Blessed Trinity

by Vanessa Davis Griggs

  “We thought about that,” Mr. Watts chimed in. “It doesn’t feel right to any of us. We would really rather put the money into something that will belong to us instead of throwing it away on rent. Our heart’s desire is to be good stewards of God’s money, no matter what we’re doing.”

  “I personally don’t see what the fuss is all about,” Thomas said. “It’s only money. So we rent a place and fix it up, then leave it in, say, a year or two. What’s the big deal? It’s better than sitting around talking things to death.” He shook his head and started laughing. “You should have taken that building that preacher was going to let you have. I still don’t understand your reasons for not going with that deal. I would have taken it, myself.”

  Sapphire looked at Thomas. She knew he still wasn’t getting enough sleep by the dark circles under his eyes. His condition definitely wasn’t improving. She and Thomas were talking again as a couple, but he had become more withdrawn. He didn’t want to talk about anything that concerned him or his erratic behavior. Not with her. He’d made it clear that his business was his, and not any of his brother’s.

  Yes, he had bought more things—lots more things. But he was working on starting up a production company now. He needed tools like that expensive video camera he’d purchased on credit that no, he couldn’t afford. But it was portable and high-definition. So what if it cost a little over $6,000? When he got going with his company, he would make that chump change back in no time. He needed someone to support him and his dreams the way Johnnie Mae supported her husband.

  “God is calling me into the television ministry,” Thomas said last week when he excitedly showed Sapphire the expensive equipment for his latest endeavor. “There are lots of preachers out there who want to be on TV. With this, I can go out, tape them, and do an all-around professional job. Three good contracts will all but pay for this camera,” he’d said.

  So Thomas didn’t understand what the fuss was about when it came to getting something as simple as a church building. His philosophy seemed to be: If you have any money at all, spend it while you can, as quickly as you can. Life will take care of itself.

  “We discussed this,” Pastor Landris said to Thomas, “and the majority decided the best thing would be to put that kind of money toward something that we owned.”

  “Have you thought about buying land and building a church?” Brent asked.

  “Sure, we found a parcel of forty acres, but the price is astronomical,” Angel said.

  Brent thought for a second. “Have you checked to see if you can purchase a few of those acres instead of the entire forty at one time?”

  “The owners want to sell the whole thing as a package deal,” Johnnie Mae said.

  “I see. I recall a company exec who once said the exact same thing to my father. Our company proposed buying a good chunk of that land, and we signed a legally binding agreement with them to purchase the rest at a later date. Of course, the smaller amount of land will likely be a bit higher per acre, but it would get us started.”

  “You think that will really work?” Pastor Landris asked.

  “It’s worth a try. I’d be glad to help out—I’m pretty good negotiating deals.”

  “Pretty good, nothing,” Angel said. “I’ve never seen anyone work miracles like Mr. Brent Underwood here.”

  Brent turned to Pastor Landris. “Here’s my card. I’ll be happy to see what we can do. If we can get them to sell a few acres, we could check into buying one or two of those modular buildings. In about a month or two, tops, we could have a church building ready for people to come worship. Large congregations use those buildings a lot. You might be surprised if I named some of them. Trust me—they’re not cheesy-looking on the inside at all. And the best part is: you’ll own the land and you can either lease or own the buildings. They could be used for future things down the road after a larger sanctuary is finally built on the other acres.”

  “I love this idea,” Pastor Landris said. “You’re pretty sharp, Brent.”

  “Thank you, sir. As I said, I’m sorry I have to run, but I have an appointment. And I detest lateness. Call me, Pastor Landris, and we’ll get right on this. By October or November, we could be gathering in our brand-new sanctuary.”

  But things didn’t go so smoothly. The company that owned the land wouldn’t budge. It was all or nothing. It took three months of badgering to get them to consider the offer and another month to finally agree. Then there was the infrastructure requirement: water lines, electricity, gas, and roads that had to be developed. Inspectors took longer than Pastor Landris ever believed it would take to approve various steps in the process.

  But with prayer, faith, and a lot of hard work, the congregation officially moved into the building the last week of July 2003. And on that first Sunday in August, 150 people came and joined the church. The following week, over 100 more did the same.

  Pastor Landris could see that at the rate people were coming, he’d soon have to hold two services. People were steadily streaming in, creating problems Pastor Landris hadn’t even begun to plan for. Never did he imagine more than 500 people would be attending services after just a few weeks in a building that could only accommodate 500. He had been fairly certain there would be plenty of time for them to grow into all of this. He was wrong. His reputation from his ministry in Atlanta, as well as having appeared nationwide on television while there, was drawing people more rapidly here.

  Suddenly, Pastor Landris realized what a mess this could be if he didn’t get a handle on things fairly quickly. He had the original ten people who joined that first Sunday back in March 2002—the Wattses, Sherry, Thomas, Sapphire, Angel, Tarsha, Simone, and Benjamin—Johnnie Mae made ten. During the months coming up to July 2003, membership had grown to a little over sixty.

  Fortunately, Pastor Landris had begun various leadership classes, so there was some help amid the influx of people. He had a pretty good idea about who he could really trust out of that core sixty. However, other people were anxious to work in the ministry—he and his staff had to determine the best way to handle this. Pastor Landris immediately hired more staff. Things definitely changed in a hurry.

  And so by August, things were going better than anyone expected.

  But Johnnie Mae still hadn’t conceived. She pretended she was fine, but Pastor Landris could see how this was affecting her. He didn’t know if he should tell her it didn’t matter to him whether they had a child or not. Would she take it the wrong way?

  When he saw her spirits lower than he’d ever seen them before, he decided to talk with her about it. They’d both been tested extensively; there wasn’t anything the doctors could find that was keeping Johnnie Mae from conceiving. The doctor explained that stress could have an effect on a woman’s ability to conceive, as can her age after forty.

  With the marriage, relocating to Birmingham, starting a new church, and her mother’s memory problems, Johnnie Mae was definitely stressed.

  But in August, a woman visited the church. Johnnie Mae liked her the first day she met the timid woman walking alone, almost too withdrawn to strike up a conversation with anyone. So Johnnie Mae walked up to her and smiled. “Hi, I’m Johnnie Mae.”

  “Nice to meet you.” She shook Johnnie Mae’s hand. “My name is Hope Morrell.”

  “Hope. Are you a first-time visitor?” Johnnie Mae asked as she pointed to the red-colored badge Hope wore, signaling she was visiting for either the first or second time.

  “Yes,” Hope said with a smile as she dropped her head down, then looked back up. “I heard a tape of the pastor preaching. I had to come find this place, which is really out of character for me. But Pastor Landris is such a powerful speaker, I felt I would be blessed if I came to hear him in person, and I truly was. I’ve never heard anyone like him before.”

  “We all enjoy his preaching and teaching.” Johnnie Mae watched Hope as she continued to look up at her, then added, “So you enjoyed yourself?”

  “Oh,” her fac
e lit up and there was such a smile in her eyes, “…very much so! From the praise and worship until the final amen. I even took notes, which is also something different for me. I ended up having to write them on the back of my program. I didn’t realize I should have brought a notebook. I’ll know the next time, though.”

  “Hope, I have something I would love to give you—if you’d care to have it, that is.”

  No one had ever offered to give Hope anything for no reason at all. “Sure,” she said. She couldn’t believe this woman of obvious distinction was taking so much time talking to her and being so nice. People generally treated her like she wasn’t there. “Thank you.”

  “If you’ll wait here about five minutes, I’ll run real quick and bring it back.”

  “I’ll wait. Thank you again. You’re so nice to do this. I’m going to stand over there, out of the way.” She pointed toward a corner where there was less traffic. Hope couldn’t believe how kind and friendly everybody was. She smiled back as folks nodded her way, waved, or came over and spoke. She felt so at home here.

  Johnnie Mae touched her arm. “I’m back,” she said, startling Hope. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause you to jump.”

  Hope smiled. “It’s okay. I’m known for being jumpy and nervous at times. I’m working on getting better, though. And hearing Pastor Landris speaking on all that I am in Christ really has given my confidence a boost. I’m fearfully and wonderfully made,” she said. “I am not weak; I’m strong. I’m free—and whom the Son sets free, is free indeed.” She let out a controlled giggle.

  “Well, here you are,” Johnnie Mae said as she handed Hope a purple journal with a raised, gold-foil design on the outside. “This is for you. And yes, Hope, you’re all of those things and much more. You’re also of a royal priesthood, a child of the Most High King.”

  As Hope took the journal, she covered her mouth with her hand, then looked into Johnnie Mae’s eyes. “This is so beautiful! Thank you,” she said as she hugged the journal close to her. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you for everything. Really, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Johnnie Mae said with a smile. “And Hope, you have a lot going for you. You need to start believing that.”

  Hope blushed and nodded without saying another word. Her head started to lower again, but she suddenly stopped, and with a certain pride, she held her head up high.

  After Johnnie Mae walked away, Hope opened the journal where the purple ribbon marked a page to glance inside. That’s when she saw an inscription.

  Hope,

  You’re of a royal priesthood, a true child of the King. Keep your head up! God’s blessings to you,

  Johnnie Mae Taylor Landris 8/3/2003

  Hope had no idea until that moment that she’d been talking not only to the pastor’s wife, but to an author whose books she’d seen at the library and in the bookstore. Hope had been made to feel important today. She laughed out loud, did a quick half-spin around on her toes, and with a renewed bounce in her step and a newfound confidence, she headed for the exit.

  She would be back. Oh, yes. Whatever it took to get here, Hope was determined—she would be back!

  Chapter 15

  And immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand, and caught him, and said unto him, O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?

  (Matthew 14:31)

  Faith was in a pretty certain place when it came to her feelings about church. A few of her co-workers were always talking about this “walking on the water” Pastor Landris. Daily it was “Pastor Landris said this” and “Pastor Landris said that.” She didn’t want to hear about it. Then they started giving her tapes all the time of his sermons. To Faith, no pastor was that great. There had to be something in his closet, some thorn he was praying to God to remove from his side. She didn’t want to go through that ever again.

  All her life, many of the men she’d known had pretended to be good and true, but turned out to be wolves in sheep’s clothing. Charity’s job had taken her to Birmingham and Hope and Faith naturally followed. Faith was merely looking for a fresh start—somewhere new, where nobody knew any of them. Hope didn’t like making waves, so she usually went along with whatever Faith and Charity decided. So things had worked out perfectly.

  But the last thing Faith was interested in was attending anybody’s church. And that included this one with the great and powerful Pastor Landris.

  Then Hope happened to listen to one of Pastor Landris’s tapes about peace, and she decided to go to the church.

  That’s when Faith had to see for herself what this man was all about, so she went, too. Pastor Landris was a handsome man—almost took her breath away. His voice was deep and so smooth when he spoke. She understood a little better what was drawing Hope there.

  Pastor Landris was more of a teacher-like preacher. For the first time in her life, Faith actually understood what particular scriptures meant in the context in which they were written. She had become fascinated with this seemingly true man of God, though she had a few reservations.

  Hope joined Followers of Jesus Faith Worship Center in September 2003.

  Chapter 16

  For the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ.

  (Ephesians 4:12)

  Many people were shocked to learn that becoming a member of the Followers of Jesus Faith Worship Center didn’t require some of the same things as other churches.

  “At the church I just left,” a woman said to Hope as they sat waiting in the conference room for instructions on what would be required next, “we had to complete a fifteen-week new-member’s class before we could even ask to become a member.”

  “Really?” Hope said.

  “Girl, it was a trip. You had to go every week, and if you missed a class, you had to make it up. Making it up would have been all right, I suppose, only it wasn’t like several classes were running consecutively. If you got sick or had an emergency, which was what happened with me, you had to wait until a new group was taking that class. When they informed me I would have to complete all my classes before I could receive the right hand of fellowship, I told them it was easier getting into heaven than getting into this church. I’ve vowed not to speak the name of that church ever again, but I bet if I said their little catch phrase, you’d know the church I’m talking about.”

  Hope shrugged, wondering if this woman would ever stop talking long enough to come up for air. “I probably wouldn’t know,” Hope said. “I don’t visit many churches.”

  “Oh, you wouldn’t have had to go there. He’s on television—I’m sure you’ve seen him.”

  “I doubt it,” Hope said, looking back down at her unopened Bible. “I don’t watch much TV, either.”

  “I’m feeling you. I flip through the channels—my old man calls it channel surfing. I happened to have seen that church on TV, and he was begging for money like many of them do these days. And to think folks used to make fun of Reverend Ike back in the day when he was doing what many of them do now. At least with Reverend Ike you got a prayer cloth.” She popped her chewing gum. “Anyway, I was flipping through the channels, right? And I heard him say, ‘If this program has been a blessing to you, please consider sending your financial support.’ Well, I did enjoy his message that day—he can be quite funny. I bet you’ve heard of him, but I’m not going to say his name or the church’s name.”

  The woman readjusted her body, shifting her weight to her other hip. “Anyway, I went down there, and all the people were being so nice to me and everything. Coming up and speaking, telling me how glad they were I came. Trying to act like they’re so loving.”

  Hope smiled but said nothing as the woman continued.

  “It was only after I joined that I found out people don’t really care about you. If you’re a visitor, they’re told to be sure to love on you, but that’s just to trick folks. After I didn’t wear that visitor’s badge anymore, hardly anybody ever looked my
way. But now, you let a white person come in the church, and they act like gold has graced the carpet. I’m talking about these folk now. The rest of us had to sit where they made us, which usually meant you filled up the rows as you came in. But when somebody white came—and trust me, I don’t have anything against white folk—there’s an obvious difference. And the pastor was a black man.” She looked to see if Hope was still following her.

  “And the camera operators always put the cameras on them so it would look to the TV audience like white folk were in large attendance. That’s the other white folks’ signal that it’s okay to come on down. Of course now, to be fair, those white televangelists do the same thing. They’ll find a few black faces in the crowd and spotlight them so folks will think black folks are welcomed. I ain’t hating, though. Folks got to do what they got to. And we do need to come together as the body of Christ.” She stopped and looked at Hope again. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

  Hope looked back at her. “No. I suppose I’m just a better listener.”

  “Well, I’m a good listener, too, I guess, when somebody has something to say. That’s why I’m enjoying this church with this pastor.” She stopped and looked closer at Hope. “Forgive me, but what’s your name?”

  “Hope.”

  “Hope?” she said. “Well, my name is Regina.” She reached over and shook Hope’s hand. “Anyway, Hope, who knows what we’ll have to go through to get into this place. You know Pastor Landris used to come on TV when he was in Atlanta. That’s one of the reasons why people are flocking here in droves. He had a mega church. I hear they kicked him to the curb because he believes it’s okay for women to preach. I was taught women shouldn’t be preachers, and it’s hard for me to believe differently. But I love this man’s teaching, and he’s not hard to look at, either. I’m excited about becoming a member. So Hope, what’s your story?”