Blessed Trinity

by Vanessa Davis Griggs

  “That’s how we planned it. I would call twice, back-to-back, as your signal to begin. At some point, you would bring up the radio deal. I’d call back repeatedly until you answered.” Reverend Walker clapped his hands once with sheer delight. “And voila! ”

  “So what did he say? Come on, Poppa Knight,” Reverend Beam said, “hurry up and tell us everything that happened. You know we’ve been sitting here waiting patiently. We were almost ‘having a heart attack.’” Reverend Beam laughed as did the others.

  “I’m certain two things are on his mind—the offer of the building for nothing for as long as he wants, and my knowledge of something I’m sure he believed no one knew about. Also, that it was a $10 million deal, and that the deal had fallen through, jeopardizing, or at least restricting, his cash flow.” Reverend Knight looked at Reverend Grant. “Are you sure you didn’t have anything to do with this fiasco?”

  “Not a thing,” Reverend Grant said, holding his hands up as if to show he wasn’t hiding anything. “You know that other group of businessmen I hang out with from time to time who are into all sorts of dealings? Well, they were the ones who told me about it. They thought it was too bad for the good reverend, but that’s what happens when you don’t do your own deals while playing with the big boys. You don’t rely on others to handle important business. Pastor Landris never should have trusted his brother with something like that if it was out of his league. Word in the circle is, Pastor Landris’s brother is bad business.”

  “So what exactly did happen with the radio station?” asked Reverend Theodore, the preacher with the thick, bushy eyebrows and mustache.

  “Pastor Landris was about to buy that station over on the FM channel. The one that plays a variety of R&B and stuff,” Reverend Grant said.

  “You know…that stuff we pretend we don’t listen to anymore,” Reverend Beam added. They all laughed.

  “There was something about him putting up $10 million dollars—cash—for it. But Sammie, that’s the guy who was handling the deal for Pastor Landris’s brother, does more than a few shady things alongside his legitimate dealings. All that caught up with the dude, and now everything in Sammie’s possession has been frozen, including Pastor Landris’s money. He can’t get his ten mill back, which, from what I hear, he wasn’t going to get back, anyway. It was this or nothing. Sammie has a reputation for playing with paper money and not the real tender after he pockets your cash,” Reverend Grant said.

  “You mean he matches up things people want and swaps those things like it’s cash? Sort of like pyramid schemes people pay to get into?” Reverend Theodore asked.

  “Exactly. And you know the scheme is fine if you get in at the right time. But if you’re the last person coming in, you’re usually the one left holding the bag.”

  “An empty bag,” Reverend Beam said.

  “And it looks like that’s what happened here. That shady dude had access to the radio station sell. He didn’t have Pastor Landris’s money anymore, but if he could unload the radio station brought to him where they were asking for only $4 million when it was valued at $10 million, it would be like pulling $6 million out of nowhere. Paper money,” Reverend Grant said. “The shady dude didn’t count on having his operation shut down suddenly like it was. So in truth, he no longer had the cash—even if he wanted to—to refund to Pastor Landris or the cash to pay the radio station folks to complete the deal. The radio folks were desperate by the time they found out what was up. They ended up contacting one of my business friends about either buying the station or finding them a quick and reliable buyer.”

  “So who ended up buying the station?” Reverend Knight asked.

  “A conglomerate that pretty much buys radio stations in trouble at a premium. So things worked out for all concerned,” Reverend Grant said.

  “All concerned except good old Pastor Landris,” Reverend Walker said with a grin. “So Pastor Landris’s money is tied up, and it appears he must not have much left to work with. Because if he did, he would buy some land and build a really nice sanctuary instead of trying to buy that run-down building of ours.”

  “Seems he has enough to pay $300,000 to fix it up,” Reverend Knight said. “I did tell him I knew a guy who could do it for $200,000.”

  “Why would you tell him that?” Reverend Walker asked.

  “Because I do know someone.”

  “Then you should have told him you know someone who could do it for $275,000, and we could have added the difference to our nonprofit fund,” Reverend Theodore said.

  “Let’s get back to the building for now. Do you think he’s going to take you up on your offer to let him use the building for nothing?” Reverend Walker asked.

  Reverend Knight shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s sharp, that I do know. And he knows something is up. I told him to pray about it. I emphasized that there were no strings attached,” Reverend Knight said. He didn’t mention anything about his other offer to Pastor Landris to hook up with him. If Pastor Landris had already agreed to do that, this conversation wouldn’t even be taking place right now.

  “So we’re really going to just give him the building?” Reverend Beam asked. “’Cause if we’re just giving it away, I could use one. Y’all know we’re leasing a storefront, and our congregation has been praying mightily for God to bless us with our own place. This would truly be an answered prayer.”

  “Do you have $200,000 to fix it up?” Reverend Walker asked, knowing the answer.

  “No, but the bank might loan it to us now.”

  “Please. You can’t get a loan for $100,000 to build new. You just need to stay where you are and see if you can’t get that tired congregation of yours to add more than the six families that have attended since the church’s inception some ten years ago,” Reverend Walker said. “Exactly how many people do attend your services on Sundays?”

  “About seventy-five…more or less. And two new families joined recently.”

  “More? Who are you fooling?” Reverend Walker said. “Most times it’s less. I’ve never been there when it was more than fifty people. Maybe on a program day, you pull in seventy-five.” Reverend Walker shook his head. “When you celebrate your pastor’s anniversary and invite all of us here who have a good following, that’s the only time you ever see more than seventy-five folks.”

  “Let’s try to stay focused,” Reverend Theodore said. “The fact is, we need to put a stop to these mega churches. There’s that fellow talking about building a city of deliverance called ‘sought out’ or something like that. Then there’s another guy with plans to build a city on the other side of town, only with a shopping center. All of them are getting on television trying to act like they’re big shots. I’ll have you know, I knew every single one of them back when. Back when they were broke.”

  “All they’re trying to do is get more people to come to their churches,” Reverend Beam said. “People want to feel like they’re somebody, and these churches allow them to become a member of ‘the club.’ With more bodies in their pews, they can build bigger buildings while the rest of us are left struggling for people and money to survive.” He looked at Reverend Knight and Reverend Walker, who both had a substantial number of members. “I’m not talking about you, Poppa Knight or Reverend Walker. I know what you two are about. You’re doing God’s work for sure. But too many of these folks are getting out of hand. Somebody needs to stop them; somebody’s got to take a stand.”

  “Now, here comes Pastor Landris. Already been on national television, unlike some of these wannabe, little shots around here. Do you have any idea what will happen if he sets up shop—hangs his shingle out, stating he’s open for business? We’re all sunk! Sunk! That man has charisma. He’s anointed,” Reverend Grant said. “I used to watch him all the time on television before he went off the air. In fact, I’ve preached more than a few of his sermons, word for word. Of all places, he would decide to move here.”

  “This area can only support so many large churches,” Re
verend Theodore said. “I just have a feeling if Pastor Landris gets things rolling, he’s going to put a lot of us slap out of business. I’m talking slap out, and that includes Reverend Walker and Poppa Knight.”

  Reverend Knight started shaking his head. “This is kind of sad, y’all. We’re sitting here talking about a fellow preach-brother as though we were some gang members defending our territory. ‘He’s going to put a lot of us slap out of business’? Reverend Theodore, what’s that all about? We’re acting like he’s the enemy. He’s telling people about the Lord. He’s bringing people to Christ. Isn’t that the business we’re all supposed to be in?”

  Reverend Walker squared his body in front of Reverend Knight. “What’s up with you? Sounds to me like you’re starting to like this fellow. You backing out? Having a change of heart? If you are, let us know, and we’ll be glad to let you out before you get in too deep.”

  “Out of what?” Reverend Grant asked. “Out of the group, or out of our plan?”

  Reverend Walker looked hard at Reverend Knight. “That’s entirely up to Poppa Knight here. Ain’t that right, Doc?”

  Reverend Knight looked back at him and stood up. “I know you’re not stepping to my face with all that noise. I would suggest you take a few steps back and calm yourself down.” He waited on Reverend Walker to do as he had just suggested.

  Reverend Walker snickered a little and took two deliberate steps back. “Better?”

  “Better,” Reverend Knight said and sat back down. “Now listen to me. All of you. We are not thugs. Pastor Landris is still our brother in the Lord, regardless of what any of us think here. When I made that offer to him to give him that building at no charge, I meant it with sincerity. We are not about lying like that. After I spoke with him that first day, I admit, I did see something special in that young, dreadlocks-wearing, preacher—”

  “Don’t tell us you’re bonding with him and would like him to become a part of our group?” Reverend Grant said.

  “I’m merely stating that what I said to him today, I mean for us to keep our word on. If he comes back and tells me he wants the building, I want to give it to him just like I said I would. He will be putting his own funds into fixing the place up. He can use it for as long as he wants—”

  “Within a reasonable time limit,” Reverend Theodore said. “We decided no more than five years.”

  “Five years, with a clause allowing us to rescind it at any time at our discretion with written notification, three months in advance,” Reverend Walker said. “We’ve already decided and agreed that will be a nonnegotiable stipulation of his contract.”

  “Yes, Reverend Walker. Five years with an anytime out-clause for us,” Reverend Grant said.

  “The point is, I believe Pastor Landris is going to find the building’s location is not the best place to ask people to come. He’s not going to have that many people driving way out there to attend anybody’s church—including his,” Reverend Walker said. “More importantly, we’ll still own the building. If Pastor Landris takes Poppa Knight up on this offer, he’ll sink some big money into fixing it up, which will only increase the value of the building for later use. Better still, if we see things are getting too out of hand too soon, we can shut him down within three months. There’s nothing worse than having a large congregation with nowhere permanent to fellowship. That’ll scatter sheep pretty quickly.” He smiled.

  “So all we have to do now is to wait and see what Pastor Landris decides?” Reverend Beam said, looking from one preacher to the other. “Then go from there.”

  “I don’t think it’s going to take long, do you, Poppa Knight?” Reverend Walker looked at his friend. “And if you don’t hear from him soon, I’m sure you’ll follow up and impress upon him how this truly is a legitimate offer he’d be foolish to turn down.”

  “I’ll do what I have to do,” Reverend Knight said. “I told him to pray about it—we’ll see which direction he takes.”

  Reverend Walker clapped his hands again. “Wonderful! Well, gentlemen, shall we pray?”

  Three of the five picked up a dried-out pastry and nodded before taking a bite. They bowed their heads, sitting in their respective places, as Reverend Walker led them in a long and fervent prayer.

  Chapter 10

  Preserve me, O God: for in thee do I put my trust.

  (Psalm 16:1)

  Johnnie Mae and Pastor Landris had a long discussion about having more children. It was 2002, and Princess Rose would be four in December. Pastor Landris had no children of his own, and Johnnie Mae would be celebrating her forty-second birthday in August. Until she actually thought about the number 42, she believed she had plenty of time to adjust to being newly married before deciding whether or not she should have a baby.

  In 1998, she’d become a mother when she hadn’t expected to, then had become an author signed with a major publisher, coping with uncompromising deadlines. Two years following this, her husband died. On September 8, 2001, she became a wife again, marrying a man she’d been good friends with who ushered her into the position of a pastor’s wife. Three days after their wedding, 9/11 happened, and she and Pastor Landris returned to Atlanta, only to learn he was officially being terminated as the pastor of a congregation he’d helped build and loved dearly. Now the couple was living in Birmingham.

  She didn’t even want to think about all that had happened with Sarah Fleming, Lena Patterson, and Theresa Jordan—or Asheville, North Carolina, and Montgomery Powell II. One of the good things that had come out of her two Asheville visits was her having met Pearl Black and her sweet great-granddaughter Angela Gabriel. Ironically, Angel, as everybody called her, ended up moving to Birmingham.

  Angel had called Johnnie Mae a few days before Christmas in December 2001.

  “Johnnie Mae, this is Angel. I’m so glad you’re home.” Her voice sounded shaky.

  “Angel, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, I suppose. I don’t know. You know, I started this new job back in late October working as a manager for this radio station. Rumor has it they’re planning to sell it, and I’m not sure where that will leave me. I’m trying to be calm, but the truth is, I left my home and a secure job in Asheville, and I don’t know what may happen to me if this rumor is true.”

  By this time, Johnnie Mae knew that Pastor Landris was the person buying the radio station, but she didn’t want to say too much before everything was finalized. Johnnie Mae also knew that no one could predict with certainty how it would turn out in the end.

  “Angel, do me a favor and don’t worry about it, okay? God is still in control, no matter what might be happening in our lives, even when things look bad.”

  “I know. But sometimes things don’t work out the way we feel they ought to, and bad things do happen to God’s people. I know I don’t have to tell you that. Just look at what happened with Pastor Landris and that church in Atlanta,” Angel said.

  “Yes, but you have to take an honest look at what happened. What Satan means for bad, God will use for good. Granted, Pastor Landris lost his position in Atlanta, and now he has moved to Birmingham. But see how God had His hand in the situation. I still had my house, so we didn’t have to find a place to live when we came back here.”

  “Yeah, that’s true.”

  “And we had no idea the first time you and I met that you would be moving to Birmingham, yet here you are.”

  She laughed. “Yes, here I am. I can see what happened to Pastor Landris was the reason he moved here. And if he hadn’t moved, you wouldn’t be here now, and I wouldn’t have a soul in Birmingham that feels anything like family.”

  “See? Now had those seemingly bad things not happened, he and I probably wouldn’t be here, for sure. So far, that part has turned out to be a good thing, even though it certainly looked and felt bad at the time.”

  “Is Pastor Landris ready to start a church any time soon? I am attending a church—it’s okay as far as churches go, I suppose. But I’ve listened to a lot of Pastor
Landris’s tapes, and I really would love to worship under his leadership.”

  “We’re working on it—things are looking good. Pastor Landris has a big project he’s trying to complete first,” Johnnie Mae said, referring to the radio station deal. “I’m not at liberty to say anything just yet, but I think you’ll be excited when you hear about it. I also found a wonderful piece of property as a possible church site. It has 40 acres, and another 150 surrounding it that could become available to us. Pastor Landris has these grand ideas of where God wants him to go with this ministry. Besides the worship center, there will be a life center, activity center, drama theater, school, college, credit union, and other things I’m sure I’ve failed to mention. Not that Pastor Landris wants any glory—to God be the glory. It’ll be a way to minister to God’s people covering every area of their lives, spiritually, physically, socially, and financially,” Johnnie Mae said with excitement.

  “In fact,” she continued, “Pastor Landris and I are waiting to hear back from the owners today regarding the cost of the land.”

  “I’ll put in a prayer that things work out,” Angel said. “Okay. So I’m not going to worry. It’s like you often say: ‘If you’re going to pray, don’t worry; and if you’re going to worry, then don’t pray.’”

  “There you go. Use your energies elsewhere.”

  “Yeah, like doing a great job for this company so regardless of who comes in and takes over, they’ll want to keep me on.”

  “That’s the spirit—you’re going to be fine. I’m sure the new owners, if that turns out to be the case, are going to be wowed by you. You’re a lovely young person, with a good head on your shoulders. You have innovative ideas that could take their radio station to a whole new level.”

  Angel laughed. “I’m always encouraged and inspired after I finish talking with you. Always. I hate to bother you, knowing how hectic your schedule is, but I love our conversations.”