by Dijorn Moss
“Be seated, please be seated,” Pastor Dawkins ordered.
All the men took their seats, and Pastor Dawkins did a slow spin and made eye contact with every man. “What’s wrong?” Pastor Dawkins asked. Pastor Dawkins let the question sink into the hearts of the men, but Quincy did not internalize it.
“Whatever is wrong, now is the time and this is the place where you can leave it on the floor. Confess to God and to your brothers, and let’s become advocates for change. It’s time to be men.” Just like that, Pastor Dawkins took a seat on the opposite side of the circle from Quincy.
A middle-aged man walked to the middle of the circle with one hand covering his mouth. “I’m so glad to be here with my brothers. I almost didn’t make it here. On Thursday night I was in a crack house when someone walked in and started shooting up the place. A bullet just missed my head.” The guy paused to clear his throat. “I crawled into a corner and prayed that if the Lord got me out of this one, I would never be the same again.”
Quincy was as terrified as anyone else in the room. To come so close to death would turn anybody religious.
“I’m here because I need my brothers’ help. I can’t make it without you, and I need you guys to hold me accountable,” this man confessed.
He received a score of “Amen’s” and he took each one as a sign of encouragement as he sat down. No sooner had the man sat down than Chauncey followed and stood in the middle. Quincy rolled his eyes because he knew—and everyone in the room knew—that Chauncey talked too much.
“Praise the Lord, brother!” Chauncey pointed to the man who had just sat down.
“Brother Edwards, you don’t hesitate to call me, you hear? I’m going to lift you up in prayer.” Chauncey then looked around the room. “I just wanted to encourage you all to put God first and keep Him first in your life. Be blessed, brothers.” He sat down in his chair.
To Quincy’s surprise, Chauncey had been brief. The next man was someone who Quincy had not seen in a long time: Clarence Reeves. He was one of the few men who attended Greater Anointing who Quincy liked. He liked Clarence because he was white and was not at all fazed by skin color. He just loved church. Clarence looked frail, like he had not been eating. Quincy could not blame him; the food at that place was terrible.
“Brothers, I’m here because I’m tired of running. I thought I was running from God when really I was running from who I am. For the last two years I’ve tried to hate God, because I can’t understand why God would make something that He hates.”
Quincy’s heart went out more to Clarence, because he did not think anybody was ready for what Clarence was about to admit.
“I’ve been living on the down-low for five years now. I used to come to church on Sunday mornings and dance and shout. Then I would spend Sunday night in the arms of another man,” Clarence confessed.
Everything went silent, including the crickets. Men were able to understand and relate to a lot of things: drugs, alcohol, abuse, pornography, and adultery, among other things. Homosexuality was the one thing that a lot of straight men could not wrap their heads around. If Quincy were to conduct a survey at this Retreat of fantasy threesomes, he would get a whole bunch of participants. The hypocrisy lay in what was acceptable to the softer gender and what was unacceptable for men.
“I didn’t want to come here. I swear to you I didn’t, but I missed being in His presence.” Clarence started to choke on his words. “Despite the fact that most of you will look at me differently, I missed being around you guys. I want to be able to come to church and not feel guilty. I believe I can overcome this, but I need God and my brother’s help to do so.”
It was rare to find someone who was gay and wanted to choose against what seemed like his human nature. Pastor Dawkins proved why he was so celebrated as a pastor. He walked up and gave Clarence a hug as Clarence sobbed onto the pastor’s shirt.
“It’s going to be okay. You can’t run far enough to get away from God’s loving arms,” Chauncey remarked.
Clarence received claps as he returned to his chair. Will was the next to get up.
“Um, I wasn’t sure about coming here, and, to tell the truth, I hadn’t really given God that much thought before this weekend. I mean, where I’m from we see the devil more at work than anything else.
“The one thing I can say about this weekend is that for once in my life, I got a chance to be at peace. But if I don’t see you guys again, I just wanted to tell you thanks for showing me love. I’m so used to seeing life one way, and you guys have turned me on to another way I can live my life.”
Will gracefully sat down as another brother got up and gave a detailed account of his addiction to Internet pornography. After that Jamal stood up.
“Praise the Lord. It’s good to be in the house of the Lord, especially with my brothers.” Jamal paused to allow the praises to cease.
“I came here thinking that I needed to hear a word from God regarding my job situation. I realize that I needed to confront my past.” Jamal locked eyes with Will. “It wasn’t until I met you this weekend that I realized that.” Jamal took a step toward Will. “You remind me of my best friend, who died. This whole time I’ve felt guilty for his death and I realize that I have to let it go. I’ve allowed pride to stop me from being forgiven.”
Jamal could not even say anymore. Quincy imagined that he was so overwhelmed with grief that he could not bear to say another word.
Minister Jacobs got up with tears in his eyes, unable to clearly get his words out. “I’m sorry, brothers, I can’t just sit here and act like everything is okay. I’m a hypocrite. A backslider. How can I sit and tell y’all how to live your lives when I can’t even live up to the standard myself?” Minister Jacobs wiped his face dry.
Quincy leaned forward with his hands folded on top of each other, and concentrated on being able to catch every single word from Minister Jacobs. He, too, was a suspect, since Karen assisted Minister Jacobs with feeding the homeless.
“I have lust in my heart and I’ve allowed the desire to grow so strong that I slept with another man’s wife. I mean, I’m supposed to be an anointed man of God,” Minister Jacobs confessed.
It took Quincy a moment to realize what Minister Jacobs just said. Anointed man of God. A-MOG. “You son of a…” Quincy jumped up and threw his chair at Minster Jacobs before running toward him. The chair caught Minister Jacobs in his back after it bounced off the wall. Quincy wrapped his hands around Minister Jacobs’s shirt and tried to choke the life out of him.
Other men, despite their confusion, rushed to the aid of Minister Jacobs.
“You slept with my wife and had the nerve to talk about it without first coming to me like a man,” Quincy shouted.
“I’m sorry.” Minister Jacobs swallowed hard.
“Too late!” Quincy snapped back. Quincy was finally separated from him. “I filed for divorce. You better be glad God is forgiving, because I’m not!”
“She was miserable,” Minister Jacobs said.
“So was I, but I didn’t cheat.”
Quincy felt a hand on his shoulder that calmed him down. He saw that it was Pastor Dawkins. “We all need to settle down and calm ourselves.”
Everyone except Quincy calmed down. It was all out in the open. There were no more shadows in the lives of Quincy and Minister Jacobs. He sized up Minister Jacobs in an effort to understand what Karen could possibly see in him.
Yes, he was good-looking, but he carried with him a disposition of a guy fresh out of college with a mountain of student loan debt. That reason alone put Minister Jacobs out of Quincy’s league. Jacobs had to be in his mid-twenties, and, at forty-three, Quincy was not as physically fit as Minister Jacobs, but he had an obese bank account.
“I’m so sorry, Brother Page,” Minster Jacobs said through a veil of tears.
“I’m not interested in your apology. In so many ways I blame you.” Quincy pointed at Pastor Dawkins. “Women talk about you like you’re their pimp. My wife wa
s more loyal to one of your ministers than she was to me.” Quincy took a moment to catch his breath. “So let’s just get this out in the open right here, because after this weekend, I’m gone and y’all are not going to ever see me again.”
“This is the best place to deal with this issue. What do you want to know?” Pastor Dawkins asked calmly.
“I want to know why.” Quincy took a look at Pastor Dawkins. “And I want to know what you’re going to do about this situation.”
“Perhaps we can go somewhere and talk,” Minister Jacobs suggested.
“Aw naw,” Quincy said, shaking both his head and hands. “We’re going to settle this right here and now, because, to tell you the truth, I’m afraid that if we go somewhere to talk, then one of us is not going to come back.”
Pastor Dawkins outstretched his hands to signal to both Quincy and Minister Jacobs to settle down. Quincy sat down, not out of respect to Pastor Dawkins and his position, but because his adrenaline had come down and he was starting to feel lightheaded.
Pastor Dawkins continued. “Let’s allow both the Holy Spirit and cooler heads to prevail. Now, Brother Page, you have every right to be upset. And, Minister Jacobs, you are responsible to tell Brother Page what’s going on. I don’t think that I have to remind all of you that we are covered with a vow of confidentiality. We’re not like little school kids who run around here gossiping and carrying on. We are men, and a man can look to his brother and tell him what’s going on.”
“How can you let someone like him minister from the pulpit?” Quincy pointed toward Minister Jacobs.
“I’m in no way excusing his actions, but he is human. He could be the greatest human being walking the earth and still be susceptible to folly,” Pastor Dawkins reasoned. “That’s why we need grace and mercy to live in this fallen world.”
Pastor Dawkins took a moment to clear his throat. “Furthermore, you know that I preach against the sisters of the church having unhealthy relationships with their pastors. I’ve seen too many scandals unfold and I refuse to be a part of it. You are the head of your household and no man should come before you.” Pastor Dawkins locked eyes with Quincy.
“Reverend Pimp Daddy must’ve been asleep when you taught ethics in ministry class,” Quincy replied.
“You’re hurt, and as a man you’re taught that to show emotions is to show weakness, but it’s okay. You have the right to feel hurt and betrayed. What happened should not have happened, but it did and I’m sorry. But don’t let what happened to you cause you to give up on God and the purpose He has for you.”
What purpose could God have for Quincy? The weight of the whole situation collapsed onto his shoulders. Quincy’s knees buckled and he fell to the ground. Tears followed without restraint. Quincy did not know why he was crying. Maybe he was embarrassed; maybe he was sad that his and Karen’s marriage was on the verge of divorce; maybe he realized that he still did love Karen.
Only a man in love would risk his entire existence to destroy another man for the sake of regaining his lost honor and his love. God was suppose to be resolving matters, but all Quincy felt was more confusion then before.
Chapter Twenty-five
Jamal did not know what to think after that Circle of Power. It seemed more like something out of The Jerry Springer Show than a Christian retreat. With each passing moment, Jamal’s reason for being here became more unclear. This weekend was not bringing him closer to a higher truth. There were no revelations that he could take back to his life and declare victory. He could have spent the weekend with Jamir and Chantel.
“Brother Bryant?”
Jamal turned around and saw Pastor Dawkins emerge from the shadows. As always, Pastor Dawkins was in the company of two men.
“Good evening, Pastor,” Jamal greeted him.
“I would say that this has been an eventful weekend so far.” Pastor Dawkins let out a smile.
“I guess.” Jamal did not see anything amusing about the situation.
“Are you okay? You seem weighed down.”
“Honestly, Pastor, I can’t lie. I am, and I’m not sure why I’m even here.”
Pastor Dawkins signaled for his armor bearers to leave. “Let’s go have a talk in my room, shall we?”
Pastor Dawkins led Jamal down a trail that led to his room. Upon opening the door, he found that the room was filled with up-tempo jazz music that had been left playing on a radio.
“Go ahead and have a seat.” Pastor Dawkins pointed toward a coffee table with a stack of books. After Jamal sat down, Pastor Dawkins walked over to his nightstand and grabbed a bag of trail mix. “Would you like some?”
“No, thank you, Pastor.”
After Pastor devoured a handful of trail mix, he sat down on the edge of his bed. He took off his glasses and placed them behind him. “So you’re wondering what are you doing here?”
“I came here with such high expectations, and I can’t help but wonder if I am wasting my time. I need God right now to show me the way; otherwise, I’m going to be lost.”
Pastor Dawkins rubbed his head. “I know. After tonight, I wonder if we are doing enough. Is a Super Bowl fellowship and a prayer breakfast enough? Can one weekend out of the year make a lasting change in the life of a man?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know, Pastor,” Jamal stated.
“In any case, we have to press on. And with good men like yourself, we can build a strong ministry.”
“I’m not good. I slept with my best friend’s girl, and, up until this week, I thought that her child was mine.”
“Wow, that truly is what I call ‘strama’: stress induced by drama!”
The laughter from both Jamal and Pastor Dawkins eased the tension.
“Tell me about it. I’m waiting for Maury Povich to show up,” Jamal said.
“Well, Jamal, you got caught up in the same set of circumstances a lot of men your age find themselves in. You were too busy thinking with your manhood and not your head. So, I take it that you and your best friend are no longer on speaking terms.”
“Something like that; he was murdered the night I told him about me and her.”
Jamal had always admired his pastor for his quick wit and ability to handle some of the most jaw-dropping circumstances with panache, but not even he could handle with ease Jamal’s revelations about his fallen comrade.
“Wow, so you’ve been guilt ridden this entire time?”
Jamal’s mind raced back to that night at the club. Maybe, just maybe, if he would have waited to tell Clay, maybe his friend would still be here. Maybe they would have reconciled.
“I mean, I’ve got a chance to advance my career. To make some real money and set up a better life for myself, but I wonder if I should sacrifice all of that for a kid who’s not even my responsibility.”
“Biologically that child may not be yours, but he is your responsibility. He’s my responsibility as well. His life will be shaped and molded by the people he encounters. If his only examples of men in his life are a father who was killed in a senseless violent act, and his father’s best friend who up and disappeared, then what does that tell him about being a man?”
Pastor Dawkins’s words were as heavy as an anvil. Pastor Dawkins leveled Jamal with his moral imperative. “I think that’s what the problem is in our community. We have forgotten that our success is intertwined and God will not bless you with a great job just for the sole benefit of you, but for the benefit of the community.”
“I’ve always been taught that a man takes care of his own.”
“If you look at the Bible, there is a stark contrast between how the world defines a man and how God defines man. I would put my money on God’s definition, since God declares that He knew you before you were even formed in your mother’s womb.”
Pastor’s words lit a fire inside of Jamal. He knew that he had to be responsible and do what was right from God’s standpoint.
“Listen, I would love to continue this conversation, but I have a hair app
ointment.” Pastor Dawkins brushed his hair with his hand.
“Thanks, Pastor.” Jamal left the room and found a reason to go and rescue his prayer partner.
After the explosive Circle of Power, Chauncey decided to go for a stroll. He skipped dinner and walked toward the beach. He thought about brother Edwards, and he wished that his brother Henry had been there to hear his testimony. He loved his brother and felt that tough love was a requisite for change, but even Chauncey could not continue to be callous toward Henry. Chauncey pulled out his phone and decided to check his messages.
Chauncey, why aren’t you answering your phone? I’m here at the hospital and the doctors wanted me to alert any family members to come and visit him. Henry’s not in good shape and I just wanted to let you know before it was too late.
It seemed automatic for Chauncey to delete not only this message from his sister, but the several subsequent messages that followed from her. He was in the midst of a revival.
Pastor Hughes would be preaching tonight and he did not want to miss a chance to hear him speak. He also wanted to have time to talk to Pastor Dawkins about his selection for the minster’s class. Chauncey did not feel like sacrificing anything for his brother at this juncture.
Besides, the doctors were often wrong, and chances were that Henry would still be alive on Sunday when Chauncey got back into town. Instead, Chauncey wanted to go by Pastor Dawkins’s room before the evening service. He looked forward to the meeting. To his surprise, Pastor Dawkins was not alone. Will was in the room, cutting Pastor Dawkins’s hair.
“Hello, Pastor.” Chauncey closed the door and absorbed the vanilla incense.
Will gave Chauncey a nod as he continued to cut Pastor Dawkins’s hair. Pastor Dawkins’s room was decked out in maroon drapes and bedspreads. Maroon just so happened to be Chauncey’s favorite color. Chauncey did not know whether Will should be present in this meeting.
