“Brothers and Sisters, it gives me great pleasure to introduce and bring to you my beloved brother in Christ to preach the sermon for today, the Reverend Josephus Washington.” Preacher stepped back from the pulpit, he extended one hand palm out toward the stage wings, the other hand he held out to the congregation, palm up to signal their applause.
Obediently the congregation followed his lead, the applause beginning to swell through the auditorium. The applause faltered for a moment as Joe stepped from the wings but Preacher would have none of it. With a commanding gesture he bade them to continue and they did as Joe walked across the giant stage, his flowing dark blue robe with white trimming falling below his ministerial collar, the special lighting makeup blended for his dark skin giving him the ideal image of a man of God.
They shook hands, embraced, and then Preacher escorted him to the pulpit and retired to a chair, seating himself behind the pulpit and retired to a chair, seating himself behind the pulpit and slightly to the right so that he would always be in camera range in order to indicate his approval and acceptance.
A stillness fell across the congregation as Joe looked out at them. He stood straight and tall, his serious face high above the pulpit, making it seem almost too small for him. Still not speaking, he took a small wireless pin microphone and fastened it to his robe, then stepped around and in front of the pulpit. Again, he stood silently for a moment, looking at them before he spoke. When he did, his voice was rich and filled with all the musical beauty of the great ministers of the past.
“Brothers and Sisters, my sermon today will come from the First Psalm. Let me repeat those holy words to you before I begin.
Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, not sitteth in the seat of the scornful.
But his delight is in the law of the Lord; and in his law doth he meditate day and night.
And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper.
The ungodly are not so: but are like the chaff which the wind driveth away.
Therefore the ungodly shall not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous.
For the Lord knoweth the way of the righteous: but the way of the ungodly shall perish.”
He let his voice fade away and walked back to the pulpit. He placed his large hands on the edges of the lectern and looked out at the congregation. Once more his strong, rich voice echoed in the auditorium.
“We live today in a world filled with the ungodly—those men who threaten the fabric of our lives and seek to take from us our rights, our liberties and our very freedom. The ungodly ones who seek to turn brother against brother, neighbor against neighbor, race against race, creed against creed. The ungodly who threaten to take from us the very food from the mouths of our children, the meager comforts of our aged. The ungodly who seek nothing more than to steal the whole world for the devil from the merciful grace of our beloved Christ Jesus!”
Slowly a ripple of applause began to grow until it swelled into a roar of approval. Behind him, seated in his chair, Preacher allowed himself a faint smile. Joe had them.
Chapter Fifteen
Joe came to the end of his sermon to the roaring applause of the congregation and Preacher rose from his chair and walked toward the pulpit as Joe left it. They clasped hands warmly and Joe took his seat as Preacher stood behind the pulpit. Preacher held up his hand for silence. The congregation settled back.
Preacher smiled and nodded his head. “On behalf of the Community of God as well as myself, I want to extend my thanks and deep gratitude to Reverend Washington for his stirring and uplifting sermon to us today. I know that all of us will be inspired by his words to a greater effort to consecrate ourselves to our Lord Jesus Christ and I am sure that his example and his devotion to the Gospel will continue to inspire us in the future.”
He paused for a moment, then continued. “As you know, at the beginning of these services I mentioned three wise men who have come to aid us in our work for the Lord. This week I introduced to you the Reverend Josephus Washington, the first of those good men. In weeks to come I will bring you the second, Dr. Thomas Sorensen, formerly associate pastor of the Liberty Baptist Church, and the third, Dr. Mark L. Ryker, formerly associate dean of religious studies at Oral Roberts University. Each of these men will bring to us the richness of their faith in the Lord, and together we shall forge the greatest army for Christ the world has ever known.”
The director’s voice crackled in his earphone. “Three minutes, Dr. Talbot.”
Preacher held up his hand to hold back the applause that was beginning to swell through the auditorium. He began to speak almost before the sound died away.
“Now, for the first time since this ministry was started and because of the addition of these great men to share my burdens, it will be possible for the Community of God Church of Christian America Triumphant to make plans and engage in an even greater effort to bring Jesus Christ to the hearts and souls of all men than it ever has before.
“The first of these plans is to organize and achieve the first nationwide Crusade for Christ ever held in the United States on one day. Three months from now on Labor Day, the first Monday in September, at the same moment in time all over the United States, in churches, auditoriums, and stadiums, all linked together by the God-given miracle of satellite, hundreds of thousands, perhaps even millions, of people will gather together in Christian brotherhood and raise their voices to the heavens in prayer and homage to our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and rededicate themselves and their lives once more to Him who died on the cross for all the sins of mankind.”
The director’s voice crackled again in his ear. “Thirty seconds.”
Preacher held both arms in the air. “The time has come again to bring to a close our program, ‘Sunday Morning at Churchland,’ and until next Sunday at the same time and on the same stations, I pray that you will live in the Spirit of Christ Jesus. So, goodbye for now and may God be with you.”
He remained in the pulpit, smiling and still holding his arms in the air as the choir broke into song behind them. A quick glance at the monitor screen revealed the camera zooming in close on his face as the credit lines raced across the screen.
The director’s voice crackled in his earphone. “Your secretary called, Dr. Talbot, and asked that you come to your office as soon as the program is over.”
He nodded, still smiling. It was not entirely unexpected. By now, all hell had to be breaking loose in the ranks of the ungodly. He waited until the screen had gone to black and the congregation began filing out before he left the stage.
***
The telephone messages were on his desk. He picked them up. Jake Randle. Marcus Lincoln. John Connors, the supervisor at the Fort Worth 800-line message center. Helen Lacey. Richard Craig. His mother. Jake Randle twice again. He returned his mother’s call first.
“I thought what you did on the program today, Constantine, was wonderful,” his mother said.
“Thank you, Mother,” he said. “But I have the feeling that not many around here will agree with you.”
She laughed on the telephone. “Did whatever others thought ever mean anything to you?” she asked. “Haven’t you always listened to your own God?”
“Not my own God, Mother,” he said. “Everyone’s God.”
“That’s true, Constantine,” she said, “but somehow you seem to hear Him say things that other people do not.”
“Maybe they listen only to what they want to hear.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I just wanted you to know that I am very proud of you and I’m sure that Jane is too.”
He was silent for a moment. “I wouldn’t know how she feels, Mother. Jane’s left me.”
“I’m sorry, Constantine.” His mother’s voice was shocked. “When did it happen?”
; “About a week ago. She took the children and went up to Dallas. She plans to buy a house there and go back to work.”
“Did you talk to her?”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps she’ll come back when she’s had a chance to think it over,” his mother said.
“I think not, Mother. Her mind seems made up. She told me that she wasn’t cut out to be a minister’s wife, that she doesn’t like living in Churchland because she feels like a prisoner in a fishbowl.”
“It has to be more than that,” his mother said shrewdly.
“She said that I use all the love in me to give everyone in the name of Christ and that I have none of my own to give to any one person, including myself.”
His mother was silent for a moment. “She’s not altogether wrong, son.”
Preacher’s voice was weary. “I didn’t say she was, Mother.”
“You can change, Constantine. Other ministers make time for their personal lives.”
“I wish I could, Mother.” He felt his voice near the breaking point. “I’ve lived all my life with one dream. To make God real. To show the world that God lives. I don’t know any other way. And if I take anything away from that dream to make room for my own selfish needs then my life will be nothing and I might as well have never lived. If I do not belong to God and give all my love to Him, then who do I belong to?”
“You also belong to those who love you, Constantine,” she said softly.
“I know, Mother,” he said. “But God’s love is greater than any in this world have to give.”
A hint of sadness came into her voice. “Many times, Constantine, I have wondered whether you were really my son.”
“I have always been your son, Mother,” he said softly. “Just as I have always been God’s child. As we all are.”
She hesitated a moment. “Would you mind if I spoke with Jane?”
“Not at all, Mother,” he said. “As a matter of fact I think she would appreciate it. She too needs friends to love her.”
He put down the telephone after giving his mother Jane’s number in Dallas and stared silently at the instrument for a long while. Then he reached for it again and asked his secretary to get Connors at the Fort Worth telephone center for him.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Dr. Talbot,” Connors said. “But I thought it important to let you know what’s happening here.”
“I’m glad you called, John,” Preacher said. “Please go ahead.”
“As you know, sir, we always have extra personnel on the phones when the program is on the air but this time it was impossible to keep up with the calls. Shortly after Reverend Washington began to speak the phones started coming off the wall. At one point near the end of the program we had almost a thousand calls stacked up. We’re still five hundred calls behind.”
“How do you rate the calls, John, favorable or unfavorable?”
“We’re programming the computer for that right now, sir,” Connors answered. “Unfortunately, due to the pileup there were many calls we couldn’t pick up in time and lost completely. And, for the first time in our experience, there were many anonymous calls that we picked up where the caller never gave a name.” He paused for a moment, then came back on the line. “The breakdown is coming up now, sir. You can pick up the information on your desk computer screen. The access code we assigned to the breakdown is FW-800-316-248.”
Preacher pressed the computer switch on and tapped out the access code. The figures rolled onto the screen in front of him at the same time that Connors began to read them aloud.
Total calls registered at air time plus thirty minutes
6,142
Total calls lost
2,961
Total calls answered
3,181 = 100%
Anonymous calls answered
1,060–33% U
Normal calls answered
2,121–67%
Normal calls breakdown
320–10% U
Normal calls breakdown
1,801–57% F
Coding: U-Unfavorable F-Favorable End Breakdown Report.
Preacher turned off the computer and the screen went blank. “How long would it take to get a geographical point of origin for the calls, John?” he asked.
“We can have the normal calls for you in a few minutes, sir,” Connors replied. “But we have to get the anonymous call register from the telephone company, sir, and I doubt whether we could have that much before the day after tomorrow. They would have to pull a special-billing run for us.”
“Do it,” Preacher said. “I want to know where in the country the anonymous calls came from.”
“I do too, sir,” John said. “Our people are still in a state of shock. You just cannot believe the language many of those callers used. The most foul and abusive language any of us have ever heard.”
“You track that information, John,” Preacher said. “People who use language like that are sick. And it is just as well for us to know the location of our enemies.”
“I’ll get right on it, Dr. Talbot.”
“Thank you, John,” Preacher said. “You’ve done an excellent job and I want you to know I personally appreciate it.”
“Thank you, Dr. Talbot.” John seemed pleased. “Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, John.” Preacher put down the telephone. He jotted some figures on his pad and stared at them thoughtfully. He wondered how many of the anonymous callers were members of the church and if it would ever be possible to find out. But the figures themselves were scary. An unfavorable reaction of 43 percent of the total calls logged could in no way be interpreted as good for the church.
Marcus Lincoln was his next call. “You came out of left field with that one, Preacher,” he said. “Ten minutes after you were on the air, the old man was on the wire screaming for me to pull you off the air.”
“That sounds like par for the course,” Preacher said.
“That was only the beginning,” Marcus said. “You should have heard him when I told him there was no way we could do it. That there were at least a hundred stations around the country that would sue our balls off for leaving them with dead air and they would probably win. In addition to that they would jump at the chance to cancel our time contract, which has another three years to run at ’79 rates and which they could turn right around and sell at today’s rates, which are almost three times as much.”
Preacher laughed. “That had to send him up the wall.”
“It did,” Marcus said. “Then he took off on me and wanted to know why in hell I wasn’t riding herd on you and how come I didn’t know you were going to do a program like that and if I did, why wasn’t he informed.
“I explained to him that the script we had seen wasn’t anything like that which went on the air, and that I had checked with the director in the control booth, who had told me that you pulled the switch on him the moment you went on the air.”
“That was true,” Preacher said. “I’m sorry I had to put you on the spot like that, but if I had talked about it in advance I might never had been able to do it. It would have been meetinged to death.” He paused for a moment. “Anyway, it’s done now and that’s the end of it.”
“Not according to him. He’s going to get that nigger’s ass are his exact words, then he’s going after you. Another quote from him. You’re getting too big for your britches, you’re forgetting that he put you up there and that he can take you down just as fast. He’s not going to stand by and let the Christian principles that he believes in be torn down by pot-smoking adulterers who desert their wives and children.”
“Is that all he said?” Preacher asked quietly.
“No,” Marcus answered. “He said if I let one more incident like that get by me, I could consider myself fired. I told him if he really felt like that he could have my resignation right now, but he backed away from that one.”
“Thank you, Marcus,” Preacher said genuinely. “That took real guts.”
“Not re
ally,” Marcus replied. “I’ve about reached the point where I’ve taken as much of his bullshit as I could. This isn’t the only job in the world.”
“It still took courage,” Preacher said.
“I don’t know,” Marcus answered. “I’m not completely stupid. I can read the writing on the wall. He’s going to get me sooner or later. For what other reason would he bring in Sanford Carrol? You don’t need two men to do the same job and I think he’s already convinced himself that I’m in your corner.”
“You may not know it, Marcus,” Preacher said, “but you’re not in my corner; we’re both in God’s.”
“I’ll accept that,” Marcus said.
“Good,” Preacher answered. “Now, I want you to get some information for me in a hurry. I need the overnight Nielsens from the major markets in a hurry. First half-hour of the program against the second. I have to know whether we lost any audience after Joe went on the air.”
“Expect any trouble?” Marcus asked.
“I’m afraid so,” Preacher replied seriously. “But I hope I’m wrong.”
“I’ll try to have them for you by noon tomorrow.”
“Good. I’ll talk to you then,” Preacher said.
“One more thing,” Marcus said. “Don’t forget that Kim Hickox is coming in on Churchland I tomorrow afternoon at three o’clock and you promised to meet her.”
“I’ll be there,” Preacher said. “Thanks again, Marcus.”
The intercom buzzed as soon as he put down the telephone. “Mrs. Talbot is on line two, Dr. Talbot.”
“Tell her that I’ll call her back immediately on my private line,” Preacher said. He waited a moment to give her time to hang up, then dialed her number.
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