says welcome home to me.”

  “And you always shine in white,” Adisa replied. “You look fresh enough to be baptized.”

  At that moment Ashley Nelson ran up to Adisa and jumped in her lap. Adisa planted a quick kiss on top of the little girl’s curly blond head. Following after Ashley were Luke and Jane, who was six months pregnant with a baby boy. Jane slipped into the pew beside Adisa.

  “I’m nervous,” Jane whispered to Adisa. “And I’m not the one who’s going to speak.”

  “He’ll do fine. Did he write it out like I suggested?”

  “Yes, and he even let me make a few suggestions.”

  Ashley touched the diamond on Adisa’s left ring finger and began to move it back and forth.

  “She’s been fascinated with your ring since the first time she saw it,” Jane said.

  “I catch myself staring at it, too.”

  “You’d better!”

  “Do you think Reggie and I will make it to the altar before baby boy Nelson arrives?” Adisa asked.

  Jane touched her swollen abdomen. “It’s going to be close.”

  The choir entered, swaying back and forth as they sang. Reggie followed. As soon as he came into view, he looked directly at Adisa and beamed. Adisa’s face lit up with her brightest smile. After the first song ended, she glanced over her shoulder toward the rear of the sanctuary. There was no sign of Theo Grayson.

  The Sunday-morning worship service at Zion Hills might have seemed old-fashioned to some or too emotional to others, but Adisa’s heart and spirit were broad enough that the joyous celebration found a welcoming place in her soul. She’d learned to adapt to other expressions of love for God, but on this day she was at Zion Hills Baptist and didn’t hold back. She swayed when she wanted to sway, lifted her hands when it seemed like the thing to do, and closed her eyes as the songs grew slower and more worshipful.

  Jane seemed to enjoy the lively singing and joined in once she caught on to the unfamiliar choruses. Luke’s lips didn’t seem to be moving, but he clapped his hands in rhythm. The women in the Amen Corner never exploded in “Hallelujahs,” and Aunt Josie didn’t try to jump-start an outbreak.

  After over half an hour the congregation settled into their seats. Out of the corner of her eye, Adisa caught sight of Theo Grayson, wearing a blue seersucker suit and a red bow tie, entering the church. There was room for him to squeeze onto their pew.

  “I never sit on the front row in the Presbyterian church,” the lawyer whispered as soon as he was settled beside her.

  “You’re not at the Presbyterian church,” Adisa replied. “Did you bring a handkerchief?”

  “Why?”

  “This close to the front there’s a good chance Reggie might spit on you if he gets excited during the sermon.”

  Grayson smiled and shook his head. Reggie took his place behind the pulpit.

  “Greetings to members, visitors, and honored guests,” he began. “As you know from your bulletin, this is a special Sunday in the life of Zion Hills.”

  Reggie continued with the announcements. Adisa could see Thelma Armistead sitting with her friends in the Amen Corner. Deshaun’s grandmother was wearing an orange hat.

  “And at this time I’d like to ask one of our special guests, Officer Luke Nelson, to join me on the platform,” Reggie said.

  Adisa’s heart began to beat a little faster. She could feel tension in the room and hoped Reggie hadn’t made a mistake in inviting Luke to come.

  “I’ve asked Officer Nelson to say a few words this morning, but before he does that, I want to speak to you from my heart,” Reggie said. “This isn’t the sermon. That will come later and last a lot longer.”

  There were a few chuckles across the congregation. Reggie placed his hand on Luke’s shoulder. Luke was wearing a nice gray suit, a white shirt, and a yellow tie.

  “I’m not going to try to summarize race relations in America in a few sentences,” Reggie continued. “That would take months by somebody a lot smarter than I am. But I am going to tell you there is only one definitive, all-encompassing answer to what divides us, isolates us, and causes us to mistrust—transformation of the human heart through the power of the gospel of Jesus Christ.”

  A scattering of “Amens” greeted Reggie’s words. Adisa whispered one of them. Reggie began to warm to his message. He began pointing his finger at people all over the sanctuary.

  “And transformation takes place within your heart and your heart and your heart, and the heart of every person, black or white or brown, who humbles themselves enough to receive the grace of God. And what is the fruit of that transformation? It’s not more people sitting in pews on Sunday morning. It’s more people demonstrating what it means to be a child of God in their lives on a moment-by-moment basis. It’s more people working toward reconciliation instead of complaining that it doesn’t exist. It’s more people doing the practical things that reveal a changed heart. It’s more people loving God with all their heart and loving their neighbor, regardless of skin color or culture, as they love themselves. This type of love isn’t a sentimental feeling—it’s the most practical, revolutionary force that’s ever existed on planet Earth. As it says in 1 Corinthians 13, this type of love sacrifices for others, isn’t easily angered, and”—Reggie paused—“keeps no record of wrongs. If that’s the kind of person you want to be, I’d like you to rise to your feet.”

  Slowly at first, but with gathering momentum, everyone within Adisa’s line of sight stood up. Reggie gripped the edge of the pulpit and watched. When the room
became quiet again, he leaned closer to the microphone.

  “Ecclesiastes states that there’s a time for everything under the sun. A time to be born and a time to die, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time for war and a time for peace. I’d like to suggest that it’s time for something else in our day and in our community.” Reggie raised his right hand in the air and his voice thundered. “It’s a time to stand! To look past differences the Lord created and come together in the unity of God’s Spirit! To stand in agreement that God’s will be done on earth as it is in heaven! To stand together on earth as we will one glorious day stand before the throne of God!”

  Shouts of “Amen!” echoed off the walls of the sanctuary. Adisa saw Luke voice his assent. Reggie took a deep breath and stepped to the side. Grayson leaned over and whispered to Adisa.

  “I’m going to ask my pastor to invite Reggie to speak at our church. We need to hear that, too.”

  “I’ll come, too,” Adisa replied. “A second time wouldn’t hurt me, either.”

  Reggie touched Luke on the arm, and the police officer stepped forward, unfolded a piece of paper, and placed it on the pulpit. He cleared his throat. Adisa could tell he was nervous.

  “I feel like sitting down because I agree with everything Pastor Reynolds just said, and he said it way better than I could do in a hundred years of trying,” Luke said. “I want to be the type of person he described.”

  A healthy chorus of “Amens” greeted Luke’s declaration.

  “But there are a couple of things I want and need to do. First, I want to thank Mr. Theo Grayson and Ms. Adisa Johnson for having the courage to help me. I’ve learned a lot about myself over the past year. Some of it wasn’t pretty.” Luke glanced down at Adisa. “And I’ve realized there were things I thought I understood but didn’t. But by God’s grace, I’m going to do better and be better. Second, there are two people I want to join me on this platform. Will Thelma Armistead and Deshaun Hamlin please come up here?”

  For months after Deshaun’s release from the hospital, Adisa had trouble fighting back tears whenever she saw the teenager. Each tiny improvement in his mental and physical functioning caused her heart to overflow with thanksgiving and tears to stream from her eyes. She turned in her seat as the young man made his way to the front of the sanctuary. He was deaf in his right ear and wore glasses due to vision problems, but he’d recovered remarkably well. Dr. Steiner’s prediction that Deshaun’s brain would adapt had proved to be accurate. He didn’t have the quick reflexes needed to play varsity basketball, but he could dribble and shoot free throws. And two weeks earlier Sister Armistead had proudly announced to Adisa and Aunt Josie that Deshaun made the honor roll his final semester in high school and was planning to go to college in the fall.

  Deshaun stopped and waited for his grandmother, who slipped her arm in his. They climbed the steps together.

  “Isn’t that beautiful?” Adisa whispered to Grayson.

  When he didn’t reply, she glanced sideways and saw two tears stream down Theo Grayson’s cheeks.

  Deshaun and his grandmother reached the top of the steps and stood beside Luke, who was also overcome with emotion. He raised his fist to his lips for a moment. Shouts of “Amen!” echoed across the room. He turned to Sister Armistead.

  “Mrs. Armistead, thank you for forgiving me when everything around you was shouting that you had a reason to hate. When Adisa told me what you said in church and how you cried out for mercy for me and Deshaun, I thought, ‘What kind of person can do that?’ Over the past year you’ve been gracious enough to let me spend some time with you and your family and find out.”

  At that point, Thelma Armistead stepped close to Luke, wrapped her arms around his neck, and hugged him. And she didn’t let go.

  “Hug,” Adisa heard Ashley say from her place on her mother’s lap.

  Adisa nodded. Yes, that was the ultimate hug. When Sister Armistead finally released her grip of love, she planted a solid kiss on Luke’s right cheek. He looked at the congregation and grinned.

  “I know envy is a sin,” Luke said into the microphone. “But it’s impossible for you not to be jealous of what just happened to me.”

  Laughter rippled across the room. Luke turned to Deshaun. Chills ran down Adisa’s spine. Luke stared at the young man for several seconds.

  “Deshaun, I’ve told you that I’ve wished a thousand times things would have gone differently the night of the shooting. You were the most innocent person on that street. You were the most courageous person on that street. And over the past year, you’ve shown the greatest strength of character and will that I’ve ever witnessed in another human being. I’ll never forget the Bible verse you quoted to me the first time you were able to talk to me. Do you remember that verse?”

  Deshaun nodded.

  “Would you quote it for the people here this morning?”

  Deshaun stepped to the microphone and in a loud, clear voice said, “‘And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.’”

  Luke rejoined Deshaun at the microphone. “We’ve not yet fully seen how that verse is going to be revealed in Deshaun’s life, my life, and perhaps your life,” Luke said. “But I’m here to tell you I believe we will. And part of that good is what’s happening here today. May this not be a moment, but a movement. Thank you.”

  As Luke left the platform and walked down the steps, the applause began. At first it was scattered, but it grew, and grew, and grew, until everyone in the sanctuary was once again on their feet. Deshaun, too, left the platform, but his grandmother stayed at Reggie’s side, which seemed right. Her words of forgiveness and cries for mercy to triumph over judgment had ignited a flame capable of consuming the dead, dry wood of prejudice and hate. She closed her eyes and raised her hands high in the air. Adisa didn’t try to fight her tears.

  “That was a pretty good service,” Grayson said casually to Adisa when the meeting ended. “I’m glad I came.”

  “Theo—” Adisa began.

  The older lawyer smiled through shining eyes. “Okay, it was historic. And I believe it will be a part of the history of Campbellton that future generations will celebrate rather than regret.”

  Aunt Josie joined them and gave Theo a hug of his own. “Thanks again for taking in my baby and giving her a job,” she said.

  “I think we both gave her a job,” Theo replied, glancing at Adisa. “And the one you passed on to her is much more important.”

  Adisa, Aunt Josie, and Theo watched as Reggie and Luke stood in the midst of people greeting them with smiles on their faces. Adisa spoke to Theo.

  “Do you want to join us for Sunday dinner at the Jackson House? The Nelsons are coming.”

  “Yes,” Theo replied. “A church service like this makes me hungry in more ways than one.”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I’M GRATEFUL FOR the multiethnic prayer meeting in the fall of 2015 where the idea for this novel was birthed in my heart. Special thanks for the unfailing support of my wife, Kathy; for the excellent, insightful editorial guidance from Becky Monds and Daisy Hutton at HarperCollins Christian Publishing; and for the sharp eye of Deborah Wiseman, who catches and corrects my mistakes. Thanks to my son, Jacob Whitlow, for steering the novel into deeper waters; and to Steve Sellers for his technical, practical insight.

  DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

  What did Dr. Cartwright mean when she talked about the need to move from integration to reconciliation?

  Why did Dr. Cartwright question Luke’s moral authority to speak to racial issues? Was she right in doing so or too harsh?

  How did Adisa, Reggie, and Luke grow in their understanding and response to racial issues and challenges? How do they need to continue to grow?

  What was your internal response, if any, to Rafe, Aunt Josie, and Adisa as intercessors for their community?

  What stood out about the final church scene?r />
  What additional influences/pressures/challenges would people in Adisa’s and Luke’s positions have in a situation like the one in the book? How about Theo Grayson and Aunt Josie?

  What was your reaction to Thelma Armistead’s declaration of unconditional forgiveness and cry for mercy in chapter 20? What tragedy in America’s recent past resulted in this type of forgiveness?

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ROBERT WHITLOW is the bestselling author of legal novels set in the South and winner of the Christy Award for Contemporary Fiction. He received his J.D. with honors from the University of Georgia School of Law where he served on the staff of the Georgia Law Review.

  RobertWhitlow.com

  Twitter: @WhitlowWriter

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