Comfort and Affliction

by Michael Frosolono

  Eric asked, “You need to see me? I’m intrigued.”

  “Yes,” the bishop said. “Before we get to why we invited you here, we’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  “Ask away.” Eric guessed to himself that the forthcoming questions had something to do with his Army service.

  Reverend Wright asked, “With your background, have you considered requesting an appointment as a chaplain in the Army or another branch of the armed forces?”

  “I considered military chaplaincy; I decided against it.”

  “May I ask why?” Bishop Lyon asked.

  “I am a highly trained warrior who led comrades into combat in defense of this country. Chaplains must be noncombatants. If I am in a combat zone, I may be unable to remain a noncombatant.” Eric paused before continuing. “I hope you will not lead me into temptation. I may be unable to resist the allure of violence and the emotional high of combat.”

  “You say combat gives you an emotional high?” Reverend Wright asked. “I thought you would be scared, even terrified.”

  “Training allows warriors to fight even under terrifying conditions. We don’t talk much about the emotional high.”

  “Tell us about the phenomenon, if you will,” Reverend Wright said.

  “In combat,” Eric said, “only one rule applies—kill or be killed. Past and future do not exist. The present expands and the constraints of civilian society disappear. Some warriors like me learn to enjoy committing violence—even killing—when normal rules impair survival. Under those circumstances, warriors can experience great freedom and the accompanying emotional high.”

  Bishop Lyon recited, “‘For those regarded as warriors when engaged in combat, the vanquishing of thine enemy can be the warrior’s only concern. Suppress all human emotion and compassion. Kill whoever stands in thy way, even if that be Lord God, or Buddha himself. This truth lies at the heart of the art of combat.’”

  Eric said, “The author understood what I’m talking about.”

  “The quote comes from Hattori Hanzo, a character in a movie, Kill Bill, Vol. 1,” the bishop said. “The original Hattori Hanzo was a samurai and ninja master in the second half of 16th Century Japan.”

  “Jacob, I didn’t know your eclectic tastes included Quentin Tarantino movies,” Reverend Wright said.

  “Because I’m a bishop doesn’t mean I can’t watch cultural events like the Kill Bill movies with my teenage grandson. The quote in the movie intrigued me. I did an Internet search, found the quote, and it stuck with me. I might alter the quote one day for a sermon on single-minded devotion to our Lord.” The bishop turned to Eric. “What you have described could easily apply to how some people report reacting to the Holy Spirit, without the violence of combat.”

  “For some people,” Eric said.

  “How do you reconcile your commitment to, and actions in, your former profession with our denominational stand on war?” Reverend Wright asked.

  Eric cleared his mind until he recalled the relevant section in the United Methodist Church’s 2008 Book of Discipline. “We believe war is incompatible with the teachings and example of Christ. We therefore reject war as an instrument of national policy. We oppose unilateral first or preemptive strike actions and strategies on the part of any government. As Disciples of Christ, we are called to love our enemies, seek justice, and serve as reconcilers of conflict. We insist that the first moral duty of all nations is to work together to resolve by peaceful means every dispute that arises among them.” Eric skipped ahead. “Consequently, we endorse general and complete disarmament under strict and effective international control.”

  “Surely,” Bishop Lyon asked, “you don’t have the entire book memorized?”

  “Only the parts that interest me the most. I know where to find the other sections.”

  “Nevertheless, how would you respond to Paul’s question in view of what you just recited?”

  “In order for those statements in the Book of Discipline to have any effect on war, all sides must agree to the commonality of the language and terms. Evil exists, and sometimes we must take up arms in our defense.”

  “I take it you don’t agree with Christian Pacifism,” the bishop said.

  “In theory, Bishop Lyon, not in practice in today’s world. Brave men and women go into harm’s way to allow some of our citizens to be pacifists, who get a free ride on the blood of others.”

  “Do you advocate just or righteous wars?” Reverend Wright asked.

  “Not at all. I don’t believe in just war theory. To my knowledge, no war has ever been fought between forces of absolute good and absolute evil. When going to war, we can only make a choice between lesser and greater evils.”

  “God help us to choose wisely,” Reverend Wright said.

  “I have well-placed friends in the Army,” Bishop Lyon said. “They will not comment on you other than to state you served with great distinction and valor, as reflected by your Medal of Honor. My friends gave me the impression you engaged in activities other than those of a line officer.” Eric did not respond. “Sounds like Delta Force to me.”

  “Some things should remain beyond confidential, for the safety of all concerned,” Eric said.

  “Well, no matter, Eric,” the bishop said. “If you need help fighting demons from your past, I’m available.”

  “Thanks. I’ll keep your offer in mind.” Eric did not discount it. He understood the bishop contended daily with demons plaguing the church and society.

  “Pastoral assignments can change, sometimes quickly. We send our ministers to the churches we think need specific pastors in view of their graces and gifts.” Bishop Lyon smiled. “Also, to where we think would best suit the ministers and their needs.”

  Reverend Wright cleared his throat and added, “The assignment you were given at Annual Conference earlier this month has been superseded. You will no longer return to Athens First United Methodist as an assistant pastor. You have been reassigned as senior pastor at Aldersgate United in Vickery.”

  “Eric, will you accept the new assignment?” the bishop asked.

  “I will.”

  “Are you familiar with the city of Vickery?” Reverend Wright asked.

  “A year or so ago, some friends from Chandler and I enjoyed a long weekend fishing on Lake Hartwell,” Eric said, referring to the Chandler School of Theology at Emory University in Atlanta. “We spent the nights in a cabin on the lake and ate several meals at restaurants in the city.”

  “Do you like to fish?” Reverend Wright asked.

  “No. I markedly prefer to catch.”

  The bishop and district superintendent chuckled. “Let me continue,” the bishop said. “Reverend Clarence Mason, the former pastor at Aldersgate, died unexpectedly a few days ago, after we announced pastoral assignments at Annual Conference. He stayed at the church for a long time, longer than we would have preferred. Most of the congregation either liked or tolerated him, and he was happy there. Seems as if he had family in the area.”

  “Did you ever meet Reverend Mason?” Reverend Wright asked Eric.

  “I sat beside him at dinner one evening during Annual Conference last year in Athens.”

  “What did you think of him?” Bishop Lyon asked. When Eric hesitated, the bishop insisted, “As a former Army officer, you understand the importance of telling the truth to your commanding officer.”

  “Reverend Mason exhibited the characteristics of a theological idiot with an antediluvian understanding of politics.”

  The bishop and district superintendent broke out into unrestrained laughter. “Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Bishop Lyon said. “But Reverend Mason reflected the mindset of many congregants at Aldersgate.” He picked up a large manila envelope from his desk. “Here’s some material our Conference long-range planning group prepared on the church and surrounding area. The city was named after one of the founding citizens, a leading member of a group of investors responsible for bringing the railroad thro
ugh Northeast Georgia in the 1870s. The Corps of Engineers dammed the Tugaloo River in the 1960s to form Lake Hartwell, in order to supply backup electric power to the Savannah River nuclear site. Lake Hartwell, with its thousand-mile shoreline at full pool, contains the largest body of fresh water on the East Coast. The lake has been called a hidden jewel because relatively few people know about it. At about the same time Lake Hartwell came into existence, Interstate 85 was constructed through Alexander County. I-85 became a major connector, with extensive truck traffic moving goods between Atlanta and points north and south.”

  “I saw the truck traffic first hand,” Eric said.

  The bishop continued. “I-85 and Lake Hartwell opened up a large swath of Northeast Georgia to commercial interests, and for relatively affluent people in Atlanta to build homes on the lake. Although the present Great Recession slowed commercial activity, several major companies have built, or contemplate constructing, facilities in the area. The executives of these companies want good places to live with good schools and good public services. Lake Hartwell attracts these people.”

  “These newcomers will need a good church home,” Eric said.

  “An important aspect of your assignment, Eric,” the district superintendent said.

  “Sounds like a challenge,” Eric said.

  The bishop gave the envelope to Eric. “Study these materials. They may help you understand the arena into which we’re sending you. Do you have any questions?”

  “Is there a parsonage with the church?”

  “A large and well-apportioned parsonage comes with the appointment, Eric. You’ll have plenty of room. Any more questions?” the district superintendent said.

  “Not at this time. I travel light and can move into the parsonage in a couple of days,” Eric said.

  The bishop stood up to indicate the end of the meeting and shook hands. “Eric, our brother in Christ, preach the Gospel at Aldersgate and do not countenance retrograde religious doctrines or, as you so elegantly stated, antediluvian politics within the church.”

  “We’re here to help,” Reverend Wright said. “We understand the difficulty of the assignment. Keep the faith.”

  After Eric left the office, Reverend Wright asked, “Does Eric realize what we’ve sent him into at Aldersgate?”

  “I think he has a good idea, Paul,” Bishop Lyon said. “He’s accustomed to difficult, even dangerous situations.”

  “What did you think about the papers he wrote at Chandler, the ones I sent you when we first considered him for this assignment?”

  “Extraordinarily well-thought out and well-written,” the bishop said. “I’m surprised a man with his background espouses such a liberal theology, essentially in keeping with our own, except perhaps for his ideas on war. We might enjoy exploring that subject with him sometimes. Based upon his writings, I suspect Eric believes his overall theology closely corresponds to the fundamental message of the Gospel rather than being liberal in the modern context.”

  “Even so, Jacob, I have some concerns,” Reverend Wright said.

  “Specifically?” the bishop asked.

  “Challenging the congregation on theological issues and the application of the Gospel will incense the extreme right-wingers in Vickery and the county.”

  “Yes,” the bishop said, “the proponents of that persuasion at Aldersgate are accustomed to having their aberrant theology sanction and confirm their retrograde politics. Reverend Mason became their natural ally.”

  “The Southern Restoration Movement has a real foothold in Alexander County,” Reverend Wright said.

  “It does. I wonder how many congregants at Aldersgate belong to, or sympathize with, the Restorers?” the bishop asked. The question was rhetorical because the Restorers’ nature was secretive.

  “There must be some, and the Restorer wing-nuts have a history of violence. They will abhor Eric’s theology when he begins to preach,” Reverend Wright said.

  “The Restorers claim to be super-patriots uninterested in reestablishing the old Confederacy,” the bishop said. “Yet they officially maintain that white, Anglo-Saxon Protestants must have political supremacy in the South and then in the U.S. in order to preserve the union. It’s a twisted logic.”

  “I’m willing to bet most of their members actually want a new Confederacy independent of the U.S.”

  “I won’t take that bet,” the bishop said.

  “According to the rumors I hear, many law enforcement officials appear to be either members or sympathizers,” Reverend Wright said.

  “We’re assigning Eric to stir up things at Aldersgate,” the bishop said. “He’s not some innocent lamb being sent to the slaughter, and he probably survived his combat experiences in large part because he can sense danger. He’ll certainly reconnoiter the battlefield.”

  “Eric will have some allies.”

  “You’re referring to Elizabeth Andrews?” the bishop asked.

  “Among a few others, but she’s been quite vocal to me about replacing Reverend Mason with a more modern thinker.”

  “Has she attempted to use her wealth and position to influence the matter?” the bishop asked.

  “No,” Reverend Wright laughed, “although such a tactic would not conflict with her character. She’s a member of the SPRC and understands the desirability of following church administrative procedures, when such a path suits her,” he said, referring to the Staff Parish Relations Committee.

  The SPRC is a crucial organization in every local United Methodist Church. In addition to providing administrative interactions between the minister and staff with the congregation, it is the official link between the church and the district superintendent, who in turns reports to the bishop.

  “She’s impatient for change at Aldersgate?” the bishop asked.

  “Indeed. I think she and Reverend Mason’s wife were great friends, which could explain why Mrs. Andrews hasn’t made her concerns more public before now.”

  “Paul, we can’t afford to let Aldersgate stagnate any longer. That church must move into the twenty-first century or its downward slide may not be stopped.”

  The district superintendent nodded in agreement. “Precisely why we’re sending Eric there, to push and pull the church forward.”

  Bishop Lyon said, “We must pray for the Holy Spirit to keep Eric’s senses alert, to guide, to empower, and to protect him.”

  “So we shall, Jacob.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Sunday, 29 June

  The fifteen-person choir at Aldersgate United Methodist Church began an enhanced rendition of Methodism’s hallmark hymn, “O for a Thousand Tongues to Sing”. The choir, under the leadership of John Carlyle and with the accompaniment of a concert grand piano and pipe organ, produced an almost professional level of music. Eric looked forward to interacting with the minister of music, who appeared to be about age seventy.

  When the music ended, Eric stood behind the primary pulpit. “Good morning, Brothers and Sisters in Christ!” Only a few Good mornings were returned from the approximately seventy-five congregants. Eric saw affirming responses from Elizabeth Andrews, who sat in her wheelchair near the central aisle at the second pew in front of him, and the tall black man, Jackson Williams, in the pew beside her. Sections had been removed from the first two pews to accommodate the wheelchair while leaving the central aisle unobstructed. An attractive woman and teenage boy, presumably her son, sitting to the right of Jackson, also returned Eric’s greeting.

  Eric had met Mrs. Andrews and Jackson at his introductory session with the SPRC. Jackson had left soon after bringing Mrs. Andrews into the room, and returned to collect her when the meeting ended. Eric understood Mrs. Andrews, or Miz Lizbeth, as most members of the committee called her, was a force within some segments of the Aldersgate congregation.

  “Let’s try again,” Eric said in a stronger voice. “Good morning, Brothers and Sisters in Christ!” More congregants replied. Eric then used a slightly less than full version of his comm
and voice, “Good morning, Brothers and Sisters in Christ!” The majority of the congregants finally replied with Good mornings.

  Eric turned toward the choir behind him. “Thank you for the wonderful adaptation of our great hymn of exultation. The SPRC informed me about our excellent music program at Aldersgate United. Your reputation and reality coincide.” Most members of the choir grinned while John Carlyle waved to Eric. “I look forward to more examples of your ministry in music.

  “Thank you,” Eric said to the congregation, “for the welcome many of you have given me, a welcome all the more generous considering how devastated you must feel over the unexpected loss of your pastor, Clarence Mason. I met Reverend Mason at Annual Conference last year. I am sure he did his best to serve our Lord and this congregation.

  “I also want to thank the Parsonage Committee for preparing the home for my arrival. I perplexed some members of that committee with the abject paucity of furniture I brought with me. I’ve never had the opportunity or desire to acquire any furniture before now. From the time I entered West Point until I returned to civilian life, I lived in quarters, or billets, the U.S. Army provided. I rented furnished apartments while I attended Chandler School of Theology and for my first pastoral assignment. In case you’re wondering, I did bring an excellent air mattress to sleep on. I like modern furniture, and will begin buying some items in the next few days.

  “Along with the air mattress and my clothes, I have my TV, computers, iPhone, and Ford Explorer, which account for almost all of my worldly possessions. When the local cable company comes to the parsonage, I’ll be connected with the world. Next week’s bulletin will list my contact information. In the interim, if you need or want me, call on my iPhone.” Eric gave the number three times. “Also, you can call the church and Ms. Mary Johnson will put you in contact with me. Ms. Johnson has agreed to remain as church secretary. I’m sure she’ll be invaluable in orienting me to this congregation and the city of Vickery.”

  Eric moved to the crux of the sermon, speaking as usual without notes.