“It’s just a continuation of what we talked about concerning the church.” I sighed. “The situation just gets more complicated. We had a beautiful service for Mrs. Stoner this morning, but Mr. Stoner is furious with me because it wasn’t what he wanted it to be…even though I tried my best to do it right. I think the thing that rankled him most was that I asked for folks to be forgiving. It’s what we Christians are supposed to do regardless of how awful things may be. Mr. Stoner isn’t feeling very forgiving right now, and I think I may be near the top of his black list.”
Brandon shrugged. “Tyler Wooten’s dead. Who else is there for him to be hating so bad?” I saw it as a throwaway line—more of a statement than a question, as though he really didn’t care about an answer.
“Tyler’s mom. He and, I guess, a lot of other people think she’s responsible for what the boy did.”
For some reason, that answer seemed to get Brandon’s attention, probably because he was still trying to figure out the whole thing himself. He sat down across from me.
“What do you think?”
Wow, he asked my opinion. I folded my hands over my chest, gave him my most serious look, and leaned back into the chair. “I think they’re wrong. I’ve met the woman, and she seems okay to me. She says the problem with Tyler was that he and his dad were really close, and then his dad died. Tyler seemed lost after that and resentful of everything…as though he blamed his father for dying. I think Mrs. Wooten did all she could to reach Tyler, but she just couldn’t do it. She had no idea he would end up doing what he did.”
“Weird.” Brandon screwed his mouth to one side.
“Now, to complicate the matter further, I have agreed to have a funeral service for Tyler tomorrow. When Mr. Stoner finds that out, my name really will be mud.”
He became more animated, as if to defend me. “Well, what’s the big deal about what Mr. Stoner thinks?”
“He is the big deal at Incarnation Church. What he says goes. It could mean that I—we—may be the ones who are going.”
Shock registered on Brandon’s face. “You mean moving, leaving Belvedere, our home, and all our friends?”
Maybe it was a big mistake to bring up such a possibility at that time. My excuse for doing so was probably that Brandon was engaging in a meaningful conversation for the first time in a long time. Maybe that caught me off guard and got my mouth going when I should have been using my brain instead. Anyway, the cat was out of the bag.
Jayne gave me a questioning and troubled look but said nothing.
“We’ve got to face up to the fact that that could happen as a result of all of this.” I reached out to lay my hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. Believe me, son, I’m doing the best I can. It’s just that things don’t always work out as we want them to even when we’re trying to do what we believe God wants us to do.”
Brandon brushed my hand away with a rotation of his arm, obviously distraught. He had enough to deal with, and now I had added to it.
I returned my arm to the table but continued to have eye contact. “Son, I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t say anything to Hannah about this. Maybe I shouldn’t have said what I did. I may be jumping to conclusions. Things could work out all right.”
Jayne broke the somber spell. “If we have to leave, at least Hannah will be able to keep Skeeter.”
That obviously gave Brandon no comfort. Shaking his head, he shuffled out of the room, head bent low.
Jayne wrapped her arms around my neck. “Maybe this is a good time to go see your buddy Philip Treadway. He is someone who can be objective about all of this. I know you’ve prayed about it and believe you are doing the right thing, but Philip’s perspective might be helpful.”
So on that Thursday afternoon, I found myself at Treadway’s lumberyard.
“Here for another therapy session?” Philip eyed me with an arched brow as he poured me a cup of coffee.
The downcast look on my face undoubtedly clued him in that things were not good.
“Good name for it,” I responded. “The last time we talked, I thought of resigning. Now I don’t think the choice will be mine. My neck’s on the block, and the guillotine could be coming down at any minute.”
“What’s happened?”
“Clifton Stoner, once again, is what has happened. But if I’m honest, it’s more than that.”
Philip poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter. “Tell me more.”
“Well, Clifton was quiet about our differences while his concentration was on Flora’s death and burial. Now he’s mad as hell, and I seem to be the primary focus.”
He raised his finger. “Something must have happened to cause that.”
“Yeah.” I raised my palms in a sign of frustration. “To him, I made the mistake of calling for forgiveness toward this kid who killed Flora and the others. That’s what Christians are supposed to do. And the kid isn’t even around anymore. In my sermon at the memorial service, I wanted people to retain happy memories of a really heroic woman who probably saved the lives of others. My sermon honored her in every way I know how. But Clifton only heard the part about forgiving, something he can’t do right now.”
“Well, where does that leave him? What happened wasn’t your fault, and the kid’s dead.”
I shook my head. “That’s not enough for Stoner. He’s projecting his furor toward the mother.”
Philip set down his cup. “Is there any justification for that?”
“I don’t think so. I think the woman did the best she could. The boy loved his dad, they were best pals, did everything together, and his death seemed to leave the boy distraught, hating everyone. Unfortunately, the father had taught Tyler about guns and left him with some.”
“How do you know all this?”
I took a sip of coffee, wiped my mouth. “I’ve met with her. Mrs. Cook, the principal at the high school, asked me to go see her in the hospital, and I did. But I haven’t dropped the biggest bombshell on you yet.”
He crossed his arms. “What’s that?”
“Mrs. Wooten asked me to have a burial service for Tyler, and I agreed to do so.”
“Man, you really are a glutton for punishment. You know that this little place of mine is like a crossroads for a lot of guys in this community. They come in here for coffee and conversation, just as you do. I called you and told you about what I have picked up. And I’m telling you, the mood is a violent one. They want to wipe this tragedy out of the minds of the people of Belvedere. That means they want that Wooten woman gone from here, and they want it immediately.”
There was a pause, and then Philip’s eyes widened as he remembered something. “Did you go to the meeting at the library?”
“Yeah, and the picture you have is all too accurate. So what do you think I should do?”
Philip raised his mug. “Just what you’re planning to do.”
I raised my eyebrows. Did he really say that?
He chuckled. “You know how I feel, or don’t feel, about this Christ of yours. But you either believe what you preach or you don’t.”
I took a deep breath. “You’re right. I didn’t come to see you to ask you to change my mind. I wanted confirmation that the situation is as serious as it appears to be. But I also wanted your wisdom in how best to navigate these waters.”
“Does Clifton Stoner know about the service for the boy?”
“No, I’ve had no chance to deal with him on that, and you know how I hate one-on-one confrontation.” I grimaced and shook my head.
Philip looked me square in the eyes. “Well, like it or not, that’s your first step.”
Philip Treadway. My friend. The one guy who was totally honest with me, and I was—as much as I hated it—going to do just what he recommended I do.
I loved this guy as a brother, but I wanted more than anything else for him to be my Christian brother. He was raised in the church, but as the story goes, any faith he had disappeared when his young son was
killed by a drunk driver.
He had never shared the tragedy with me, and I had never felt led to pry into it. But it reminded me of a similar story a friend had told me long ago. This friend played golf with a guy who knew my friend was a Christian. Even so, he seemed to get pleasure out of cursing God every time something went wrong during the game. My friend knew that this guy had also lost a son in a tragic accident and blamed it on God. Finally, he could stand it no longer.
“God ought to zap you dead right here on the golf course for cursing Him the way you are!” my friend told him. “God didn’t kill your son. God gave you your son. He loves you, and He loved your son. But human beings have free will and do bad things. Somebody did a bad thing, and your son’s death was a result of it. If we didn’t have free will, we would all be like robots. Instead, we are made in the image of God, have minds, and can make choices. Some people make bad choices and bad things happen. We can’t control other people’s choices, but we can learn to make the right choices ourselves, choices that are in accord with God’s will. We learn how to do that by giving our lives to Christ, studying the Bible, praying, worshiping God, and serving others.”
My friend told me the man was stunned by this response, but he was also convicted by it and ultimately gave his life to Christ. Deep within him, he had undoubtedly wanted someone to call his bluff and confront him with truth.
Will I ever have that chance with Philip? Well, certainly not in the way my friend had done it with his fellow golfer, because Philip never cursed God. He just, from time to time, made the old Gandhi remark about taking Christianity seriously if he ever found a real Christian. Wasn’t that the same thing I aimed for with my incarnation challenge? For us to act like the Christians we are supposed to be?
I mulled over all of this as I headed for a showdown meeting with Clifton Stoner.
Chapter 25
For once in my life, by the grace of God I had the willpower to step up to what I needed to do, and I wasted no time in doing it. I knew it would be a traumatic confrontation with Clifton Stoner. Events were spiraling out of control, so I knew I had to do it immediately. However, I can’t deny my surprise when Clifton consented to see me that Thursday evening.
His housemaid, Helen, whom I had seen many times before, cordially received me at the door. She pointed me toward the living room, where Stoner sat in his favorite chair, the lion on his throne.
He made no attempt to stand and greet me as I came into the room and dropped into an overstuffed chair across from him. Instead, he laid the gauntlet of his fury on the line. “I hope you’ve come to apologize for what you said at the service this morning and to set Incarnation Church back on sound footing rather than trying to take us on some unrealistic ‘holier than thou’ course.”
I sat up straight. “On the contrary, you’ll probably want to kick me out of the house by the time we’re through.”
“What do you mean by that?” Stoner glared at me.
“You’re just not going to like what I have to say.” I leaned forward to be in direct eye contact with him. “But before I get into any of that, I want you to know that I love you and respect you, even though we often disagree. You’ve been through an awful shock, something no one should have to suffer. You’ve not only lost one of the most Christlike individuals I have ever known, a loving wife and mother, and a mainstay of this community…but you have lost her in a horrendous way. You need time to heal, if that is ever possible from such a loss.”
His jaw twitched. I paused, took a deep breath, and continued. “I wish you wouldn’t reach conclusions while you’re still dealing with your pain.”
He jumped to his feet and paced. “I had already reached my conclusions about the insane way you seem to want to take the church. And if you try to tell me how Flora was a wonderful example of your claim that we Christians should be Christ to the world around us, all I’ve got to say is, if you’re right, that’s what killed her. You just as well as said that in your sermon.”
Visibly shaken, I slunk back into the chair. His statement caught me by complete surprise. It hadn’t occurred to me that Stoner would have thought that through and seen it not as a validation of Flora’s life but as my guilt in her death. Dumbfounded by the accusation and unable to make a response, I sat silently looking at the floor to avoid his reproachful look. The longer I did so, the more I felt that Clifton Stoner was convinced he had spoken the truth.
“You have no answer for that,” Stoner scoffed and sat back down triumphantly.
I prayed, Lord, give me the words; You promised to do that in situations like this. Immediately I perceived the guidance I needed.
I raised my gaze to look straight into his eyes. “Yes, I do have an answer. Whether you’ll accept it or not is another matter.”
“Try me.”
“You undoubtedly knew your wife better than anyone alive. But I question whether you truly understood her spirituality. It is naive to think that what Flora did in giving her life to protect those children was because of any influence I had on her. It was solely because of her relationship with Jesus Christ and the presence and power of the Holy Spirit within her. There is no other answer.”
He waved away my comment as though swatting away a fly. “Baloney! You’re just trying to get yourself off the hook.”
I squared my shoulders and held my ground. “I’m not, but I told you that you might not accept it. As a matter of fact, I think you would have done the same thing Flora did, faced with the same situation.”
With intensity in his glare, Stoner ignored the last part of my remark. “Well, I know you went through the motions of having a nice memorial service for Flora, despite most of your sermon, but I have to be bluntly honest, as you know I always am. I don’t want you as my pastor anymore. It’s time for a change at Incarnation.”
Without letting that bomb blow me away, I gave him a glare equal to his own. “I’m sorry you feel that way. But since you’re being so honest, I must be honest with you. I’m going to have a funeral service for that boy, Tyler Wooten.”
Clifton Stoner exploded, shaking with rage. “You are out of your mind!” he shouted. “Surely you know you can’t have anything like that at Incarnation for that child of the devil and his god-awful mother.”
“The service wouldn’t be at Incarnation, but our people will find out about it, and I know how much it will hurt my favor with some members of our church. But I don’t believe I have much choice. I was asked to do it, I am a clergyman, and I believe an ordained Christian is the one to perform the service. It may not do Tyler Wooten any good, but it may be a way to reach his mother. It’s worth a try, and it is the right thing to do.”
Clifton Stoner pointed a shaking finger at me as though it were a weapon. “Get out of here! I wish I never had to see you again.”
Chapter 26
Back home, I sat in our family room surrounded by my little family facing its first major crisis.
I looked around the room as though seeing it for the first time. This had been home to us for fifteen years, and now it appeared we would be leaving. It wasn’t much of a home by commercial standards, but Jayne had chosen well in filling it with what we needed and what we loved. As I looked around, I noticed mementos, things we had bought on special trips to remind us of those good times. Also the pictures of us as a family, especially the children at various stages of their growth. I even noticed the worn places on the furniture and rugs put there through our enjoyment and use. And the walls I had painted more than once and cabinets I had repaired over the years. It was a comfortable room in a comfortable house, and we would hate to leave it.
Jayne and I had always believed it was best to involve the children in serious issues we faced. Once they had been old enough to sense when we were under tension, it seemed best to get everything out on the table. This time Jayne took the lead.
“We’ve got to stick together, troops. Belvedere is not a big place, and people are going to be talking, saying things we won’
t like hearing. But that’s not the worst part. We just need to get ready for it.”
Hannah cocked her head in a way she did when puzzled with a math problem. “Ready for what, Mama?”
Jayne glanced briefly at me to see if I wanted to answer. “Your dad may be asked to step down as pastor of the church. And that would mean that we would be losing this house and moving somewhere else.”
“Where would we go?” Her lips began to quiver.
I stepped into the discussion at that point. “We don’t know, honey. We’ll just have to see.”
With a bleak look on his face, Brandon remained silent. He already knew what was going on, but Hannah was clearly bewildered by the whole thing.
“What’s happened? What’s caused this?”
Jayne reached for her hand. “Misunderstandings mostly. Your father has an important position in this community, and he has had to do and say some things that people will disagree with. We’ll just have to see how it all works out, but we wanted you to know what is going on. Particularly if you hear people saying unkind things about your father. He is going to hold a funeral service for that boy Tyler, and a lot of people will resent that.”
Hannah swiveled to me, her forehead wrinkled. “Why do you have to do that?”
“Someone has to do it, and I was the one who was asked.”
“But Dad, can’t you get someone else to do it?”
“I don’t believe I can, honey. How do you feel when someone says they’ll do something you want them to do and then they let you down? And how do you think I’d feel going around begging some other pastor to do what I was unwilling to do?”
In the meantime, Brandon, though still not saying a thing, became more restless. His expression darkened as he continued inwardly to deal with matters that seemed so unreal to him. Within the week he had been confronted with violent, unimaginable sudden death among his classmates. His school life had been disrupted as a result, and now he faced being shamed out of town because of what I had done.
In His Place: A Modern-Day Challenge for Readers of In His Steps Page 11
