Chapter 14 - The Development Team
Lydia looked around the boardroom at the development team members who had gathered. It was ten minutes after the meeting was supposed to start and five minutes had passed since she had called the last person on the committee to see if he was on his way.
“We’re still waiting for Melvin from our marketing department,” she said, “but we may as well get started without him. I was going to begin with introductions, but I know that Melvin is familiar with our company’s policies and procedures, so we’ll go over that first, and since Melvin will join us shortly, we can get to know each other after that.”
Lydia passed around the company documents and together as a committee they went through the company slide show. It was the first time Lydia got to control how quickly the slides progressed, and still it was agonizing for her. The Westminster staff members in the group were relatively familiar with the information, but for the benefit of the community representatives, Lydia gave a thorough explanation of what the company did and why they did it.
When she started work on the development team for Feminine-ism, she was genuinely excited, much more excited in fact than she was now. Sure, she was nervous then about living up to the responsibility that had been given to her, but at that time she had no idea of the difficulties that lie ahead. Now, all she could think about was the long impersonal meetings, the mechanical, emotionally removed analysis process and the un-healthy food that they always ordered last minute. There was no looking back now, but she definitely wasn’t looking forward to going through all of that again.
In a few phone conversations with Oscar, he had been encouraging her to run the meetings however she wanted. He said that not only was she the chair, but that her own experiences had taught her what worked and what didn’t. On the other hand, she had gotten the sense from Gerald that she shouldn’t do anything different at all. The policy manual only dictated the outcome of the meetings, and not how they were to be run, so while Lydia had no intention of being openly rebellious, she felt like she had been given some freedom to change things around. She had followed all of Gerald’s counsel thus far. Those concessions had helped her to maintain her position as chair, ensure the viability of the project, and keep up a good relationship with her superiors.
Melvin joined the meeting just as Lydia had finished answering a few clarifying questions. Lydia had always seen Melvin was the kind of guy that had not yet accepted he was in his late forties. His leather shoes didn’t quite match the suits he wore to work, and the sports drinks he brought to the office were meant for people who actually worked out, not just those who wanted to convince others that they did. In his defence, he wasn’t quite bald enough for his hairstyle to count as a comb over.
“You’re just in time for introductions,” she said, “and since everyone is looking at you, you can start. I would like everyone to just say your name, why you’re here, what your hopes are for this project, and, if you feel comfortable, maybe share about a spiritual ‘aha moment’ you’ve experienced.”
“Okay,” he said, still standing from when he came in. “My name is Melvin. I am the most senior staff member on this committee and I just hope to help produce another quality Westminster Printers publication.”
“Do you have a spiritual ‘aha moment’ you want to share with us?” Lydia asked after he had sat down again.
“Religion is a private matter for me, Lydia,” he answered quickly.
“Okay,” she said carefully, “and that’s perfectly fine.”
Beside Melvin was Larry from Finance. He was the one Lydia talked to whenever she had job-related expenses that needed to be reimbursed. He had a narrow face, thin glasses and wispy brown hair. He was friendly enough, but Lydia couldn’t remember him demonstrating anything resembling personality. After saying his name, he explained, “I don’t know much about writing, but I do want to help the company’s bottom line. And I’m more the kind of guy that gradually figures things out than the kind of person who makes sudden discoveries, spiritually or otherwise.”
“I’m Sheila,” said the next woman around the table, “and I work in the Distribution department here. I haven’t been part of a book project like this for a few years, but I am glad to be doing it again.” Sheila was the only person there who was both on Lydia’s original list of names and on the one Gerald gave her. There was nothing noteworthy about Sheila; her greying black hair hung just past her shoulders and she wore mostly bland-coloured pant suits to work, but Lydia still wondered why she hadn’t gotten to know Sheila better. “I guess an ‘aha moment’ for me happened a few years ago. I was never close to my dad and so for various reasons I always bristled at the notion of God as Father. I have a few kids of my own and as I watched my husband interact with them, I saw his protective instincts and the pride he had in those kids no matter what. My husband would be the first to admit that he’s not a perfect father, but I realized a few things about the way that God saw me. I’m no expert, but for me, it’s not about gender anymore, and it’s all about love.”
The person around the table least familiar to Lydia spoke next. “I’m Gus,” said the man with thick grey hair and a moustache. “I guess I’m what’s called a community representative on this team. I am a retired college professor. I taught literature at Lakeshore Community College for 25 years. I am also an elder at St. Alexander’s Cathedral, where Gerald Simmons and his family attend. Perhaps the greatest ‘aha moment’ in my life was when I took my family to Rome and we saw St. Peter’s Basilica. It took my breath away.”
“I’m Oscar, and I guess I’m the other community member on the team,” he said blankly. “I think there are a lot of misconceptions about the church, and I hope that by being on this committee, I can help clarify some of them. I’m jealous of those of you who have these spiritual discoveries that make you feel a little closer to the divine. My ‘aha moments’ seem more like God is trying to reveal to me just how far from him I’ve gone.”
While she appreciated his point, Lydia was almost worried that because of his dull and downcast expression the other people might not think Oscar had a right to be there. Today was the gloomiest she had ever seen him and it looked like he was short on sleep and his mind was somewhere else. She hoped he would stay after the meeting so she could ask him about it.
“And I am Zack Mackenzie. I know Lydia has already sent you my bio, so I won’t add too much more.” If Oscar’s introduction made Lydia look bad, Zack’s more than compensated. He spoke in a way that made it clear he was quite comfortable speaking in public and he had a way that seemed to engage everyone in the room. He continued, “You may be looking at me and wondering to yourself, ‘Is this all we have to work with?’ If you are, I don’t blame you. I have some mornings when I look in the mirror and ask myself the same question. But it truly is an honour to be working with you and I look forward to your input in our project. I hope this time will be a blessing to all of us.”
“Thanks everyone,” said Lydia, turning to the speech page of her notebook.
“Wait,” interrupted Zack. “Don’t we get to hear about your ‘aha moment’?”
In all of her preparation, Lydia hadn’t even considered that she too would be expected to answer this question. “You’re right, I forgot to include myself, but that reminds me of an important point: to be on this team you don’t need to adhere to any one set of religious principles. This book may have content that you disagree with, but we all need to focus instead on the professional task of assembling the best possible book. While I can’t think of any specific examples, I’ve had a number of spiritual discoveries that have affirmed the value of each individual’s experiences and opinion, and that’s how I want this team be run as well. That means we are a committee of equals. My name may be at the top of the list, but that only means it is my job to right the ship if we get off course. Not everyone will be as old or experienced as you or have the same convictions about the subject matter, but I ask that you give everyon
e an opportunity to speak. I also want to emphasize that the completion of a successful book is only possible if you want it to be a success. I don’t want you to begrudge coming to meetings or staying late, so if something comes up, or you’d rather be somewhere else, you are free to go. Does anyone have any questions or comments?”
Melvin’s face barely concealed a smile, either because he was laughing at having been late himself or because he was amused at this policy; Lydia couldn’t tell which. Others merely nodded, as though they thought this was how these meetings were always run.
The meeting progressed exactly as Lydia had hoped. They went through the expectations they were working under and the direction they hoped to take. Not everyone believed that weekly meetings for two months would be enough, but according to the company model, that was all they would need.
The committee also looked over Zack’s original submitted piece. He explained that he’d been brief to keep within the word limit. Various people asked him to clarify specific points or to elaborate on certain stories, and those explanations, at least the helpful ones, became notes that Zack would edit into the piece later. Gus suggested a number of grammatical and structural alterations, and Zack agreed to implement them, whether or not he understood Gus’ lengthy justifications.
Lydia was quite pleased with how smoothly the discussion was going, but she was disappointed that Oscar had spoken so little.
“Do you have anything to add, Oscar?” she asked at an appropriate break in the conversation.
He looked up, almost as though he quickly remembered where he was and what he was doing.
“I do have one thing,” he said. “Zack, I think your stories are interesting and your points are valid, but I think you are writing consistently from the wrong perspective.”
“Perspective?” asked Gus. “Are you saying you don’t want him to write in first person?”
“I don’t think he should write in first person singular,” Oscar replied, “I think he should write in first person plural.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Gus objected.
Oscar continued undeterred. “In a sermon or in a book like this, you could write in the third person, telling stories about things that happened to other people at other times. You could write in second person, giving heavy-handed directives on what your readers need to do to improve their lives. But when you do either of those, you can come across completely removed from the plight of your audience or you can present yourself as a know-it-all, looking down on everyone else. Using first person singular can still cause those problems. Writing in first person plural means that you are co-experiencing the events with your readers.”
As he spoke, there were some nods and confused looks, sometimes coming from the same people.
“So how does this passive writing style fit with this particular text?” Gus asked.
“I’m not just saying he should replace every ‘I’ with ‘we’,” Oscar insisted. “Zack, you have a lot of stories where the other people misunderstand you. The way that you write, it usually seems that they were the abnormal ones, but misunderstandings are almost always mutual. You and I both know that the nature of cultural disagreements is that neither person is the right one, or the normal one, or even the logical one.”
“But doesn’t that take away from the point?” asked Zack.
“Precisely,” added Gus, “and it also takes away your right to deliver the point. An author is allowed and expected to speak from a position of strength and authority.”
“But what if the reader identifies with the weakness of the writer?” Oscar asked. “If you tell those stories, making clear that you were simultaneously misunderstanding and being misunderstood, it reminds other Christians that their value system is not universally held and that their preconceptions are just that, their own preconceptions.”
Gus still wasn’t convinced by Oscar’s rationale. “If anything, he should write with more confidence, if only to establish himself in the mind of our readers as an expert and an authority on the subject.”
“Can you think of any specific examples?” Lydia asked Oscar. She realized that she was ignoring Gus’ points, going against her own stated ideals of how the committee should be run. “Either of you?” she asked Gus as though she were finishing a question that had been meant for both of them all along.
“I was thinking more about a general writing style,” said Gus, “something a first-time writer needs to do in order to be taken seriously.”
Oscar looked up with his finger on the page. “You talk here about how your old schoolmates would play harder against you than against other kids. If they defeated you, they would celebrate much more than over any other students. I’m guessing that you are inviting your reader to see a spiritual connection here too, that if you present yourself as a Christian or even a person with high ethical standards, people will celebrate your moral failures. I think you could flesh out that connection a little more, but in both cases you could improve your point by considering the other’s point of view. Those African kids grew up in a culture where the scars of colonization mean that the people see themselves as victims of and/or generally inferior to white Westerners. You, as a white kid, would have no way of understanding that and you certainly weren’t guilty of it, but that sense of victimization is at the core of their worldview. Also, when we perceive that someone else is challenging us to live by a higher moral code, it is natural for all of us to celebrate that person’s moral failings, because it means that we don’t need to take them or their belief system seriously. In both cases, if you respond angrily, you will only validate their assumptions, and undermine your own values.”
Zack nodded his head. He jotted down a few notes. Lydia also scribbled a few things on her notepad. Everyone else was looking to the two of them before adding any other responses, but Lydia noticed only how much time had passed.
“Well it’s now after six o’clock,” she said, which came as a surprise to some, “maybe now is a good time to close things up for today. Zack, you’ll make some edits to this chapter based on what’s been said?”
“Right, and I’ll email out my next chapter draft tomorrow night.”
“Good,” Lydia continued, “and the rest of us will read the chapter and prepare some suggestions before we get together again. Since our next meeting will carry into supper, I’m suggesting we take turns either bringing something or choosing the restaurant, so I will take care of that next week. Any other questions?”
“No,” said Melvin quickly with his coat already on, “let’s get out of here.”
There was some small talk, but the boardroom was soon empty with the exceptions of Lydia, Zack and Oscar.
“I have an idea I’d like to run past you,” Zack said to Lydia after the last other member left.
“Sure,” she said, but before he could ask, she had already interrupted him. “Wait, what are you doing for supper? I’d love to hear what you guys thought of how the meeting went.”
“Yeah, my evening’s free,” said Zack with a shrug.
“What about you?” she asked Oscar.
“Zack’s my ride, so …” he said, having slipped back into his emotionally removed disposition.
“Are you alright?” Lydia asked. “You seem a little out of it today.”
“His girlfriend is mad at him,” Zack said with half a grin.
“Do you want to talk about it, Oscar?”
“Maybe over supper,” was his melancholy response.
Once they were seated at the restaurant, Oscar could sense in the initial silence that Lydia wanted to ask him what was wrong, so he explained. “When I told her that I had recommended Zack to write this book, she was initially happy for him, but then she realized that it meant I hadn’t recommended her father, at which point she became quite upset.”
“That’s all?” asked Lydia. “Isn’t that a little vain?”
“Well, that in itself may not have been enough to cause all this, but then I proce
eded to explain at length why I hadn’t recommended her father.”
“At length?” asked Zack.
“I may have said a few things more than I needed to,” Oscar answered, a smile almost forming on his face.
“So, how bad is it?” Lydia asked.
“Let’s just say we haven’t cancelled any of our reservations, but we won’t be ordering the invitations until this all gets worked out.
“Wow,” said Lydia, recoiling at the scope of the problem and at the seemingly trivial nature of its origins.
“So, tell her about your idea,” Oscar said to Zack, intentionally breaking the uncomfortable silence.
“Right,” Lydia said, “Let’s hear it.”
“I was going to do this on my own, but then I thought I should check with you to see what your company’s policy is, and what your personal opinion is,” he explained casually. “I’d like to get Bibles for everyone on the committee.”
“I think that given the nature of the project, that might be appropriate,” Lydia said. “I just wouldn’t want anyone to think that it was mandatory. Did you have a specific use in mind?”
“I would like to include a number of scripture references and mention other passages,” Zack explained, “and I think it might make the discussions a little more productive if everyone had some familiarity with the parts I mention.”
“I don’t know about the others,” said Lydia, “but I’ve never read the Bible, so even if I was given a copy to look over, I don’t think I’d be in any position to comment on what’s written in it, and what it’s supposed to mean.”
“That’s fine,” Zack agreed. “I just want everyone to know what’s being discussed. Obviously, for this project we wouldn’t be relying on the insights of first time readers for content.”
“That makes sense,” Lydia said, opening up her day planner, “I can see if the company would cover the cost, but I won’t make any promises.”
The waitress caught them off guard when she came to take their order. Both men agreed that they would eat whatever Lydia wanted; Zack because he knew Lydia was paying and Oscar because he was quite used to the woman he was eating with insisting on ordering food her own way. Lydia was glad to have been given the authority to choose and ordered a pizza she really wanted.
“You know, Lydia,” Oscar said after the waitress had left, “you’re really lucky.”
“Because I get to use a company credit card?” she asked, rather amused. “I still have to justify my expenses. A meal here and there is one thing, but Bibles for everyone, free taxi rides and fancy new business cards are a tougher sell.” Until then, she hadn’t thought of getting new business cards, but now she wondered if she could order some that said Development Team Chair as her title.
“No, I mean about the Bible.” This time it was Zack that looked at Oscar with surprise. “The Bible is fresh for you. I’ve been reading the Bible for years. People have been reading it to me for even longer. If you tell me how a verse starts or if you tell me the question at the beginning of a story, fairly often I can tell you the rest. I could probably give you hundreds of examples. And Zack is much more pious than I am,” he added sarcastically, “but people like us can often tune out because we know what happens next. We think we know what it means and so we miss out on any new revelations.”
“I know what you mean,” Lydia said, nodding her head. “My best friend in University was a huge Jane Austen fan. She read and re-read everything Austen wrote. If you ask me, I think if you’re reading a book for any more than the fifth time, you’re just trying to raise your status in the fan club.”
“But this is something entirely different,” Zack said, trying his best to direct his frustration toward Oscar, not Lydia. “Nobody builds their life’s Philosophy on the teachings of William Shakespeare. We believe that the Holy Spirit is ready and able to inspire our reading of the Bible, no matter which part we are reading and no matter how often we’ve read it.”
“The Spirit is willing, Zack, but the flesh is weak.”
“That’s not what that means, Oscar.”
“I’m not trying to limit the Holy Spirit. I’m just saying that we are capable of ignoring the inspiration of scripture and I’m suggesting that maybe we can get worse after a hundred readings.”
Zack and Oscar continued their disagreement a little longer until they realized that Lydia was no longer interested. They also recognized that neither of them was having any success at convincing the other. They apologized for their semantic argument and, for Lydia’s sake, shifted to a debriefing of the earlier meeting. Generally they agreed that it had gone well. Lydia especially thought so, comparing it to the development team meetings for the last book.
After the pizza had been eaten and the bill arrived, they got up to leave.
“What are you doing tonight, Oscar?” Lydia asked.
“I have a phone appointment with Evangeline,” he said begrudgingly. “This has been our routine every night for almost a week. If things don’t change soon, I’m going to crash from lack of sleep.”
“I want to get home and work on some writing right away,” Zack said.
“Yeah, it will be work for me too,” Lydia said. “I need summarize the meeting for my records.”
They headed to their respective vehicles. When Lydia opened her car door, she looked up and said, “So, Oscar, I guess all this trouble over your future father-in-law will damage your impression of pastors even more, won’t it?”
Oscar grinned, but before he could say anything Zack interjected, “Well, he’s training to be one, so he’ll get over it soon enough.”
Lydia flashed a confused look Oscar’s way and he just shook his head, hoping to convey that he would explain later.
They all drove off, both men in Zack’s car and Lydia alone in hers. She couldn’t shake her sense of confusion and disappointment. Of course it made sense with him studying at the same school as Zack he would be following the same career path. She wondered how he could hold the opinions he did and still want to become the kind of man he apparently despised. Either he was lying to her, trying to get her attention with an edgy point of view, or he was lying to himself. Either way, she wanted to find out where he really stood.
From: Oscar Brandt
To: Lydia Phillips
Subject: about my line of work
I’m guessing that based on the look you gave me in the parking lot, Lydia, I need to explain something.
Like Zack, I am pursing a Masters of Divinity, and most people, including Zack, naturally expect MDiv grads to accept a pastoral position upon graduation. Some go into writing, which I doubt would work for me and some continue their studies, getting further degrees, which I can’t afford and I’m not sure my marks would be good enough for that anyway. So, while it’s not a foregone conclusion that I’ll become a pastor, I likely have few other options, but I also think I’m being led in that direction.
I do believe what I told you the other day. I don’t want to be the kind of pastor that you and I and many others complain about, and I would refuse to work for a congregation that would expect me to be like that. I do believe that there are a lot of Christians out there that want honest and humble leadership and that my understanding of God, the Bible and spirituality is such that I can help people who want to understand the same things.
I know I often ridicule the church and its officials, but that doesn’t mean that I love Jesus any less or that I’m somehow not a part of the church anymore. I’ve promised to follow his teachings and if I can find work helping other people who are committed to the same thing, I’ll take it.
Don’t worry too much about my engagement. I’m starting to think that this little crisis was actually quite necessary. We probably needed to work through a lot of these issues before the wedding anyway. She’s starting to see that too, plus, it’s important to her that we patch this all up before Valentine’s Day. We’re going out Friday and I expect everything will be fine after that.
&nb
sp; Either way, I promise to be more focussed at our next meeting.
- OB
From: Lydia Phillips
To: Development Team
Subject: Preparation for the second meeting
Hi everyone,
I'd first like to say that I was really happy with how our first meeting went. If we can continue to build on that level of cooperation and willingness, I have no doubt that we'll have a successful book when we're finished. I also have a few items of business:
1) Zack is offering to provide a Bible to everyone on the team that is interested. He will be quoting and referring to a number of passages, so he'd like it if we could follow along. This is not mandatory by any means but if you are interested, say so in your reply so he'll know how many to bring for the next meeting.
2) Zack has sent me the draft for his next chapter as well. I've attached it to this email and I want everyone to have read it for the next meeting.
3) Also, if possible, could you “reply all” with your comments and suggested revisions on the piece if you have any?
Thanks, and see you on Wednesday,
Lydia
--- Attachment: ShowingProof.docx ---
Draft: Showing Proof
“Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.” – 1 Peter 3:15b (NIV)
My dad grew up on the mission field. He was a student in village huts and in western-style boarding schools and sometimes he simply learned in the makeshift classrooms my grandmother created for him. Because they moved around so much, my father never felt that he was able to develop any close friends during those childhood years. Then, when he turned nineteen, he went to North America for four years of higher education, and his years of loneliness ended. He enrolled in a Foreign Missions program at a reputable Christian university and in his first year there, he met my mother.
I’ve heard from multiple sources that my parents were inseparable in those days. They were rarely seen apart from each other, as though their identity had been fused into one. Shortly after he graduated, my dad had been given his own overseas missionary assignment, and more surprisingly, he was able to convince my mother to marry him and to go overseas with him. After the wedding, they packed up a few meagre belongings for their big move, set aside a few important items for safekeeping with relatives, and sold the rest.
In their new country, they expected to have difficulty learning the language and they expected to have some trouble adjusting to the local culture, but because of my father's training and experience he thought he was ready for almost everything else.
Around the time they arrived, their new country had set up a national health insurance program. Even though their supporters in North America covered their medical costs, they thought it would be wise to register since they would be able to save their supporters some money. Naturally, they applied as a married couple so that my mother could receive the spousal rate. Among the identification required with a submitted application form was their marriage certificate. There was a small problem, though. That certificate was packed safely away in my maternal grandparents’ basement back in North America.
My parents tried to negotiate; they showed their wedding rings, which had a matching pattern on them and they showed their passports with matching last names, but they soon realized that they had no tangible way of proving they were married. Eventually they agreed to pay for one month at the regular rate with the assurance that they would be given another chance to prove they were married.
Later that week, an officer from the ministry of health arrived unannounced at their door. He demanded that he be allowed in to look around the house and my mother consented. He wasn't all that interested in the wedding photo displayed in the main room or in the photo albums my mom offered to show him, but apparently he saw enough to be convinced that my parents were in fact married.
Being in a relationship with Christ doesn’t provide the proof that we often expect to convince other people. Our baptism certificates, church membership and even Biblical knowledge won’t prove to the world that we are Christians or that our faith is doing anyone any good. Our actions will sometimes contradict our stated beliefs. We claim that our relationship with Jesus guides our lives, but other people might see us being guided in a different direction than we claim. If our response is to make a list of rules for ourselves so that nobody ever catches us in our hypocrisy, we are missing the point. All we can do is to make sure we are living out that relationship all the time.
My parents weren’t following a set of rules in case the government official came; they were simply living out their marriage relationship. In the chaos and apparent disorder of their home, this official saw proof that they were married, and not just putting on a front for financial benefit. People are watching us and we will need to prove our relationship the same way that my parents did, without knowing it.
From: Larry Robertson
To: Development Team
Subject: Re: Preparation for the second meeting
#1 – I don’t have a Bible. I hope this isn’t coming out of the company budget, but either way, I’m not interested. I’ll just install the app on my smartphone.
A Pie Plate Pilgrimage Page 17
