Short Stories

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© Joseph Perrello (Josprel)
[email protected]

An excerpt from Josprel's upcoming novel, "Beloved Apostate."


The Courage to be Faithful

Carlos' son, Robert L. Xavier, was in a quandary. After his elevation to archbishop, hoping to solidify his position, his first official act was to convene a meeting of the 648 churches and 783 ministers he supposed were under his jurisdiction. Only the Fresh Wine churches and ministers responded. Then, the hemorrhage began. And, when it quenched, the Latin Diocese of The Alliance of Christian Churches lost 592 churches, totaling some 325,000 members and 679 ministers, all opposed to the Fresh Wine Movement.

Howling in protest, Robert and the ACC threatened court action, but it was all bluff. Nothing could be done. By legal necessity, the Congregational polity of the old FCA was binding on the new ACC. Each congregation was sovereign in its local affairs. Each was the sole owner of its church property. Moreover, a two-thirds vote of the membership could sever all ties to the parent body. These congregations had spoken. They wanted out of the ACC, and their word was final.

Robert Xavier felt cheated. Blaming his father for the split, he seemed blind to his Absalom role, the darkness that afflicts most who grasp to take what others have achieved through sweat, labor, sacrifice, and quite often, tears.

Despite his son's accusations, however, the only part Carlos played in the walkout was that of example. After his return from Pasadena, he resigned from the ACC. Then, submitting a letter of resignation to his church board, he explained that he did not wish to hinder the congregation from remaining in the new organization, if it so chose. Even so, by unanimous decision, the board refused his resignation and, with an overwhelming vote of confidence, the 18,724 members of Templo Calvario chose to retain Carlos as their pastor. As the first Latin American church in the district to severe its ties to the ACC, without intending it, Templo Calvario and its pastor became the rallying point of other Latin churches that followed their example.

Carlos became a magnet for "old wineskin" discontent. Willingly, if not joyously, he assumed the leadership role the separating churches thrust upon him. The separating non-Latin churches looked to Paul for similar leadership, but remaining silent, he offered no encouragement.

Urged by Carlos to do so, he pled his age as an excuse. Moreover, though he had administrative experience as both a seminary president and the pastor of a large church, he claimed to have no desire to assume the responsibilities of birthing a new denomination.

In addition to the Latin churches already withdrawn from the ACC, slightly less than 800 other churches across the country were clamoring for Paul and Carlos to bind them together. The number was discouraging when compared to the more than 50,000 churches that now comprised the ACC. Nonetheless, it was Paul claim that an ability greater than his was necessary to mold even that relatively small percentage into a cohesive body.

Carlos waved off his friend's pleas. Waggling a forefinger, he bluntly stated, "Lame excuses, my brother. Only lame excuses. You're much better qualified than I can ever be to lead these churches. I tell you bluntly that the true reason you won't accept this responsibility is concern for your reputation. You don't want to be involved in a split."

In the few weeks since that insightful reprimand, Paul stayed to himself, refusing even to take calls from Carlos. He knew there was truth in the charge his friend had made. He was concerned for his reputation. He didn't want to conclude his ministry on the low note of a schismatic, but there was more. Unlike Carlos, who had plotted his course even before going to Pasadena, Paul was in the process of still charting his. And, while Carlos had been reasonably sure Templo Calvario would reject his resignation, the ACC threatened Paul with the loss of his retirement benefits if he resigned. Nevertheless, the threat was a toothless one and a close attorney friend recently resolved the retirement issue. Not only had Paul rendered unblemished service to the old FCA, the court presiding over the mergers also vested the retirement funds of the merging denominations in their beneficiaries. Paul's attorney discovered the ACC had no authority to discontinue the retirement of any vested minister, reason notwithstanding, without violating the merger articles. He put the ACC on notice that further threats against his client would force him to seek redress from the courts and the threats instantly ceased.

That still left Paul with the problem of being labeled a schismatic, if he assisted in forming a new denomination. Naomi was all for withdrawing from the ACC and exploring the possibility of creating what she called, the "Evangelical Alliance of Christian Assemblies." She often reminded Paul of his statement on the convention floor, that those choosing to remain in the Fresh Wine Movement had abandoned the ancient landmark.

"Paul, now we have no excuse for staying in the ACC," she reminded him, after they learned that Paul's retirement was safe. "They're the divisive ones, not us. We are what we always have been, just as you said at the convention. We should separate from the apostasy."

Shortly, thereafter, Darnel had called to apologize. Then, last night, news of the attempt on their son's life devastated the couple. Their phone was incessant with calls, especially from the media. Together, they spent the night praying and monitoring TV reports, until early morning, when Darnel called. Relieved to learn he was unharmed, they now were at the kitchen table, where Paul quaffed down his navy antidote for long nights spent without sleep - thick, black, unsweetened coffee.

"Naomi, I know this is going to sound foolish, but this thing has made up my mind, but I can't explain how it happened. I'm leaving the ACC. I'm sending a registered letter, this morning."

Naomi was about to respond, but Paul's uplifted palm prevented her. "Please, don't ask me to explain. I don't understand it, myself. All I can say is, if I remain in the ACC, I will compromise myself. My conscience is worth more to me than my reputation. I'm going to work with Carlos to form that new denomination."

A faint smile played on Naomi's weary face. "You know I'm with you, darling, just as I've always been. Maybe I understand what happened. I'm inclined to think Darnel would view our remaining in the ACC as duplicitous, as our tacit approval of the ACC's goals. Our staying would send a message to Darnel that we are paying mere lip service to our convictions, but are unwilling to make the sacrifice required by them."

Paul nodded, thoughtfully. "You may be right, but something else bothers me. Darnel has tremendous public support and the fact that someone tried to kill him could spell problems for those leaving the ACC. The media already made Carlos a villain for opposing him. I've escaped till now because I'm Darnel's father and still in the ACC. After we leave, that might change. In addition to Darnel's safety, my concern is that those opposing the ACC might be suspected of hiring the gunman."

Naomi sighed and remained silent. For several minutes, Paul concentrated on the blackness of his coffee. Then, he too heaved a sigh, and concluded, "But we must leave the ACC. I'll draw up my letter of resignation."

With that, he drained his cup and entered his study.

***** *****

During her teen years, because the modest row-homes where she lived were brick red, Lela had dubbed her street, "The Red Sea." The term no longer applied. Most of the homes had undergone face-lifts and the street no longer blushed. Media types were besieging the brownstone facade directly opposite Templio Calvario. Since last night, when the first reports of the attempted assassination of Darnel flashed nationwide, Lela and her parents were on the receiving end of incessant demands for interviews. They were harassed by the constant summons of the phone and doorbell. Carlos muffled the doorbell and, following Darnel's dawn call, the answering machine was set to respond on the first ring.

It wasn't enough to restore quiet.

The voices of the camera grinders and their reporters, along with the rumpus created by the surrounding mob of spectators, melded with the vehicle noises to create a low roar that invaded the house. And, when the rudely aggressive punched its button now, the doorbell hummed in long spurts. Furthermore, because the downright obnoxious rapped at the windows, poking their lenses against the panes, the blinds were drawn.

Carlos scanned through the answering machine: reporters begging for interviews, crank calls, a frightening threat to bomb Templio Calvario, one to kill him, a weirdo blaming him for the attempt on Darnel's life, anxious calls from church members, concerned messages from his family.

And then Paul's voice surprised him, "Hello, Brother Carl, Paul Ladner here. I trust you're safe. Please call me at your first opportunity. I want you to know I've just mailed my resignation to the ACC. I'm ready to work with you on forming the new organization. Thanks for being so patient and candid with me."

The message uplifted Carlos' flagging spirit. His friend had not abandoned him and their cause. The outside din receded into insignificance. The former bishop's eyes watered. Lack of sleep, he rationalized, hurrying to his study to return the call.

To read more stories and articles by Josprel, log on to:

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josprel@localnet,com

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