And the Shofar Blew (9 page)

Paul watched Stephen Decker leave the gathering in the courtyard. Annoyed and depressed, he let his shoulders slump. “I am sick and tired of Hollis Sawyer’s complaints.”

“I won’t make excuses for him, Paul, but traditions do have their place and should be taken into account.”

He wasn’t in the mood for more sage advice from Samuel Mason, either. If these old men had their way, the church would continue to die, shrouded in tradition. “It’s tradition that’s strangling this church.” He strove to keep his voice quiet, his emotions hidden from onlookers. He didn’t want people noticing that something was amiss between him and another elder. It was bad enough that Hollis had chosen to break up his conversation with Stephen Decker and then march off in a huff. Centerville Christian needed more men like Stephen Decker coming through its doors, affluent professionals in their mid-thirties with years of service ahead of them. Instead, the church was glutted with tired, broken-down old men and women convinced a church could function without changing its old ways. This church hadn’t been working for a long time. “What difference does it make if the Bible on the pulpit is King James or the New International Version?”

“It matters to Hollis. As well as others.”

“The idea is to communicate the gospel, not cloak it in language no one uses anymore, let alone understands.”

“And they shall know us by our love, Paul.”

Heat came up inside Paul. Those gently spoken words cut him to the quick. Was Samuel saying he lacked love? Hadn’t he shown his love by pouring every bit of his energy into getting this church back on its feet? “I can love Hollis, Samuel, and I do. He’s my Christian brother. But that doesn’t mean I have to give in to him on everything.”

“It isn’t a matter of giving in. The King James Bible in question was given to the church by one of the founding members.”

“Jesus is the founder of this church, Samuel.”

“I won’t debate you on that point.”

“I would hope not.”

“Still, it never pays to burn bridges.”

Why not, if they were rotting wooden structures that should be replaced with steel and macadam? The elder’s remark roused the old fear of failure. “I’m not trying to burn bridges, Samuel. I’m trying to build a church.”

“Then a little compromise is in order.”

The word
compromise
raised Paul’s hackles. When would these old people get it through their heads that the church was a living, breathing organism and stop looking at it like a diorama in a museum? If he gave in to Hollis, he’d have Otis Harrison in his office next, trying to have all the music changed back to dry old hymns. Or some other member would want the order of worship changed back to the way Henry Porter did it for four decades! Their fear of change was what was behind every complaint. Their cry was always the same:Don’t change anything! The sooner Paul filled this church with new blood, the sooner he would have help in making this church something that would please God.

In the meantime, he had to resign himself to dealing with these cantankerous old men and women. At the last elders’ meeting, Paul had suggested recruiting deacons and deaconesses from the growing congregation. In typical fashion, Hollis and Otis balked. They said they didn’t know enough about the newcomers to nominate any of them. Otis insisted men and women should be members in good standing for five years minimum before they should be considered for any kind of leadership. Which, of course, effectively eliminated everyone in the congregation who was under the age of fifty. What better way to deadlock a growing congregation and keep it under the tightfisted reign of a couple of elders?

The meeting had ended with nothing being accomplished. Again. Samuel Mason said, again, to be patient, to pray, and to wait upon the Lord. What were they waiting for? Paul was never quite sure where Samuel Mason stood. Was he just another one of the good old boys who had been around since the beginning of time and wanted everything to stay the same? Or was he a progressive thinker? Was he willing to risk old friendships to bring the revival he claimed he’d been praying for over the past ten years?

Paul didn’t know. So he kept his own counsel and didn’t share his thoughts with Mason. Paul thought it better to seek out allies of his own generation who would come alongside him and move this church successfully into the twentieth century where it belonged, rather than try to change the mind-set of two old men determined to keep things status quo.

And now, here they were again, going over the same old ground.

“I’ll pray about it, Samuel.” Mason wouldn’t argue with that. “Why don’t we join the others and have some coffee?”

Eunice had that worried look in her eyes. “Is everything all right, Paul?”

“We’ll talk about it later. Mingle.”

As the gathering thinned out, several of the ladies carried the punch bowl and empty cookie trays into the kitchen. The extra paper plates and napkins were put away. Eunice shook out the yellow tablecloths and gathered them up as she headed home with Timmy. She would wash, iron, and bring them back for next week’s fellowship hour.

“I’ll just be a minute.” Paul headed back to lock up the doors of the church. He glanced through the notes in the suggestion box. Mostly complaints from old members. He wadded them up and threw them into the trash can in his office. He went back into the kitchen and encouraged the ladies to move their gab session to a local coffee shop so he could lock up the fellowship hall and head home. They departed quickly.

It was a little after two when he walked in the front door of the parsonage. Eunice had classical music playing on the radio. Timmy sat at the small kitchen table, dipping his peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich into his tomato soup.

“I’m sorry we didn’t wait,” Eunice said. “He was starving, and I wasn’t sure how long you’d be.”

He kissed her. “Gladys was the last one out the door, and you know how she is. I walked her to her car. Even got her into it, but then she rolled down her window and asked me another one of her philosophical questions that would take a college course to answer.”

“She’s a retired teacher.”

“I should’ve guessed.” He sank into a chair with a sigh of relief. Eunice gave him a large mug of hot soup. Then she set a sandwich in front of him and sat with him. Paul took her hand. “Thank You, Father, for all who came to our Sunday service today. We ask that those who were new felt welcome and will return. We ask that You would soften the hearts of others. Give them Your vision so that they can see what can be, instead of what has been. Thank You for this food and for the hands that prepared it. Please bless it for our bodies’ use. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

The troubled look on Eunice’s face bothered Paul. What was wrong now?

“Can I play, Mommy?”

“Ask your father.”

“Can I, Daddy?”

Paul excused him. “Put your mug and plate on the sink counter, Tim. That’ll help your mother.” Timmy gathered his things and did as asked.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Eunice kissed their son and gave him a loving pat on his backside. “You can play for a while and then it’ll be bath-time.”

Paul saw the crestfallen look on his son’s face and scooped him up. “Maybe we can play later this afternoon.” He kissed him and set him down.

“You haven’t had much time with him lately,” Eunice said.

“I know.” When was the last time he’d played in the yard with his son? He’d try hard to make time. “Hollis Sawyer was upset because I put away the King James Bible.” He took a bite of his sandwich. “He wants it put back on the pulpit. Samuel wants me to compromise.”

“Abby thought it might have something to do with the Bible. She said one of the founders—”

“Samuel told me. It was all right to use the King James Version when it was only the original members attending services, Euny, but we have new members who give me blank stares when I read from it. I’m not using it anymore.”

“Where did you put it?”

“In my office.”

“In a box or on a shelf?”

He was fast losing his appetite. Was she reminding him of the stir of outrage when he had boxed up all of Henry Porter’s old reference books? “On the shelf.”

“Maybe you could put it on a stand in the narthex.”

“To satisfy Hollis?”

“To give it a place of honor. The Bible is the basis of all your teaching. You agree with these men on that. And this particular Bible has historical significance to Centerville Christian. It would comfort the older members of our congregation to see it before entering the sanctuary. It would give them a sense of continuity. You could talk to Samuel about it first. See what he thinks about the idea. You know he will do everything he can to encourage the others to work with you for the good of the congregation.”

He resented being made to feel like a little boy who had to check everything through his elder. But what Eunice said made sense. He had enough trouble with Hollis and Otis without creating more. Until he was able to add new elders who could understand what he was doing, he was going to have to do whatever he could to prevent more waves from swelling and sinking the ship.

“It’s too bad Hollis Sawyer and Otis Harrison don’t have something better to do with their time than hunt for things to cause dissension.”

Eunice smiled tenderly. “I don’t think they willfully cause dissension, Paul. They are the last of the old guard who have kept this congregation alive. They think you don’t value their traditions and the hard work it took to keep Centerville Christian Church alive.”

“They would’ve had better luck if they’d changed with the times.”

“Not all things should change, Paul, least of all our love for one another as brothers and sisters.”

His stomach knotted. “I have nothing but respect for their faithfulness.”

“I know that, but they don’t. You have to show them.”

“How, Eunice? Neither Hollis nor Otis can get through a meeting without digressing. And now, Hollis is so mad, I doubt he’ll listen to Samuel, let alone me.” He was sick of these old men trying to run his church.

“First of all, apologize for removing the Bible, and don’t make any excuses.”

“Now just a minute!”

“Hear me out, Paul. Please.”

He struggled for control over his temper. “Okay. What do you suggest?”

“You could set aside ten minutes in the next few services and have each of them give their testimonies to the congregation. How did they come to Christ? How has this church helped them walk in faith over the decades? What are their hopes for Centerville Christian?”

“Eunice, do you know these men at all?”

“Yes, I do.” She spoke quietly.

“Then you’re aware that neither one can say anything in under thirty minutes. If I gave Otis a microphone, we’d be sitting in Sunday services until the Second Coming.”

“Paul . . . ”

“No way.”

“Aren’t you interested in knowing anything about them?”

“The point isn’t whether I’d be interested, but whether the congregation would be interested.”

“As pastor, it’s your job to teach your people how to love one another. How can you teach them to love these men who are their elders if you can’t love them yourself?”

“I do love them.”

She looked at him. She didn’t have to say another word for him to know what she was thinking. And grudgingly he had to admit she was right. He had been neither patient nor kind to these two venerable old gentlemen. They grated on his nerves and he resented their interference. He had ignored their suggestions and done what he thought best for the church. “Someone has to be in charge, Eunice. Otherwise this place will be in complete confusion.”

“Jesus is in charge, Paul. You know that better than anyone. You know, too, that Samuel has prayed for years for this church to be revived.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do! I’d think you of all people would understand how hard I’m working to that end.”

“You’ve been called here to fan the flame, Paul, not throw fuel on a fire that could burn this church down.”

He tossed his napkin on the table. “And removing the Bible from the pulpit could bring everything down? You’re a woman. You don’t understand about managing a church or—”

Her eyes flashed. “You’ve always told me I should speak up when I see anything amiss.”

“Why are you so determined to find fault with my ministry?” Even as he said it, he knew he was being unfair, but he wasn’t about to apologize.

“I’m not finding fault, Paul. I’m trying to help you understand these men.”

Her eyes were shiny with tears. For whom? Her husband or those men who were always giving him trouble?

She leaned toward him. “Hollis Sawyer served in the Philippines during World War II. He survived the Bataan death march. Most of the men he served with were not so fortunate. He said it was during that time that he turned to Christ. He needed his faith because when he returned stateside, he found out the high school sweetheart he had married was living with someone she’d met while working in a factory. No one had ever been divorced in his family. He was the first and it was devastating. But then, he met and married his second wife, Denise, after he was in a construction accident. She was the nurse who took care of him. They had three children together. One daughter was born with Down syndrome and died in her early twenties. His two sons married and moved to the East Coast. Denise died of bone cancer eight years ago. Hollis took care of her in their own home up until the last.”

She wiped a tear from her cheek. “Otis Harrison served in the army during the war, but he was on the European front as a medic. He was mayor of Centerville from 1972 until 1976. He was reelected in 1986 and then stepped down due to Mabel’s health and served on the town council for another three years. He’s now taking care of his wife of forty-eight years. Mabel suffers from congenital heart disease. She’s famous around Centerville, Paul. Did you know she won two national cooking contests?

“And Samuel Mason. Samuel was a B-17 gunner and flew more than thirty bombing runs over Germany before being shot down. Abby was a teacher at the local high school. She taught civics. Students still stop by to visit her. One came by the last time I was visiting, and he told me Abby was the one who believed in him and got him to apply to college.”