Welcome to Newtonberg

by David Emprimo

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  Saturday morning they were in the early stages of their game at the Newtonberg Country Club Golf Course, such as it was. The Country Club itself was actually the Widow Missus's Boarding House. The dining area was the parlor and the proper dining room, which together had five or six small tables for diners. Her boarders were only guaranteed breakfast and dinner in their signed agreements; lunchtime was reserved for Country Club members.

  Brother Jim had pulled last to putt. The Golf Course actually only had enough land for three holes, so you played them six times to make a full eighteen-hole game. Familiarity with the holes meant low scores were common (when people bothered to keep score), and holes-in-one happened frequently. Exercise was the main reason for playing there; real competitive players had to drive elsewhere.

  As they started their second pass at the third hole (which would have been hole six had they been keeping score), Brother Jim decided it was time to bring up the problem of the impending revival.

  "Do either of you know anything about this Evangelist Albert Chamberlain?" he asked as he lined up his shot.

  "You mean the old shyster who's bringing his traveling circus to town?" replied Father Louis.

  "That's the one."

  "I haven't met the man personally," said the Reverend Stanley. "My brother, who has a church in Lewiston, had dealings with him a few years back. Said he was a nasty piece of work."

  "So, he's totally off the mark?" said Brother Jim, taking a whack at the ball. Slice. Darn.

  "About as much as you were there," said Father Louis, and they all had a good laugh at it.

  "I never claimed to be Arnold Palmer," said Brother Jim, as they trudged in the general direction of the sliced ball. "So, what about this Chamberlain? Do you think we'll have any trouble out of him?"

  "Well, in my brother's experience, what it mainly did was stir up troubles with the worship service," said the Reverend Stanley.

  "Troubles in the worship service?"

  "Yes, you know – hands in the air, shouting 'hallelujah' and 'amen" at inopportune moments, present questions about the validity of faith healing and of speaking in tongues…"

  "Oh."

  "Things like that."

  "Well. Do either of you have any ideas to 'head him off at the pass', so to speak?"

  Father Louis looked at him. "I don't follow."

  "Are you going to warn your church members not to go or anything?"

  Father Louis sighed. "I don't see where it's my place to tell them where they can and cannot go on their own time. I say, let them go, and then let me talk to them and explain spiritual issues they may be dealing with as a result."

  "So you have no problems if one of your members thinks they were 'healed' as a result of this Chamberlain fellow?"

  "On the contrary, I welcome it. When the heat of the moment is over, and that old back problem or knee injury returns to haunt them, it will give me an opportunity to educate them."

  Brother Jim had to admit that was a pretty sound argument, and Reverend Stanley agreed. But there was still one nagging thought, and he voiced it.

  "What about salvation? What if, as a result of this traveling tent show, someone thinks they're 'saved' and then wants to join your church?"

  There was a little hemming and hawing, and then the priest spoke.

  "What do you mean, 'thinks' they're saved?"

  "Well, what if they show up on Sunday morning, say 'I got saved yesterday and I want to join your church'? What then? I mean, all of our churches require salvation as a prerequisite for membership, correct?"

  "You mean, are they really saved or are they just under some delusion that they are?"

  "Exactly."

  There was a brief pause while they thought about it. Finally Reverend Stanley spoke.

  "Well, I guess that's between them and God, isn't it?"