“Congratulations again,” King said, coming up to shake Nate’s hand. “You give any more thought to the presidency?”
“I talked it over with Destiny and we’ll have to pass this go round. Too much going on, man.”
“I figured as much.”
“Reverend Thicke!” Derrick said, as he joined King, Nate, and several other ministers preparing to enter the American Airlines arena. The two men exchanged a soul brother’s handshake as small talk continued among them. “That cruise your church is sponsoring sounds good,” Derrick said. “We might have to think about doing one.”
“It’s selling out, thanks to Dana and her ad placement. Plus, my media team created a two-minute infomercial. It’s going to play tonight.”
Shortly thereafter, the team of ministers, more than thirty of them, entered the buzz that was the arena. Some of them took their place on the podium, others went to the front rows, which had been designated for the clergy. The mood was festive as gospel artists of every genre set the stage for a glorious night of praise. As the offering was being lifted, various promotional pieces began to play.
First came a video about the convention marketplace, where tapes and DVDs of every service could be purchased. Next were videos promoting various ministries, including one of SOS.
“Oh, here’s the promo,” Nate said to Derrick, when he saw a picture of a cruise ship with the words “Gospel Truth’s Gospel Cruise” transposed over it. Both men turned to watch.
“The Gospel Truth Church invites you to sail the sea with the saints!” The announcer’s bass voice was crisp and convincing. “Join Reverend Nate Thicke and his wife Destiny as they—”
The sound stopped, and the picture of Nate and Destiny smiling at the camera was replaced with another—a clear shot of Nate and another woman, obviously in the throes of passion, and a panning of the camera down to his backside—and then the screen went blank.
“What the hell?” Derrick said, totally forgetting that for this week this arena was the house of the Lord.
“What? What?” King had momentarily turned away from the screen to talk to the minister behind him, and had missed the five seconds of ass flashing.
Unfortunately, thousands of convention-goers hadn’t. The arena went into an instant uproar, even as King raced to the microphone to try and restore order. He held the microphone and looked at the masses, his mind temporarily blank. They just saw Nate Thicke’s bare behind, humping a woman who is not his wife. What can I say to that?
Derrick joined him at the podium and took the microphone. “Saints, saints, please, I implore you to take your seats and calm down. Remember, we are still in a place of worship and God deserves to be respected.”
That may have been true, but nobody heard it. Some people were trying to wrap their minds around what they’d seen, others believed there was no way they could have seen what they’d seen, and the ones who hadn’t seen were trying to imagine what the image they missed looked like. It took a full ten minutes before Derrick was able to get a majority’s attention and speak to the crowd. In that time span, Nate, Destiny, and their entourage had been whisked through a side door and taken backstage.
“On behalf of the Total Truth Association, I sincerely apologize for what just happened. We are as shocked as you are, and I guarantee you we will get to the bottom of it. We must be doing something right, because this is definitely the work of the devil, and he only bothers people who are on the move for God!”
This comment brought some of the saints back around, while others were lost for the night. Mama Max’s husband and the night’s featured speaker, the Reverend Doctor Pastor Bishop Overseer Mister Stanley Obadiah Meshach Brook Jr. took the bull by the horns, promptly changing his message to fit the moment. When he told the still-confused congregation that the title of his message was “Get Behind Me, Satan,” the attendees were all ears. He preached his heart out, mixing humor with stern rebuke, cautioned the saints against gossip, and warned them to keep their minds stayed on Jesus.
Well, they may have kept their minds stayed on Christ but their mouths were stayed on Nate’s glistening backside caught on tape, and the mystery woman who was not Mrs. Thicke. It took less than two hours for the news to be all over the Internet, and by the next day, rumblings of an X-rated video by bestselling author Reverend Nathaniel Thicke were on the six o’clock news.
60
We Fall Down
The somber faces on those gathered around Nate’s conference room table were in stark contrast to the elated expressions these same men had worn the week before. The same men who’d clamored for a photograph with him could now barely meet his eye. Nate totally understood—he was still in shock himself.
The first half of the meeting had been filled with rants and raves about how disappointed the board was with him, how irresponsible he’d been, why his singular moment of thoughtlessness now jeopardized all they stood for, and exactly what they expected him to do about it.
“The good news, if there can be any,” Derrick offered, after the last minister had voiced his justified chagrin, “is that the fast-thinking of the technical director prevented this from being much, much worse. The tape was stopped so quickly that most people didn’t know what they were looking at until after the screen went blank. Then they wondered if they really saw what they thought they saw. Many folk talking right now didn’t actually see anything at all. The convention director immediately pulled that copy of the promotion, and Nate has not only fired his entire media staff, but had professionals check all other tapes in his possession. And I’m not exactly sure how he can be so certain, but he assures me that there remain no copies of this…incident…that can be recopied and sold for gain.”
A few of the men shifted in their seats, but no one responded to Derrick’s attempt at a silver lining.
King spoke into the silence, looking Nate in the eye. “We’re all in agreement that decisive action has to be taken, to send a message to you, the Total Truth membership, and the Christian community at large. As of this moment, your membership and that of Gospel Truth Church is suspended. Should you not follow our mandates fully and to the letter, it will be permanently revoked.
“You must resign immediately as senior pastor of Gospel Truth. There must be a formal, public apology, both to your members and to the nation. You and your wife must undergo at least one year of extensive counseling, after which you must perform one thousand hours of community service, for this association, preaching the importance of abstinence, the wages of sin, specifically fornication, and the sanctity of marriage.
“Furthermore, you must provide restitution for any and all expenses that may arise out of lawsuits, court proceedings, counterpromotions, restorative public relations, and/or any legal, executive, or practical action taken as a result of this unfortunate event. All decisions concerning this matter will be handled by the board, and our recommendations are not up for discussion or debate. They are final.”
King breathed a deep sigh. He loved Nate like a brother, and it hurt him to his heart to punish him, but it had to be done. “Nate, are there any questions?”
Nate stared straight ahead for a moment, and then stood. “I have no questions, but I do have something to say. I am not proud of my past actions, including the ones that led to this meeting. I didn’t always believe it, but my behavior was wrong, and after being counseled by two stellar soldiers for God, specifically Derrick Montgomery and King Brook, I changed my ways. It doesn’t change the outcome, but for the record, that tape was made, without my knowledge, before I married my wife, and during the one and only time I spent with…that other woman. But as God is my witness, Destiny Nicole Thicke is now and will forever be the only woman in my life.”
When the men around the table remained silent, Nate turned to Derrick, who was sitting to his left, and held out his hand. “I’m deeply sorry, my brother. I’ve sinned against God, and the church. Will you forgive me?” Derrick looked at King, then back at Nate, before for
egoing the handshake and instead rising to embrace his fallen brother. “I forgive you,” he said.
Nate went around the room and repeated this admission to each of the board members present. His words were heartfelt and sincere, and his genuine humility and regret were felt by everyone in the room. When he’d finally embraced the last minister, he turned, still standing, and faced the table. For the first time since the meeting began, all eyes were on him.
“I accept the full recommendation of this wise and just board. I hereby tender my resignation from all Total Truth committees, and on…” Nate’s voice broke and he stopped to regain his composure. “On Sunday I will tender my resignation as senior pastor of Gospel Truth. Regarding the other points outlined in your mandate, gentlemen…I will do all that you have asked.”
61
Remember Rahab
Melody sat in her car, staring at the house in front of her. Nate’s mother’s house, and her last possible chance at redemption. She’d been almost inconsolable since hearing what had happened, and since Destiny had refused her phone calls and once again had her number changed. Not that Melody blamed her. She didn’t have to imagine the embarrassment and shame Nate and Destiny felt for what had happened—she felt it too. Even without knowing exactly what had been seen at the convention, and hearing that the tape had run only a few seconds before being stopped, she still felt incredibly guilty. None of this would have happened, if not for her.
Melody looked around and slouched even lower in her car. She was wearing a hastily assembled disguise—a wig and sunglasses—because she didn’t want to chance being seen, especially in Palestine. She was practically in hiding after being accused of ruining Nate’s ministry and receiving anonymous death threats. She wasn’t sure who the calls were from, but because of the underground tape from her previous high profile tryst, more than a few people knew who she was. Over twenty-thousand people had been in the arena. The calls could be from anyone, anywhere.
A tear rolled down Melody’s face as she remembered the hurt on her mother’s face when she admitted to seeing her own daughter on tape. Now, Melody sat near the door of another mother who, because of her, had witnessed her son in a similar position. There was no way, Melody thought, she could imagine how his mother was feeling. But she couldn’t leave Texas, couldn’t go back to California without letting Mrs. Thicke know how sorry she was. With resolve, Melody placed her hand on the door handle and opened it. She walked up to the house as fast as she could, not giving herself a chance to turn back.
“Mrs. Thicke?” she asked, when a slightly plump woman with a troubled face opened the front door.
“Who’s asking?” she said directly, but not unkindly.
“My name is Melody and I really need to talk to you. I—I am the woman in…in that tape,” Melody finished in a whisper. “I’m sorry,” she continued, tears streaming down her face. “I didn’t mean for nobody to ever see what I did. Mrs. Thicke…” Melody couldn’t continue for sobbing, and almost crumbled at Nettie’s knees.
Nettie reached down and grabbed her hand, almost having to drag a petrified and limp Melody across her door jamb. There were many emotions warring for dominance in Nettie’s heart, and she was battling back to allow those of compassion and forgiveness instead of anger and resentment to lead the way. Thankfully, she wasn’t totally unprepared. The Lord had spoke to her during her prayer time and had said simply, “Remember Rahab.” Nettie hadn’t understood this cryptic message…until now.
Nettie led a still-sobbing Melody to her new, floral couch—ironically part of the new living room suite gift from Nate and Destiny—and gently guided her to sit down. She walked over to the coffee table and a box of tissue, pulled one out and put it in Melody’s hand, and placed the box on the couch beside her. Still not speaking, Nettie went into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. Unconsciously, she began humming “Just a Closer Walk with Thee,” and by the time the coffee had finished percolating and she’d fixed a tray with an urn, cream, sugar, and two cups, she was ready to talk to the woman who’d helped ruin her son’s life.
“You say your name is Melody?” she asked, after she’d placed the coffee tray on the sofa table behind them and taken a seat on the opposite end of the couch.
Melody kept her head down, but nodded.
“Well, you can call me Miss Nettie or Mrs. Johnson. I’m remarried from Nate’s father.”
When Melody didn’t respond, Nettie walked back around to the sofa table. “You take cream and sugar?”
“No, ma’am. I can’t accept anything from you….”
“You must not be from around here. Child, I’m southern. It would be sacrilegious to come into my home and I not offer you something. You look like a cream and sugar girl, am I right?”
Melody nodded, and a few more moments were taken up with Nettie fixing their cups. Once she’d handed Melody hers and sat back down, she took a sip, and then asked simply, “Why did you do it, Melody? Why did you make that tape of you and my son?”
Through a barrage of tears, Melody started at the beginning, with the first tape, admitting how watching herself have sex on tape had become somewhat of an addiction. “I was only with Nate one time,” she concluded. “And I never, ever meant for the video to get out.”
Nettie digested Melody’s story for a moment. “Then how do you suppose it got out, if you didn’t intend it?” she softly asked.
“Kirk,” was Melody’s equally soft response.
“Our Kirk? The minister from Gospel Truth?”
Melody nodded and took a tentative sip of the coffee Nettie had prepared. She then told her about the one time she’d showed a part of the tape to Kirk, because he didn’t believe that she’d slept with his pastor. She didn’t tell Nettie what Dana had recently heard through the grapevine, that Kirk’s house had been ransacked, all of his videos seized and all of his electronic equipment destroyed. “He deserves whatever he gets,” had been Melody’s response when Dana told her. And then Dana had told her something else. She was fired.
“Kirk was mad at Nate, Reverend Thicke, for letting him go without severance pay. But this isn’t Kirk’s fault, Miss Nettie. It’s mine. If I had never shown him the tape, none of this would have happened.” She started crying all over again, hurting more than she ever thought she would, feeling sorrier than she ever thought she could.
Miss Nettie sat down her cup and moved next to Melody. “It’s going to be all right,” she said, taking the young woman in her arms and rocking her like a baby. “Everything works for good to those who love the Lord and are called unto His purpose.”
Melody cried harder, wrapping her arms tightly around Miss Nettie. Melody had no doubt her own mother loved her, but Bernadette Anderson wasn’t a particularly demonstrative or affectionate woman. Miss Nettie’s was the type of absolute acceptance that had been missing from her life. Melody couldn’t remember the last time she’d been hugged this way—the way a person who looked past your faults and saw your needs hugged, the way amazing grace hugged, the way unconditional love hugged.
The two women stayed this way a long time. As Nettie comforted Melody she thought back to God’s whisper, and Rahab’s story. How the prostitute hid the two spies whom Joshua had sent to survey the land, and that through her act of kindness, she saved her whole family. What God was telling her, Nettie believed, is that God could use anybody…even a prostitute.
Finally, Melody pulled back, wiped her tears and blew her nose. “What can I do, Miss Nettie? Destiny won’t talk to me and I’m sure Nate won’t either. But I want to let them know I’m sorry. And I want to make up for the pain I’ve caused. Do you think that’s possible? Do you think there is any way I can right this terrible wrong?”
“You can live your life for Jesus,” Nettie said simply.
“But, Miss Nettie, I don’t know how to do that.”
“That’s all right, child. God will help you,” Nettie responded. “And so will I.”
62
God Don’t
Like Ugly
“Girl…can you believe everything that’s happened?” Anne had barely made it through Verniece’s door when she began to speak.
“Well, you know what they say,” Verniece said, walking back to the couch and flopping down on it. “God don’t like ugly.”
“Ooh, Verniece, you know that’s wrong. I don’t care if you’ve left the church. He’s still a man of God.”
“Whatever. He stopped covering his flock, which by his own words was a part of his responsibility. I begged him not to stop servicing a sistah. He refused. And look what happened. He stopped fucking me and he got fucked.”
Anne stopped on her way to the couch. “Verniece, if you don’t stop talking like that I’m going to leave your house. I will not be here when your disrespectful butt gets struck by lightning.”
“All right, girl, you’re right,” Verneice said as Anne sat down beside her. “I do feel sorry for Reverend, to be truthful. He is anointed. One can’t lie about that. And now he’s been stripped of his church, his title, everything. It’s a shame.”
The two women tended their own thoughts a moment. And then Anne spoke again. “And what about Patricia? I told you she left, right?”
“Unh-unh.”
“Yeah, girl. She and Katherine got into a little fisticuff—”
“Not fisticuff—”
“Fist-i-cuff, sistah—”
Verniece whooped and sat straight up. “When? Where?”
“Last Sunday, after church. A whole bunch of people saw it. They say Ms. Refined and Reserved Katherine Noble kicked Patricia Cook’s ass!”
“Stop—it. Girl, you know you lying!”
“Hmph. I’m telling the gospel truth and yes the pun is intended. One hostess’s mother said Patricia gave her notice at the church the next day, said she was moving to Dallas to join the Potter’s House.”
“Dang, she has to be put back together again, like Humpty Dumpty? Katherine must have pulled out a big can of whoop ass.”
Reverend Feelgood Page 25
