Sold Out

by Melody Carlson

  She looked at me—steady and even, like she was really seeing me. “No,” she finally said. “I don’t think you’re confusing me. Actually, you’ve always been pretty straight with me. And part of me agrees with you.,”

  “Is it possible that your pastor is confusing you?”

  She shrugged.

  “Well, I’ve been thinking about him—and praying. And I’m thinking since he’s read my lyrics and thinks he knows what I believe, or what my doctrine is, well, maybe it’s time I paid him a visit.”

  Now she kind of smiled in a funny little way, as if this were some kind of a joke. “Are you serious, Chloe? You’d actually go see Pastor Rawlins, like to his office?”

  “Why not? I talk to Pastor Tony all the time.”

  She shrugged again. “Sure, go ahead, if you think it’ll do any good.”

  So instead of going to lunch, I went straight to the phone booth and called Laura’s church. First I got the secretary and I politely asked if I could speak to the pastor.

  “Is he expecting your call?” she asked.

  “I doubt it. We’ve never actually met.”

  “Uh-hmm.” I could hear what sounded like papers shuffling.

  “Look, my friend Laura Mitchell attends his church. And we have this band, and Pastor Rawlins seems to feel there’s something wrong with that. I just wanted to talk to him in person, if I could.”

  She cleared her throat. “Well, let me see if he has any available times.”

  “It’s pretty urgent,” I said quickly. “We have an important concert in a week, and we were donating the proceeds to charity, and I really need to—”

  “Can you come by this afternoon, dear?” “Really? Today?”

  So that’s how I found myself sitting in an elegant church waiting room at four o’clock this afternoon. The padded chairs were covered in dark rose-colored velvet, and the silk flower arrangements looked quite proper with every bud in perfect place. But to be honest, it reminded me a little of a funeral parlor—not that I’ve been to so many—but I do remember when my great-uncle Hank died, and we went to his funeral down in Shadley a few years ago. For whatever reason it felt a little like that. Only I should’ve guessed that today’s funeral was going to be my own.

  After I’d spent about twenty minutes waiting and getting seriously tired of the elevator-style religious music playing quietly in the background, the secretary told me I could go in. Now I’d seen Pastor Rawlins before, from a distance anyway, but I remembered him as a large, slightly burly white guy with a loud voice and fairly overbearing demeanor. But the plump man shaking my hand was only a few inches taller than me, slightly balding, and he greeted me in a fairly gentle voice.

  I wondered if I’d mistakenly walked into the wrong office, although I distinctly remembered seeing a brass nameplate with the correct name on the door. Perhaps the man standing before me was actually the janitor.

  “You must be Chloe,” he said with a soft Southern accent.

  “Pastor Rawlins?”

  I’m sure he saw the question in my face. He laughed. “Yes, people always think I’m bigger than I really am when I’m up there in that pulpit with my big black robes on.” He pointed to a chair. “Have a seat, young lady.”

  I sat down and immediately noticed that my palms were sweating. Why was that? It’s not as if I were guilty. Anyway, I figured I might as well jump right in and get this nasty business over with. “Laura told me that you read my song lyrics and that you’re concerned that they don’t—uh, glorify God.”

  I waited for him to say something, but when he simply nodded and said nothing I decided to just continue. “Well, I happen to think that there are all kinds of ways to glorify God. I think that my songs are about life and living and people and how ultimately we all need God in our lives. But I don’t want to preach at people with my music, I just want to tell a story, to show them where I’ve been, where I am, and where I think I’m going.” Still, he didn’t say anything, and I was starting to feel flustered, like maybe this was pointless, but I kept on talking anyway.

  “And now Laura is all confused and she thinks you want her to quit our band and we have a concert in a week and—” Finally I just stopped. Was this guy even listening?

  He leaned forward in his chair, rubbing his palms together in a thoughtful way. “I’ll admit we’re a somewhat conservative church. Why, some people probably even call us fundamentalist, but we do believe the Bible to be the true and infallible Word of God, and we belong to a denomination that takes its faith quite seriously.”

  “I take my faith seriously too.”

  He smiled, but something about his smile felt insincere, although I couldn’t be sure. “Now I understand you go to that new church downtown. Isn’t it called a nondenominational church?”

  I nodded. “Pastor Tony wants everyone to feel welcome and comfortable there, no matter what their different church backgrounds might be.” I knew this for a fact since I’d recently asked him to explain what exactly that “nondenominational” part meant.

  Pastor Rawlins’s heavy eyebrows drew together to create a deep crease in the center of his forehead, and his voice grew louder. “The role of the church is not to make everyone feel comfortable. The role of the church is to preach God’s Word, and God’s Word is a two-edged sword that can cut the spirit from the soul. And believe me, child, that can get mighty uncomfortable.”

  I blinked and wondered how to respond to that. It’s not that I disagreed with everything he was saying. I do believe the church should preach God’s Word. And I don’t think people should be comfortable all the time. I know as well as anyone how it feels when God convicts you. But when Pastor Rawlins made his sword comment, I got the feeling that he’d like to slice me into tiny little pieces.

  “Furthermore, God’s Word is able to discern your very thoughts and the evil intents of your heart.”

  Well okay, I’m thinking, “Hey, get me outta here!” But at the same time I started to pray, silently begging God to help me make sense of what he was saying, what he really meant. “Look, I don’t know much about that two-edged sword stuff, but I do believe that God knows everything about my thoughts and my heart and that’s cool with me, but I just don’t understand how you could know all these things when you hadn’t even met me yet.”

  “God has gifted me with discernment, young lady, and I discern that you are luring Laura away from the truth with your music as well as your deceitfulness.”

  “Deceitfulness?” I stood up now. “What do you mean?”

  “Your doctrine is deceitful, false, and full of lies. You and your church are wolves in sheep’s clothing. You pretend to be godly yet you seek to devour my little lambs. I know about the festival your church put on last year, inviting all the other denominations to join in-including Jewish and Catholic.”

  I was speechless. I thought that Jesus’ love was for everyone.

  “Perhaps you noticed that our church did not participate.”

  Actually, I hadn’t noticed since I wasn’t particularly into churches at the time. In fact, I remember thinking back then, how it was odd that Caitlin’s church wanted to include me, and yet that gesture alone began to break something in me.

  “And the reason we didn’t participate is because I discerned from the start that this was only a guise—a way to conceal your church’s divisive plan to steal unsuspecting members from my congregation—”

  “That’s not-”

  “Do not interrupt me.” He stood now and suddenly seemed much bigger and taller than before. Had I been hallucinating? His voice boomed as he spoke now. “You must choose you this day whom you will serve, child, but as for me and my house, we WILL serve the Lord!”

  “I serve the Lord too,” I said weakly.

  “You worship false gods, child.”

  “But I—”

  “Come to my church, and you will hear God’s Word preached as it was meant to be preached. Come and you will hear the truth, and that truth will set yo
u free—free indeed.”

  Indeed. I just shook my head and asked myself if this guy was for real. Poor Laura. I knew I needed to say something—to respond—and I asked for God to help me. “My pastor does preach God’s Word. And if you don’t believe me, you should go talk to him, or better yet, come to our church and sit in on one of his sermons.”

  He laughed, a big booming laugh. “He’s trained you well, child. Trying to recruit me—”

  “I’m not trying to recruit any—”

  “I see you’re not ready to hear the truth. Come back to me when you’re ready to be delivered from that false doctrine. All sinners are welcome at my church. But first they must confess their sins and repent of their sins. I see no repentance in you, young lady, and I must forbid Laura Mitchell from having any form of fellowship with you or your kind.”

  I knew there was nothing more to say, and feeling close to the brink of tears, I turned and walked out of his office. I noticed the secretary peering at me as I scurried out, and it almost seemed that she looked at me with pity. Or maybe it was my imagination.

  Thankfully, the tears didn’t come until I hit the street. Tears not so much for the end of our band, although that was certainly bad enough, but I felt personally assaulted and very confused. I still do. I haven’t told anyone about this baffling conversation yet. I guess I’m afraid no one would believe me.

  WHAT TO DO?

  o God, what do i do?

  confused, bewildered, hurt, betrayed

  sliced and diced by the power of words

  were those really Your words, God?

  was that really Your truth?

  no, i refuse to believe it

  something is wrong

  it is not of You

  You have always shown me

  Your love, grace, joy

  peace, gentleness, compassion

  forgiveness

  i know who You are, God

  that little man can’t fool me

  please, God

  please, show him who You really are

  and show me what to do next

  amen

  Six

  Saturday, April 26

  I called Pastor Tony this morning. I actually thought I was feeling better, but as soon as I started telling him about Pastor Rawlins, I began to cry.

  “You want to come in and talk about this?” he asked in the gentlest voice imaginable.

  “Do you have time?” I sort of blubbered.

  “I’ll make time.”

  So I called Allie and explained that I might be late for practice, then zipped over to the church and poured out the whole confusing story.

  “I’d heard that Pastor Rawlins doesn’t like us, but I thought it was probably just a rumor. A lot of that stuff goes on within the church community.”

  “Really?” I blew my nose on a Kleenex.

  “I’m sorry to say it does. But hey, we’re all human, and God is working on all of us.”

  “But the things he said about our church—”

  “Well, that was wrong. But I think it might have to do with some of his congregation leaving his church to come here.”

  “Really? People have left his church?”

  Pastor Tony nodded sadly. “I encouraged them to work things out and go back and talk to him. I know that some of them actually tried. And I refuse to turn anyone away. Still, I don’t really enjoy being the church that people come to when they’re unhappy in. their home church.”

  “Why not?”

  “A number of reasons. For one thing, I think people need to work to heal those old relationships, and maybe God can use them in their old congregation to help others to heal too, or to help the pastor to see that he’s made some mistakes. Pastors make mistakes, you know. Just ask my wife.” He grinned. “Also, I worry when people leave one church in anger then join another. I wonder if they might do the same thing again. I don’t really want people stirring up trouble in our church either.”

  I nodded. “That makes sense. I do feel better now, but I don’t know what to do about our band. I know Laura won’t be allowed to play with us for the concert next week. Should I just cancel?”

  He thought for a moment and then suddenly brightened. “I know this will sound crazy, but did you know that Willy Johnson plays a pretty mean bass?”

  “I usually think of him as a drummer, since he drums for church and everything. But I can see he’s pretty musical, and I suspected he plays other instruments since he’s always giving us good tips.”

  “I know it might look a little strange, two teenage girls and an old dude, but what about asking Willy to step in for Laura, just until you get this thing worked out? I’ll bet he already knows some of your songs.”

  “Yeah, he’s helped to arrange a lot of them.”

  “And it’s for a good cause. Chloe, I know how badly you wanted to help those Christian girls’ schools in Eastern Europe.”

  “I really do.”

  And so it was Willy, Allie, and me at practice today. Okay, it felt pretty weird to start with, and I doubt we’ll ever do anything more than the benefit concert, but I have to admit that Pastor Tony was right on. Willy does play a pretty mean bass.

  Still, I feel unsettled about this whole thing with Laura. I mean, I didn’t expect her to show up for practice, but I thought at least she would call. So I phoned her this evening and sort of glossed over my conversation with Pastor Rawlins yesterday. I guess I didn’t want to make him sound too terribly bad since he is her pastor. Not that I lied, I just didn’t tell her everything. But now I wonder why—why should I do anything to protect him?

  “The main thing is he said he won’t allow you to play with us,” I finally finished, followed by a big sigh.

  “Yeah, I’m not too surprised.” Her voice sounded tired and sad.

  “I’m sorry, Laura. I wish it had gone differently. But the good news is we still get to do the benefit concert.”

  “Without me?” Her voice sounded more like her again. “You and Allie are going on without me?”

  “It’s not like we want to, Laura. More than anything, we wish you could play.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “Actually, Willy is going to take your place.”

  “Willy?” she shrieked.

  “Yeah, he’s really good, Laura. He practiced with us today, and he already knows some of the songs. I’ll admit he doesn’t have what you have, and it’ll look kind of funny, but it’s for a good cause, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know.” But I could tell she was down in the dumps again. So we hung up, and I felt bad for her, and for me, and for Redemption. I never really thought it would end like this.

  GRIEVING

  it feels like something died today

  something I’d believed in

  hoped for dreamed of

  prayed for

  and now it’s gone

  sad and broken

  abandoned by the roadside

  dead and ready to be buried

  redemption

  oh, how i will miss you

  cm

  Sunday, May 4

  I haven’t written in my diary for a while. I suppose I’ve been a little down, as well as busy practicing for the concert. We had to practice every single day just to get Willy up to speed. And yet the practicing didn’t feel as fun as it used to feel. Allie felt that way too. We tried not to let on because we didn’t want to make Willy feel bad, and he was being such a good sport too.

  Anyway, we performed last night. Although we did okay and the crowd seemed to like us, it just wasn’t the same. It was hard to get excited, and I kept feeling like a phony when I smiled because I felt like doing anything but smiling.

  The good news is that we made a nice bit of money for our charity. Tony showed a few minutes of Melinda Bishop’s video on the big screen. It was a street scene showing these homeless Eastern European teen girls barely making it and selling themselves as prostitutes just to buy-food. Then it flashed
over to the transformation after they started getting help from Melinda’s Christian schooling project. The crowd really seemed to respond to these girls’ needs, meaning they reached deep into their pockets. Sometimes we forget how easy we have it here in America.

  But the hardest part of the evening was to spy Laura, standing all by herself over on the sidelines, just watching us perform our first couple of songs. And then she left. I didn’t know if I’d be able to keep it together after that. But thanks to God somehow I did. And I must admit that Willy did his best, but something was missing. And that something was Laura Mitchell.

  I don’t know what we’ll do now. I suppose we could look for another girl who plays bass. But what do we do? Put out a sign? Have auditions? It just seems so strange after everything seemed to fall together so easily in the beginning. Oh, I know we’ve had our little disputes over stupid things like songs and clothes and CD covers, but mostly we really got along well. And I think we had such a cool and unique sound. Where will we ever find that again? Still, I keep reminding myself that God can do anything. And I try not to lose hope. But tonight I’m just tired.

  Oh, I forgot to mention one amazing thing that happened last night at the concert. Willy had asked us if we wanted to give some sort of invitation after the concert, you know, give people the chance to ask Jesus into their hearts.

  “I don’t know if I can do that,” I told him. “I mean, it sounds important and everything, but I’m just not sure—”

  “I’ll do it,” offered Allie.

  I kind of blinked and looked at her funny. “Are you serious?”

  She nodded. “I think God wants me to do this.”

  “Well, then do it.”

  So right after our last song, “God’s Way Not My Way,” I immediately start praying for her, and I’m thinking I sure wouldn’t want to be in her shoes right now, but at the same time, I’m glad she’s willing. And then Allie just steps right up to the front mike and starts talking about how she came to know God. I mean, she goes into the whole Wicca thing and how messed up she was and everything. And I actually see kids down there who are crying. Kids I go to school with. So then I’m praying even harder.