Wilkins’ words echoed in TJ’s thoughts as he turned the corner to the conference room for the morning prayer meeting. He saw people milling about in the hall up ahead. As they caught sight of him, they surged forward. He steeled himself and walked on. The first ones approached, reached out, shook his hand, murmured a few words, patted his shoulder, his back, reached hands over the ones in front as the crowd grew in size and tried to touch him.
Nak pushed his way through, grabbed his arm, told those in front to give them room, and led TJ into the chamber and down toward the podium. People already in their seats stood; people nearest to the aisle reached out gentle hands. TJ felt tremendously embarrassed until it struck him that they weren’t paying him homage. They were just saying goodbye.
Bella was waiting for them at the stairs leading up to the stage. “That was wonderful, what you said in the interview. Really wonderful.”
“Thank you, Bella,” TJ replied, touched more by the look in her eyes than by the words.
“There are two Cabinet members, three senators, and five congressmen—”
“Six,” Nak corrected her.
“Is it six now?” She smiled. “Who would have thought it’d come to this when we started?”
TJ climbed up on the stage, set his Bible on the podium, kept his eyes down as he waited for the people to settle. Nak remained at his side long enough to murmur, “Mrs. Nichols is in the third row.”
That startled him. “The President’s wife? She’s here?”
“Almost directly in front of you,” Nak said, patted his shoulder again, and walked from the stage.
TJ bowed his head, afraid to look up and see her and not know what to say. Fill me, Lord, he prayed. Guide me. Tell me what it is you want me to say to them.
In time to his words, the Presence descended and granted him peace.
All doubt, all worry, all concern for the past or the future simply vanished. In that moment of transition TJ realized that all of his fears were simply cries of his humanness. So long as his being remained one with the Lord, so long as he lived the life of the new self, joined with his Savior Jesus Christ, things were clear. It was not a question of knowing all things. He did not need to know. He knew the Scriptures. He knew the presence of the Holy Spirit. He knew that the Lord’s plan was unfolding. That was enough. That was sufficient in all things, in all ways.
He lifted his eyes, wished the quieted room a good morning, opened his Bible.
As always, it became utterly clear what was to be said that morning. And, as was true with every message, he realized that the words were meant as much for him as anyone.
“We are in positions of power, of leadership,” TJ began. “This means that we must set an example for all people throughout this land. We must walk the paths of light, not of darkness. If we search after power, if we work for our own gain, how can we condemn others for doing the same thing? These are questions we must raise to ourselves every day. It is the only way to avoid being trapped within the illusion of worldly power. Why are we here? Whom do we serve? Where does our ultimate responsibility lie?”
He picked up his Bible, and said as he searched, “Our first reading this morning comes from the sixth chapter of Matthew.” He heard pages rustle, lifted his head, smiled encouragement to those who fumbled through their own Bibles, said, “We’ll start with verse nineteen:
“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
“The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are good, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eyes are bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light within you is darkness, how great is that darkness!
“No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and Money.”
TJ looked up, said, “For the past several mornings we have been seeing how the first means of serving God is through faith. Let’s now consider a way this faith can be seen.” He began turning pages, went on, “Our second reading comes from the tenth chapter of Romans, beginning with the second part of verse twelve.” As he waited for the others to find their places, he told the gathering, “This is sometimes known as the Missionaries’ Creed:
“The same Lord is Lord of all, and richly blesses all who call on him, for, ‘Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.’
“How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how can they preach unless they are sent? As it is written, ‘How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!’”
TJ swiftly turned the pages, said, “Our third reading is from the thirty-third chapter of Ezekiel, beginning with the first verse.” He used the time it took the others to find the passage to say, “Here the Lord speaks through the prophet Ezekiel, using the allegory of a watchman keeping guard against the dangers of the night. As is said here, our responsibility is not the other man’s response, but rather that we have ourselves responded to the Holy Spirit. It does not matter where we are. It does not matter with whom we deal. We are, each of us, called to pass on the message of salvation to all those with whom the Lord gives us contact.
“The word of the Lord came to me: ‘Son of man, speak to your countrymen and say to them: “When I bring the sword against a land, and the people of the land choose one of their men and make him their watchman, and he sees the sword coming against the land and blows the trumpet to warn the people, then if anyone hears the trumpet but does not take warning and the sword comes and takes his life, his blood will be on his own head. Since he heard the sound of the trumpet but did not take warning, his blood will be on his own head. If he had taken warning, he would have saved himself. But if the watchman sees the sword coming and does not blow the trumpet to warn the people and the sword comes and takes the life of one of them, that man will be taken away because of his sin, but I will hold the watchman accountable for his blood.
“‘Son of man, I have made you a watchman for the house of Israel; so hear the word I speak and give them warning from me. When I say to the wicked, “O wicked man, you will surely die,” and you do not speak out to dissuade him from his ways, that wicked man will die for his sin, and I will hold you accountable for his blood. But if you do warn the wicked man to turn from his ways and he does not do so, he will die for his sin, but you will have saved yourself.
“‘Son of man, say to the house of Israel, “This is what you are saying: ‘Our offenses and sins weigh us down, and we are wasting away because of them. How then can we live?’ “ Say to them, “As surely as I live, declares the Sovereign Lord, I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but rather that they turn from their ways and live. Turn! Turn from your evil ways! Why will you die, O house of Israel?”’”
TJ closed his Bible, lowered his head, said, “Let us pray.
“We offer up this prayer, our Father, not for ourselves. Not for today. We pray now for all of those who have never known the grace of your guiding light. Raised without the knowledge of love, they live in the arid desert of an empty heart. They walk in blindness, Father. They wallow in the trough of momentary pleasure. They move constantly from desire to desire.”
He voiced the words given him by the Spirit that overwhelmed his being. There was a sense of bonding with the audience, as though he were a part of all of them, and they were all a part of something greater. United by the same Spirit that filled him. Drawn together into the body of Christ.
TJ paused for a moment to savor the wonder, and hoped desperately that he was not the only one who felt the miracle grow.
“Our brothers and sisters are lost in the world
of shadows, Father. They seek to fill the void within by taking on things without. They are constantly hungry in spirit, constantly empty, constantly aware of that gnawing inner ache. Let us know the presence of your Holy Spirit, Father, so that we in turn might be able to help them. Let us offer them your holy light. Let us offer them the gift of your salvation. Let us show them what it means to live in your love.”
He paused to savor the wonder a moment longer, then ended with, “In Christ’s name. Amen.”
He did not question when the same compelling urge drew him from the stage while the others still sat and murmured softly. By now he could tell the difference between his own basic shyness over matters of faith and the drive that now moved him to depart. TJ drew his Bible up against his chest, and with head bowed, swiftly left the room.
****
Congressman John Silverwood entered his office to find total chaos. Bobby waved a fistful of messages at him from his tiny alcove, talking on one phone while leaving a second one lying on the side table off the hook.
Marge sounded terribly weary for eight-thirty in the morning. “Yes, ma’am, I am absolutely positive that the congressman is aware of how important this issue is. However, with all of his other responsibilities, it’s just not possible for him to speak to each caller.”
He walked by her desk, ignoring her frantic hand signals for him to pick up the massive stack of telephone-message slips. He didn’t need to see them. He knew what they were all about.
Bobby followed him into his office with his own pile of slips; before his assistant could speak, Silverwood told him, “I had breakfast with Ted Robinson this morning. He flew up last night, after the bomb dropped yesterday morning.”
“‘Bomb’ is the right word,” Bobby said, running his free hand through frazzled hair. “When I left at seven o’clock last night every single phone was still ringing. Same when I arrived this morning.”
“Ted told me about the reaction at home. About what you’d expect,” Silverwood tried to keep his voice calm. “There weren’t actually any battles out in front of our headquarters, not any that he saw. Just a lot of people milling about, shouting and waving signs and singing hymns. Said it was tough to figure out exactly who was for and who against, but it certainly did make for an interesting day.”
“Calls are running about ten to one for,” Bobby said, trying to match Silverwood’s calm, but his bug-eyed expression betrayed him. “I hate to think what tomorrow’s mail is going to be like.”
“Or next week’s,” Silverwood agreed. “Something tells me this isn’t just going to go away on its own.”
“What made this TJ Case guy do it?” Bobby waved his clenched fist around the room, watched a few slips loosen and flutter to the carpet. “And the gifted children project, what about it? I wondered about that all night. I mean, the man gave up a political career, changed parties, backed you, came to Washington—all for those kids. Can you understand it? The man’s destroyed any chance he had.”
“That’s not all he’s destroyed,” Silverwood said grimly. “We’re about to watch the man’s goose get burned to a crisp. Feathers and all.”
Marge opened his door. The expression in her eyes pretty much matched Bobby’s. “Norman Greenbaum’s secretary’s on line two. Says she’s been trying to get through to you for the past half hour.”
Bobby groaned. Silverwood waved him to silence, asked, “What does she want?”
“Secretary Edwards is in his office right now. They want to know if you can come over and shed some light on this issue. That’s exactly what she said. ‘Shed some light on this issue.’ ““They’re looking for a scapegoat,” Bobby muttered.
“I’m nobody’s goat—not even the President’s,” Silverwood muttered back. Then to his secretary, “Tell them I’ll be right there. Cancel my appointments for the rest of the morning.” He stood, said to Bobby, “Any idea what’s going on in the hearing this afternoon?”
“I’d lay you odds the thing’s canceled,” Bobby replied.
“You’re joking.”
“You think you’re the only one that’s got this on their hands?” Bobby waved the slips again. “Take a minute, drop in a couple of the offices. Watch a few nervous breakdowns in action.”
Congressman Silverwood stared at him. “The whole nation?”
Bobby nodded. “You were right when you said this thing was a bomb.”
****
Silverwood had never been inside the West Wing before; he found himself trying hard not to rubberneck. This was definitely not a time to show how green he was. To give them more space, the three men moved next door to the Cabinet Room. Outside the room’s large bay windows, unseasonably brilliant sunshine played across the bare trees and brown-green lawn. Silverwood saw no one moving.
“Sometimes I wonder if Americans haven’t decided that they’ll settle for the mediocre, just so long as it’s pure.” Secretary of the Department of Education Phil Edwards rolled his cigar carefully around the edge of the ashtray, trimming the ash to a smoldering cone.
Norman Greenbaum snorted. “Pure by who’s definition?”
Edwards gave his head a ponderous nod. “That’s part of the problem, no doubt about it. People get so afraid of being seen as impure, they don’t want to say anything at all. They’re afraid to take a risk, stick their necks out. These religious whackos and their warrior tactics have ’em feeling like their backs’re to the wall. They prefer to just melt into the crowd. And so the mediocre and the nut cases have a free reign.”
Greenbaum turned to Silverwood, said, “Your Mr. Case doesn’t seem too concerned with being a part of our team.”
“He’s not my anything,” Silverwood replied heatedly, furious that this was being hung around his neck. “You think I would’ve recommended him if I thought he’d pull a move like this?”
“The man is plain crazy,” Edwards said. “An uncontrollable maniac. The other side of the religious coin. Either they’re mediocre or they’re just plain whacko. That man’s a menace, mark my words. He’s bent on self-destruction, and aims on taking everybody within reach down with him.” He set his cigar in the ashtray and eyed Silverwood. “You didn’t have any idea beforehand of his being totally off the wall?”
“None whatsoever. TJ Case was very active in my campaign. He did an excellent job of bringing in the black vote. He was fanatic about the need for better education for exceptionally gifted children. That’s all.”
Secretary Edwards was not impressed. “Shoot, the man was in my office five minutes and I knew we had a major fruitcake on our hands. Know what he told me to do about shaping national policy? Pray. Can you imagine? The guy is something out of Loony Tunes.”
“He’ll be very active in your destruction, if you’re not careful.” The eyes behind Greenbaum’s horn-rimmed glasses were hard as stone and staring right at Silverwood. “If that man’s not put on a very short leash …”
“This is absurd!” Silverwood protested. “If I thought I was coming over here so you could pin the panic button on me, I’d have stayed in my office.” He stood up. “I’ve got better things to do with my time than play pass-the-blame with you gentlemen.”
“Sit down, Congressman.” Secretary Edwards did not seem the least bit put out by Silverwood’s anger. If anything, he seemed to approve. “Norm, there’s not a thing on earth we’re gonna accomplish by panicking. What we’ve got here is one fiery-eyed jerk who doesn’t know how to keep his mouth in line with official White House policy. The only thing that matters now is deciding what to do with him. I for one say the solution is easy as pie. Fire him.”
Chief of Staff Greenbaum was not so certain. “Do you have any idea how much publicity this thing has generated?”
“So what?” Secretary Edwards was adamant. “The guy’s talking about ripping apart the nation’s entire school system. Of course he’s got publicity. The man’s on the White House staff, he’s supposed to be an expert, you think we’re gonna let him stay on and just sweep this t
hing under the rug? I can’t believe we’re even discussing it. The man gets the chop. Period.”
Silverwood decided the best peace offering he could give Greenbaum was agreeing with his assessment. “Calls to our office are running ten to one in favor.”
“In favor of what?” Secretary Edwards’ face began turning red. “In favor of the total destruction of our national system of education? You think just because a few other religious whackos agree with him, this guy Case should be left in place?”
“It’s not just a few,” Silverwood said.
“As of nine o’clock this morning,” Greenbaum said, “the White House has received over eleven thousand calls.”
“You fellows can’t be serious. This guy wants to atom bomb our schools, and you’re sitting here talking about letting him stay on. I don’t believe I’m hearing you say this.”
“I personally think we need some kind of counterproposal,” Greenbaum said. “Something we can offer at the same time that the President announces Case’s resignation.”
An idea struck Silverwood like a bolt of lightning. “What if we could get Case to come out in favor of our own proposal?”
“You gotta be kidding,” Edwards said. “The only thing I want to see that guy come out for is his funeral.”
Greenbaum leaned forward. “What would make him agree to a thing like that?”
“A firm promise to put his gifted children policy into action.”
“Not on your life!” Edwards exploded.
But Greenbaum ignored him entirely. “You think all this could be just a publicity stunt to put our backs to the wall?”
Silverwood had not thought of that. “Before yesterday I would have said no way. The guy’s too straightforward. Now,” he shrugged. “I don’t see why he’d go to such an extreme. I mean, it’s not like we’ve already axed his proposal or anything.”
“No, I suppose not,” Greenbaum mused. “You really think that might be enough to bring him around?”
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