Across town in a shaded neighborhood stood the Second Combined Church of the Ecumenical Resolution. Many years ago, it had been a Methodist church, then had slowly converted into a Baptist congregation, then had been a hybrid between the two, and had evolved over the years into more of a new-wave style of church. Members had come and gone, such that the congregation today had very few of the members from thirty years before, or even the offspring of those members. The church today was more modern in spirit, but the members were generally older than average; it was a contradiction of sorts, just like the history of its general membership had been, and its affiliation.
One thing had been constant, for the last thirty-two years: the Reverend Lucas Elrod. Lucas Elrod was born in western Oklahoma at the beginning of the panhandle portion of that state. He was raised in a small town; his father had been a minister. Lucas had gone to school to be a minister, and had settled into a small church in southern Oklahoma, about a hundred and fifty miles away from his birthplace. He was there for a year or so, then had moved to Texas and had pastored at several churches in central western Texas, from the north end of the state to close to the Mexico border. His longest run at a church in Texas had been a little over two years.
Rumors had dogged him. The general story was that he had left town just before being held to account for having an improper dalliance with a female member of the church. By the time deacons at his current church had checked back thoroughly on his employment at earlier churches, and had finally managed to get deacons at the earlier churches to be forthcoming, and the story had emerged, the young Reverend Lucas Elrod had moved on to yet another church in another town. It was easier to do that at that time; news simply didn’t travel as fast or as consistently from town to town as it did in the days of cheap long distance calls, e-mails and the Internet.
Then, well over thirty years ago, Reverend Elrod had left Texas—vanished in a flash, it seemed. There were no outstanding accusations about him at the time in the local town where he preached, and those who were trying to catch up with his reputation, by the time they arrived to the little town, wondered what he had done to make him leave so quickly. But the residents in the little town couldn’t explain it to them; he was simply gone. One day he was there, and one day he wasn’t. No one knew the answer, and it remained a mystery during the years that followed.
Not long after that, though, he turned up in Tennessee. First, he was in southwestern Tennessee, near Memphis. He told people that he met that he had heard that Tennessee was one of the nicest places to live, and that the area he had settled in was the nicest of the nicest. But he didn’t stay long there. Nashville beckoned, and he couldn’t ignore it. He had traveled there a few times, and right away he sensed that Nashville was a much more suitable place for his talents. It was difficult even for him to describe, but it was a combination of religious fervor, a certain openness on the part of the people—openness to hearing a message, and hearing it repeated over and over—and a certain trust spread far and wide.
He had taken over the church that he currently had almost immediately upon his arrival. The last pastor had retired, or been forced to resign because of advanced age, and membership had been steadily declining, to a point where the building wasn’t even one-quarter filled on the most well-attended Sunday. Reverend Elrod had immediately seized upon the challenge, and after interviewing for the job, had impressed the elders at that time to take him on, having convinced them that he was the man to turn things around.
Apparently, Reverend Elrod had learned how to “keep his skirts clean.” There had been no serious scandal in the church during his tenure there, although there had been many changes. Reverend Elrod had watched over the years at the change in demographics, attitudes, trends, and other factors that caused individuals to attend one church or another. He had experienced serious dips in membership, followed by tremendous surges in membership, followed by another dip, then another surge—an ecclesiastical rollercoaster of sorts. There had been times when he had thought of moving on, starting afresh somewhere else, much like his old days in Texas, but for different reasons. But he had toughed it out; he sensed his home was in Nashville. Like other preachers, he had gradually gotten to know a number of city and civic leaders, including politicians, and had managed to gather up some influence that was beneficial to him and the church at times.
The church membership had changed so much over the thirty-year period that Reverend Elrod stood as the only constant during that period. Yes, there were certain individuals, a few, who had been there almost that entire time, although none who had been there the entire time. But most members at any given time, probably a solid majority, had not been there more than ten years, and those ten-year periods sometimes barely overlapped. Older members would move on, at the same time that younger members were coming in. And yet the average age of the congregation stayed around the same, the late forties.
First up this morning was another counseling session for a divorced woman. She had come to him when her marriage was on the rocks, and had brought along her now ex-husband several times. Reverend Elrod had patiently listened to their stories, and had offered routine advice here and there, mostly lending a sympathetic ear. His own attitude was that he could not really save a marriage, and many times he wasn’t even sure he wanted to. He always took a greater interest in the woman than the man, and sometimes gave the impression that he was siding with her in any type of issue in dispute. That seemed to aggravate the situation, at least internally within the couple, although most men never openly acknowledged it to him. The pastor still held sway over the couple, or perhaps they wouldn’t have attended his church in the first place. It was true, however, that most of the men, once divorced, left the church and went elsewhere.
This morning, he was going to see a woman who had attended the church for six or seven years. She and her husband had divorced only recently, after a short separation, and the reverend had offered to keep counseling her during her recovery period. Although he had seen her at the church during weekday hours on a number of occasions, at a certain point he began to suggest that he call upon her at her apartment. He was heading out the door of the church for just such a meeting.
Reverend Elrod had been married twice himself over the years, never for more than five years. He felt his own experience in two failed marriages gave him a good perspective on what happens within marriages, and why they fail. He often felt that a couple should acknowledge the failure rather than to attempt to salvage the marriage. He knew that worked out better for him as well; it left the woman free and vulnerable in most cases.
He was not unaware of his predicament. He knew that he was playing with fire, as he always had, but he had accepted that he was too far along to stop. His wants and needs were too ingrained within him for him to just casually toss it away. And he didn’t see a ready substitute in sight, so he vowed to continue. And be careful—ever so careful.
Nashville: The Mood (Part 2) Page 12
