Reverend Feelgood

by Lutishia Lovely

  “So I’m right. This book is about megachurches and mega-pastors?”

  “Sister Stevens, the title will say it all. This book is going to be about pulpit pimps.”

  51

  A Higher Standard

  Verniece made a sound of disgust as the movie credits began to roll on the theater’s large screen. “That was just okay,” she said to Anne. “If it wasn’t for the fact that Derek Luke was in it, I’d demand my money back.”

  “He does look pretty good,” Anne agreed.

  “Pretty good? Girl, please. If that fine box of chocolate wasn’t too young and already married, I’d move to California just to try and connect.”

  “Ha! Well, good luck. You’d be joining the millions of others who’ve moved there with that same intention, trying to date a celebrity.”

  The women continued talking about the movie, what they liked and especially what they didn’t, all the way to Anne’s car. Once they’d reached it and got inside, she changed the subject. “You want to go get something to eat?”

  “I will but I shouldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Haven’t you noticed me gaining weight? Ever since I stopped feasting on that Thicke meat, seems like I keep on eating but can’t get full.”

  “You need to come back to church, Verniece,” Anne said.

  “Why? So I can sit there and think about how much I can’t stand that ho he married? Just seeing her makes me sick, looking all beautiful and acting all perfect, after her butt’s been screwing the man on the regular, got pregnant, and then took care of Nate’s baby on the down low…behind all our backs? And I’m supposed to stay at that church and watch Reverend Thicke in the pulpit like what he did was all right? That shit is scandalous, Anne, and you know it. If he was so serious about wanting forgiveness, why didn’t he ask for it back then, when the girl was pregnant? Why did he hide them, wait until their relationship was too legit to quit, and then lay his sins down on the altar? I, for one, didn’t believe the ‘forgive me, I was wrong’ hype. And I’m not alone.”

  “But like King Brook said, Verniece, if God can forgive him, maybe we should too.”

  “I’m not forgiving him. And I’m not going back to Gospel Truth.”

  “I know what you’re really mad about. You’re mad because Reverend won’t cover us anymore. You need to just find somebody else and get your release. ’Cause that’s what’s got you all frustrated.”

  “Well, that Nate is no longer hittin’ the honey pot definitely does not help matters. I can’t lie about that.”

  “But he’s a minister, Anne. He’s supposed to be held to a higher standard than us regular Christians. And you know good and well if some regular church folk pulled the same crap that Reverend and his hoity-toity wife just pulled, they’d be given the left foot of fellowship right out the church. It’s just like that one minister was saying the other day. It’s time to get the pimps out the pulpit.”

  “Who was saying that?” Anne asked.

  “Reverend Ed Smith, out of Baton Rouge.”

  “Reverend Smith is the last preacher you should be listening to,” Anne countered.

  “Why? What do you know about Reverend Smith?”

  “More than I care to share, trust me.”

  “Dang, sounds like all of these preachers are jacked up.”

  “A good number are,” Anne said after a pause. “But I believe there are true men and women of God out there too, ones who are living the word they preach about on Sunday.”

  “Oh, really? Then where are they at?”

  Anne thought about an answer for a moment. “You tell me and then we’ll both know.”

  52

  Direct and Protect

  Lifting the phone from her cheek, Nettie wiped away tears as she relayed the events of a few Sundays ago, when Nate’s secret was revealed, and her grandson was introduced to the congregation. “I didn’t realize what a burden carrying that secret had been,” she admitted. “I guess since the child was in Baton Rouge and not here, it was easier to ignore the situation. There’s fallout for sure, and we’ve lost members. But overall, it looks like Gospel Truth will weather this storm.

  “But I am so proud of Nathaniel, Mama Max. It’s almost a miracle how he’s transformed his life. You know the history of the Thicke men, and for the first time since I’ve known the history of it…one of them is remaining faithful to his wife, has become a one-woman man. I’ve always known the power of prayer, but God has really showed out this time, praise His holy name!”

  “Oh, He’s worthy!” Mama Max said in agreement, wiping tears from her eyes as well. “It ain’t easy being a man of God. The weight of the world is on their shoulders sometimes. People always talking bad about preachers, but they don’t know the half of what they deal with, of what it’s like to be called. I married one and birthed another—”

  “Same here—”

  “And I can tell you from experience that these men, whatever their faults, are carrying out the will of God the best that they know how.”

  “Well, just look at the Word, Mama Max. Some of those men did terrible things, at least how we look at it, and their names are sho ’nuff written in the lamb’s book of life. David and all the men he killed and the women he slept with, Saul killing his thousands, Samson and all the folks he slew, kings ordering the killing of children, fathers sleeping with daughters, Peter denying Christ and then cutting off a man’s ear in anger…. I could go on and on. And these are our examples! These are men whose stories made it into the Good Book. Folks these days too quick to cut a preacher down and toss him out. But those folks couldn’t begin to bear the burden of the saints.

  “The minute a preacher shows he’s human, we want to crucify him. But what about all the other times, when they are living the Word, doing what they’re supposed to? What about the millions of preachers who are living by their Christian conviction and standing on their principles? Where are the articles about them? Who’s shining the spotlight on those living right for God?”

  Nettie was silent, and in a rare moment of affectionate reflection, missed her first husband, Daniel. For all his faults, he was a good man. Nettie had seen of him what few others saw: the tears he shed, the pacing he did in the middle of the night, trying to figure out how to minister to the flock in a way that would best benefit them. They hadn’t seen how he was with his children, especially his son. And they hadn’t seen how he had loved Nettie, stayed with her, even when she didn’t share his passion for physical intimacy, even as he fell deeply in love with another woman who did.

  “Nettie, you all right?”

  “Fine, Mama, just letting my mind roll back.”

  “Just as long as you don’t do that too often. Like that old baseball player Satchel Paige used to say: ‘Don’t look back. Something might be gaining on ya!’” Mama Max whooped. “So what’s next for y’all? I guess it’s the anniversary and then Nate’s big night at the Total Truth Conference.”

  “Yes, and we’re celebrating this one in the new sanctuary, praise the name of Jesus.”

  “Lord, y’all been busy down there in Texas. I don’t see how Nate does all the things he does.”

  “James is the one responsible for the building coming in on time and on budget. That man is a blessing to the ministry, for sure.”

  “Deacon Robinson?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Wonder why that man ain’t never been married.”

  “Hear him tell it, ain’t never been tempted!”

  “Mercy, Lord.” The two women chuckled. “But he’s a powerful man of God,” Nettie continued. “If he ever does marry, she’ll be blessed.”

  The women continued their conversation, about Nettie’s husband, Gordon, and his recent talks of retiring, Mama Max’s husband, the Reverend Doctor Pastor Bishop Overseer Mister Stanley Obadiah Meshach Brook Jr., and his talks of coming out of retirement and preaching again, their minister sons and managing daughters. Mama Max vowed that she and the rever
end doctor would be at Nate’s anniversary next month, and Nettie vowed she’d be there two, and twenty pounds lighter if the good Lord helped her. As often was the case, the two ladies ended the call in prayer.

  “Father God,” Mama Max said, “once again we thank you for this time of fellowship. We thank you for our health and strength, and for your goodness and mercy, Lord. And we ask you, Lord Jesus, to look after our sons, and all men and women of God who are on the battlefield. Direct them, Lord. Protect them, Jesus. Amen.”

  53

  Naming Names

  Jennifer and Ed Smith sat in the den of Ed’s stately home. For all his talk about money-hungry preachers, Jennifer had noted the reverend wasn’t living too badly himself. His was a southern style home, with large columns out front, black shutters against stark white exterior paint, chandeliers in most of the rooms, and perfectly finished maple floors. Here in the den, they sat in rich leather chairs, burgundy, and drank coffee from fine bone china. A cleaning woman kept Ed’s house immaculate. It had been clear to Jennifer from her first visit to his home that Ed Smith didn’t think all money was bad, especially the money that could provide this lifestyle.

  “I like how the book is coming along, but I think we ought to name names,” Ed said. He was pacing the floor with excitement. “Especially since you have proof that the man was committing a crime. Now, we’ll have to double check, but I think Nate broke the law when he slept with the girl who’s now his wife. You say she had the baby at seventeen?”

  Jennifer nodded. “I’m pretty sure….”

  “Then he had to have been with her when she was sixteen. And they may have gotten together when she was even younger.” Ed Smith clapped his hands with relish. “Exposing this won’t just make my book a best seller, it will finally knock that bastard off his high horse.”

  “And it could also lead to a lawsuit, Ed. We have to be careful.”

  In the two months since starting to work for Ed Smith, Jennifer’s priorities had shifted. Leaving Nate’s ministry had been extremely painful, but she’d learned a lot—such as what she did and did not want. She wanted a man, but she didn’t want to share him. She wanted to be a part of a high-profile ministry, but she didn’t want to just be an employee. She’d also learned that making snap judgments could be costly, such as the one she’d made about James Robinson. She could have been living in the lap of luxury right now, the way she imagined Patricia was doing, but she’d dismissed him as a “dirty old man.” Jennifer was determined not to make the same mistake twice, so when Reverend Smith, who was a widower, asked her out to dinner after their second meeting, she’d said yes without hesitation. And that dinner is where her transformation had begun in earnest.

  She hadn’t meant to tell Ed about her and Nate’s sexual liaison. But he had a way of coaxing out information, showing genuine concern for her and her feelings. He could tell there was more to the story involving her dismissal from Gospel Truth. And before the night was over, she’d told all.

  “Men like him prey on women like you,” Ed had said softly. He took her hand in his and continued. “They take and take and never give. Look at him. You made him who he is with that bestselling book. And as soon as he didn’t need you anymore, what did he do? Kicked you to the curb, as the young folk say. And believe me, Jennifer. You’re not the only one. Look what he did to that poor girl—stole her innocence, saddled her with a child, and then, when it was convenient for him, went and married her so he’d look good. Soon as the time is right, he’ll drop her too and get another one. I know those Thicke men. Knew his daddy, Daniel. He carried on right under his wife’s nose. Most folks tried to act like they didn’t know, but I knew what was happening over there in Palestine. Had a cousin who went to the church for years. Men like him need to be uncovered, Jennifer.”

  Jennifer had almost flinched at his use of this word. “That’s what Nate said he was doing with me and the other women,” she said softly. “Covering us.”

  “He’s covering up, that’s what he’s doing. But you and I, working together, can pull off those sheets.”

  54

  No Replacement

  Patricia yawned loudly as she unlocked the door to her home. She was weary, not only because of the ten-hour day she’d just worked, but because of the continued uncertainty about her life. After a year and a half of working herself to the bone and even with her new job in the ministry, she was no closer to having a fulfilling personal life than when she’d worked at the post office. Deacon Robinson was rarely in the church office when she was there, and seemed in no hurry to establish a relationship. They’d attended the ball together and had coffee a couple times afterward, but that was it. And even though she knew he’d been swamped with the sanctuary’s completion, she couldn’t help but wonder if not only lack of time but lack of interest had kept them apart.

  On top of this dilemma, Patricia had been busy dealing with her daughter. Carmen had chosen the worst possible time to hang out with “those no good thugs” her mother always warned her about and had gotten herself arrested on drug and weapons charges. The attorney had assured Patricia that Carmen’s charges would more than likely get reduced, if not totally dismissed. She’d simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time, with a boy she’d gone to school with. But a zealous prosecutor was trying to tie her in as a knowing accomplice to drug dealing.

  Patricia walked to her daughter’s bedroom door and quietly opened it. Carmen was in bed, asleep. Patricia sighed, closed the door, and walked down the short hallway to her own bedroom.

  Where did I go wrong? she asked herself as she undressed. Granted, Carmen’s dad was rarely around and Patricia worked, perhaps too much, to be able to afford their home and those things her daughter wanted. Even with little time together, Patricia felt she and Carmen were reasonably close. It wasn’t until their conversation after the arrest that she truly became aware of how much distance there was between them.

  “I’m very disappointed in you, Carmen. Hanging around those hardheads, getting arrested. I raised you better than this. I’ve worked too hard—”

  “I said I was sorry, Mama. I don’t really want to hear this right now.”

  “I just spent three thousand dollars that I didn’t have bailing your ungrateful butt out of jail. You will sit there and listen to whatever I’ve got to say, do you hear me? This is what happens when you have no direction in life. You end up in places you shouldn’t be, doing things you shouldn’t do. I brought you those brochures on junior colleges. Have you looked at them?”

  “Mama, I don’t want to go to college.”

  “Why not, Carmen? You’re a bright girl!”

  Carmen had simply shrugged and kept text messaging.

  “Then what about that job fair I told you about? Did you go?”

  Carmen’s answer had been an exaggerated sigh, one that pushed Patricia precariously close to beating some sense into her daughter and risking possible arrest herself!

  “I’m not going to have you lay up here and not do anything to contribute to this household. You’ve got such potential, Carmen. Why are you not motivated to do anything concerning your future? Just look at your former classmate, Destiny. She got her degree in three years and—”

  “Don’t nobody want to hear about what Destiny’s got!” Carmen had interrupted. “You used to couldn’t stand Destiny or her grandmother, and now you’re throwing her degree in my face? Maybe because like those other women, you got some counseling from her husband, your pastor.”

  Patricia had slapped her then, hard, across the face. She had always been the epitome of discretion when it came to the few relationships she’d had since Carmen was born, had never introduced her dates or brought a man home. She knew Carmen’s comment was based on gossip the child had heard, but it still stung. As did the fact that while she’d given it every effort, she still longed for Nate. She missed him loving her, missed his tender caresses. Even though sometimes he’d only covered her once a month, he’d do it so well that
its memory alone took a sistah through the other twenty-nine, thirty days. But Nate had declared himself a changed man—no longer servicing the female flock.

  I’m thirty-seven years old, God. I don’t want to live the rest of my life alone. Patricia lay down, hoping that things would heat up between her and James Robinson. Except for him, it didn’t look as if there was a replacement for Nathaniel Eli Thicke’s affections anywhere in sight. Not that anyone could truly replace Reverend Thicke. No other man in the world could make a woman feel that good.

  55

  Two Former Friends

  Melody watched as the Sunday worshippers filed out of Gospel Truth’s beautiful, newly completed, three-thousand seat sanctuary. Even though she’d specifically come to try and talk to Destiny, she had really enjoyed the service. The ones conducted at Angel House were unexciting, the pastor’s drone perfect for putting people to sleep, which with Melody’s secretive Saturday cavorting, he’d done often. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed charismatic expression: the joyous hand clapping, rocking live band, colorful congregants, and excellent oratory delivered by a fine preacher.

  And Melody realized something else: she really missed Destiny. She had been a lifesaver at a time Melody had thought she’d die of boredom. From their mall meeting on, she and Destiny had been best buds of sorts, both in a town that wasn’t big enough to hold them. That’s why she’d finally talked Kirk into delivering a note to one of the head ushers he knew, who in turn was to deliver it to Destiny. She only hoped the message reached its target.

  Melody followed a security guard as he went around to the side of the massive new Gospel Truth sanctuary. Kirk had told her that Nate never exited from the front of the building; he’d get bum-rushed. So following her instincts, she made her way past the newly installed fountain, with water spewing forth from the mouth of a winged angel, and stood watching the door from which she hoped her friend would emerge.