Opposition

1/6/1996

Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me.Matthew 5:11

66

“GOOD MORNING. E.N.S. Pharmaceuticals! How may I help you?” The nasal voice was reminiscent of Hollywood’s operator stereotype.

“Steve Parker, please.”

“One moment.”

Phil Malone waited as elevator music controlled the moment. His pulse quickened.

“Research, this is Steve.”

“Hello, Steve…this is Phil Malone.”

Steve was silent. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, girding himself for whatever was next.

“The reason I called was to apologize…about yesterday. I was wondering if you could come by tomorrow afternoon so we can talk?”

Apologize! ? Steve was surprised. He breathed a prayer. Thank You, Master!

“Hello? Are you there?”

“Yeah…I’m here. Tomorrow would be fine.” He was reflexively guarded, but hopeful. The wound still stung. “I get off around five. I can be there by 5:30. Will that work?”

“Perfect. See you then.”

IT WAS THE KIND OF EVENING when the cool, soothing breeze seemed to carry in it the ambrosia of life. Tony breathed it in deeply as he walked from his car to the Davidson’s front door. He eagerly anticipated the chance for another glimpse into this strange, new world. While he didn’t understand everything George had said to him the other night, he knew he wanted to see more — though he wasn’t sure why.

“Hey, Tony! Come on in!” Wayne answered the door with a hearty smile. “I’m glad you could come.”

“Well, you said you needed some help polishin’ off some ice cream.” He shrugged. “Hey, what’re friends for? Right?”

Tony was greeted warmly by the same people he’d met at the barbecue.

“Wayne, do ya have parties like this all the time, or did ya need a lot of help wit’da ice cream?” Tony said as he gestured animatedly at everyone. Children scurried past him from the kitchen, each carefully balancing an ice cream cone as they raced into the backyard.

“Hi, Tony.” Carolyn emerged from the kitchen. “Do you want vanilla or butter pecan?”

“Do ya have any chocolate sauce?”

She smiled. “We sure do. And walnuts. And whipped cream.”

“Sounds great. Vanilla wit’ da works.”

She disappeared back into the kitchen as Tony took a seat. “Hey, George, I really appreciate that Bible you dropped off at my place.”

“Sure thing, Tony. I’m asking God to help you understand what He says in it.”

“Well, I think He must be, ‘cuz I feel like it makes a lot more sense to me now than it did when I was a kid.”

“Here you are.” Carolyn carefully placed a heaping bowl of ice cream in front of Tony. The whipped cream was swirled high above the lip of the bowl and it was topped with a long-stemmed maraschino cherry.

“Wow. Is this tag team or do I hafta eat this by myself?” He took the bowl and examined it from all sides until he found an entrance. Then he went to work.

Amy handed George and Ted bowls as they watched Tony skillfully devour his dessert.

“Looks like you’ve done that before,” Ted teased as he scooped his first spoonful.

“Yeah.” Tony looked up. The whipped cream on his nose was especially obvious against his dark complexion. “Like my fadda used to say, ‘If you’re gonna let your ice cream melt, ya might as well drink milk. It’s cheapa, see.’”

“Here.” Ted tossed a napkin into Tony’s lap. “‘Keep your nose clean’ is what my father always told me.” He laughed as Tony felt his nose, then wiped it with the napkin.

“Hey, at least I kept it off da furniture.”

All three men laughed as they turned back to finish scraping their bowls.

Wayne sat down beside them as Ted finished up.

Ted turned to Wayne. “I’ve got a situation at the school that I’m not sure what to do about and I wanted to ask you what you think.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Well, there’s another coach at school who claims to be a Christian. I’m with him a lot and there is a certain area in his life that, well, seems unlike Jesus. He’s a great guy in a lot of ways. He’d give you the shirt off his back.” Ted set his bowl on the coffee table. “But he tends to have a bad habit of complaining about his circumstances. Everything seems to be a rip-off to him. We buy some burgers at a restaurant and maybe they’re too cold or burned. Or the coffee’s too weak. Or the carpet he had installed last year isn’t the quality he had been led to believe it was. Things like that.”

Ted laid his spoon in the empty bowl. “I’ve mentioned it to him a couple of times and he just gets defensive. I want to help him, but I’m not sure how.”

Wayne swallowed another bite of ice cream. “Well, Ted, it seems like, based on what you’ve said, the issue at stake isn’t just the sin itself. It’s also his attitude about the sin and his attitude about being confronted. Will he call it what it is — sin? If he won’t even talk about it, humbly, then there really is reason, based on what Jesus said in John 3 and John 10, to wonder if he’s really a true follower of Jesus. You have to ‘love the light’ to be a Christian! Does he want to make excuses and defend his right to live that way? Or does he know it’s sin, will he call it sin, and does he really want to change? If so, then you’ve got a foundation from which to walk with him. If, on the other hand, he only makes excuses and even resents you bringing it up…then, according to Jesus, you can’t even consider him a brother.”

“So, what should I do?”

“Well,” Wayne continued, “if he were in a Biblical environment — where all the members care for one another — you could ask a couple of brothers who know him to join you in talking with him about it, like Jesus commanded in Matthew 18. But chances are he’s not in an environment where obedience to Jesus is expected, so there may not be two other brothers who are willing to hold up Jesus’ standard with you. But you never know. Why don’t you look into what sort of religious environment he is in? Maybe there will be some brothers there who can help him.”

“So you’re saying unless I find a couple others to help, I may have done all I can already?”

“Well, if it were me, I’d at least give it another shot by myself to see if he might be soft and willing to change. If he’s not, then plead with him to not call himself a Christian if he doesn’t plan to live like one. I know that may sound strong, but if a basic, gentle call to live like Jesus causes him to get defensive and stiff-arm you, then you don’t have any Biblical ground to continue to walk with him as a brother.” Wayne took a deep breath. “He’s not a brother just because he answered an altar call or signed a card, or because he was simply immersed in water, or because he’s willing to give you the shirt off his back. He’s a brother if he loves the light and his life belongs to Jesus. As Paul said, a person won’t be saved unless they ‘agape’ the truth. I’m not trying to be harsh. It’s simply what the Bible teaches. Unfortunately, most don’t view the teachings of Jesus as something to be obeyed. Instead, they view them as slogans to be admired, sermons to be preached, or songs to be sung.”

Tony sat with his eyes fixed on Wayne, surprised by his directness. Wow! Despite his uncertainty, there was something comforting about what he’d witnessed. Though he felt ashamed and challenged, he also saw a peace and reality that were compelling.

67

“PHIL, YOU OWE it to your people to make sure they don’t get mixed up with these guys.”

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Phil looked at the door, then back at his guest. “Looks like he’s here.” He sat up in his chair. “Come in.”

The door to Phil’s office opened and Steve Parker entered. He looked around, his hesitancy obvious. “Am I…interrupting?”

“No, not at all. Good to see you, Steve.” Phil stood up and extended his hand. Steve accepted firmly.

Phil motioned for Steve to have a seat in a chair near the wall. “I want you to meet a new friend of mine. Steve Parker, this is Hal Ramsey.”

Steve reached over and shook the stranger’s hand. “Good to meet you.”

“Steve, I know you must be confused after Sunday, and I’d like to clear that up. I realize we were both excited about the things we’ve heard from Wayne Davidson and George Archer.” Steve looked from man to man and shifted uncomfortably as Phil continued speaking.

“Recently, I learned some things which confirmed the concerns I was having.” Phil paused. “I’ve called you here because I think it’s very important that you hear these things as well.”

Phil motioned toward Hal. “This gentleman is a local bank vice-president. He’s also been an elder for fifteen years. So we’re being advised by a very reputable, reliable man.” Phil looked toward the distinguished man sitting beside Steve. “Hal…”

“Believe me, I understand what you guys are going through,” Hal began. “I’ve known Wayne Davidson for a long, long time. I was one of his elders at the Hampton Street Bible Church. In fact, as chairman of the search committee, I was the one most responsible for getting him the job.” Hal stared trance-like out the window. “For most of the time he was there, we were friends…best friends. He confided in me.” Hal stopped, then continued in a slow, gloomy voice. “But he had new ideas, ideas he convinced me were for the good of the church. I believed, at the time, that they were. I thought his ideas would help breathe new life into Hampton Street. That’s why I defended him.”

“What happened?” Steve blurted, drawn in by the story.

“Well, somewhere along the way, he started to change. What started off as simple, fresh ideas aimed at helping the church…became rigid judgments.” Hal finished with a sad, but firm tone. “I tried to reason with him from the Scriptures. One time, we spent all afternoon in a church classroom going over one of Jesus’ parables. But he wouldn’t hear me. He couldn’t hear me! The deception had set in.” Hal turned toward the wall as if to hide his emotion. “I could tell you a few things about his personal life that would shock you as well. But I’d rather do my best to protect him and be discreet.”

This is terrible. Steve stared, unblinking, at Hal. I can’t believe this is happening!

Phil glanced at Steve, comforted by his growing bewilderment.

Allowing the heavy silence to settle just long enough, Hal started again. “Did Wayne tell you why he left Hampton Street?”

“No…no, he didn’t.”

“I’m not surprised. Unfortunately, he finally concluded we were all lost and that he had to leave.” He focused on the wall beside Steve. “He decided he couldn’t associate anymore with people who were still struggling with weaknesses. Even his wife, a dear Christian woman, can barely live with him when he goes on his tirades.”

Hal paused, glanced at Phil, then back to Steve. “When you have a man like that in leadership at a congregation, it creates all sorts of chaos. In fact, because of my closeness to the situation, I was swept up in his leaving and was forced to resign.”

Hal watched for a reaction. Steve’s eyes were closed, his face hard to read. Hal cleared his throat. “And as for George Archer. That’s a sad situation, too. One of my colleagues here in town is a trustee on the board of that Bible college. They were shocked and dismayed when they learned from the students and faculty of this professor’s behavior.”

“Why don’t you tell him some of the specifics, Hal,” Phil encouraged. “I think that will help.”

Steve reluctantly opened his eyes as Hal began to speak. “I’ll give you one of many examples. One day he threw his diploma into a trash can in front of a classroom full of students.” Hal drew a deep breath. “It’s a total disrespect for authority. Just like Jude warned us about.”

Hal raised his voice with energy. “It bothers me to think about the Godly missionaries who got their training at that institution. And, he…just throws his diploma in the trash can.” His voice shook. “They’re elitists who despise common Christians. They spend their time looking for people who will give ear to their ideas. It’s dangerous!”

Hal’s red face brightened as he continued. “As Paul warned in Galatians one, men who tamper with the free gift of God’s grace are inviting eternal damnation.”

Hal paused, regathered his emotions and started again. “It breaks my heart to have to mention all of this.” He shook his head mournfully. “I wish it were different, but these aren’t the kinds of characters you want influencing your wife and children. Believe me, I know what it’s like to feel that responsibility. I’m a former elder. I don’t take it lightly.” Hal hung his head in a show of grief.

“I know it was difficult for you to share all of that, Hal.” Phil’s voice was peppered with sympathy and a hint of admiration. “Thanks.”

He looked toward Steve. “Steve, as I see it, we owe a lot to Hal. He has saved us from finding these things out the hard way. As for the home group, we need to stick with the original plan. Of course, if someone is in tears, I realize we may need to make some alterations. I’m fine with that. But the thrust of what we do needs to stay on course. The lessons I have created should be the bedrock of the future.” Hal nodded in agreement.

Phil stood. “I believe in you, Steve. Believe it or not, I wish all the other home groups in this church could go as far as yours has…and will!” He leaned onto his desk with both hands. “Are you with me…partner?”

“I…I think so.”

68

STEVE STARED AT THE TABLE, mindlessly tracing rings around the mouth of a glass of milk, trying to unravel the conversation with Phil and Hal.

He stood, straining to push himself up from the table. Abandoning the uneaten sandwich he had made moments before, he wandered in the direction of the living room. The plush recliner offered no comfort as Steve grappled to make sense of the afternoon.

How could George and Wayne seem so real, yet not know God? Steve relived in his mind his last few interactions with them. They didn’t seem divisive or spiteful. They didn’t seem like false teachers. I must be naïve! He covered his eyes with the palms of his hands and leaned back in silence.

“What’s wrong, Steve?” Teresa’s voice was soft. He sat upright and tried to wipe the confusion from his eyes. How long has she been there?

She sat on her knees beside him.

“I thought, for the first time in my life, I was hearing God’s voice,” he said quietly. “How could I have been so completely off track? Was I just listening to my emotions?”

“What are you talking about?” Teresa’s face showed concern. “Please…tell me what’s happened.”

Steve leaned back again and sighed. He had hoped to spare her the details. He hated to relive Hal’s confident unveiling of Wayne’s past and Phil’s eager council. But she needs to know.

Teresa sat quietly as Steve spoke, but the frequent changes in her face reassured him she was following every word. He saw his own confusion mirrored in her eyes and it hurt. He longed to console her, but he couldn’t even console himself.

“It seems incredible,” Teresa broke the silence. “It’s hard to believe Wayne and George have been through so much. And only a few months ago! They’ve been so encouraging, so helpful.”

“Yeah, I’m still reeling from it, too. I couldn’t have imagined yesterday that these things were true. But this guy has known Wayne for years.”

“What did Wayne have to say about all this?”

Steve had no answer. Her simple question had caught him off guard.

“Well, I haven’t talked to him.”

“Steve!” She put her hand on his arm. “You haven’t talked to him? How do you know any of this is even true? Maybe this Hal person has something to hide or is after revenge. People can be like that. Remember the forty men, referred to in the Bible, who were never going to eat again until Paul, the apostle, was dead?”

Steve ran his fingers through his hair and knotted them behind his head. He stared at Teresa for several moments, feeling the impact of her words. Hope, mingled with shame, prevented a response.

“I mean, don’t you think it’s important to get Wayne’s side of the story? Seriously, what do we really know about this Hal, anyway?”

Steve’s countenance lightened and he moved to the front of the chair. Reaching over, he put his arm around Teresa. “You know,” he said with a grin, “you’re pretty smart for a college dropout.” His face grew more serious as he looked into her eyes. “How will I know who to believe in all this?”

“Listen to your heart, Steve,” she said quietly. “You’ll know. The sheep know the Shepherd’s voice.”

STEVE PARKER’S CAR sliced through the thick summer rain, the wipers providing a hypnotic rhythm for his anxious thoughts. His gut told him there was Life in Wayne. But his head fought back. I’ve only known him a short time — Hal said he was his best friend! Besides, I’m no Bible scholar…I’m a chemist.

Traffic was slowing as drivers strained to see the contours of the road. Rather than cooling things off, the showers only served to raise the humidity and fill the interior of Steve’s sedan with an uncomfortable muggy feeling.

Wayne did spend a lot of time talking about righteousness, but didn’t Jesus and Paul and John and…Maybe I’m just gullible. Maybe Hal and Phil are right…or maybe I’m just tired of dealing with it. Does it have to be so hard?

Steve negotiated the final turn before reaching the Davidsons’ driveway. He cut the ignition, hoping to secure a few more minutes of reflection before he went in. Unfortunately, the porch lit up almost instantly and he saw Wayne leaning out the screen door, trying to identify the late-night guest. As Wayne recognized the sedan, his face brightened and he waved. Steve took a deep breath and, in one fluid motion, opened the door, opened his umbrella and shot into the house.

“Hey, Steve, what’s up? You sure picked a great night to be out!” Wayne teased, gesturing toward the blackened sky. Emily rushed off to make coffee, while her husband took the wet umbrella from their dripping guest.

Steve shifted nervously, anxious to get this over with. “Well, Wayne, there’s something I need to—”

“Daddy, who’s here?”

“It’s Steve, Blake. Go on back to bed, Champ.” Wayne redirected the curious sleep evader with a rub to the head and smiled apologetically at Steve, gesturing toward the den.

“I’m sorry, Steve. What were you saying?” Wayne sat down on the piano bench while Steve found the end of the couch across from him. He sighed heavily, collecting his thoughts. Part of him wanted to yell, but part of him wanted to cry.

“Steve, what’s wrong?” Wayne waited. “Can I help?”

“I hope so,” Steve answered.

Wayne watched a dozen emotions wrestle on his guest’s face as Steve chose his words slowly and deliberately. “I guess I’ve been wondering why you and George left the places where you were…Are there skeletons in the closet? It seems like you just float from one group of believers to another, and don’t really seem to be accountable to anyone. You don’t belong to any Church here locally, or any at all that I know of. Do you?” Wayne shook his head but sensed that Steve wasn’t finished. “What about the need for leadership, or some kind of accountability to keep you from getting off track?”

Wayne raised his eyebrows. “Well, Steve, I’ll get back to the skeleton question, but believe me, there’s nothing that would please me more than to be totally immersed in a Biblical body of believers! If I knew of a body of believers locally who were embracing Jesus as their only standard, I would gladly make myself accountable to them. I’m not looking for perfect people, believe me. I just want the confidence of knowing that the Church I would give my life over to really wants to put into practice Jesus’ teachings and commands — not just preach about them while the members live in the world as they please. That sort of place is harder to find than you’d think, unfortunately for Jesus and all of us.

“Currently, though, I walk in the light with the handful of believers that I know love Jesus. They would die for me — any of them. And I for them! And every day they give their input into my life. I love that and I want that!”

Steve refocused on Wayne. “Do you mean that you don’t know of any Church in town obeying Jesus? That sounds elitist.” His tone became terse as the borrowed accusation gained credibility in his own mind.

“Whoa. Slow down, Steve.” Wayne slid forward. “Let’s make sure we understand each other.” Steve was surprised at Wayne’s gentle composure. “Now, do you know of a Church anywhere in the city whose members are totally committed to each other —on a grass-roots level — seven days a week?” He paused for a second. “I mean all of them, really devoted to each other as Jesus commanded and demonstrated?”

Steve looked at the floor, considering his reply. “Well, no. I guess not.” He raised his head. “But I wouldn’t say they’re not Christians!”

“Neither would I!! That’s not the issue at all!”

“So, you don’t think people should be instantly perfect…” Steve slowed down, donning a more puzzled look, “and that you shouldn’t fellowship with people who are immature?”

“Steve, of course not!” Wayne locked eyes with Steve. “Who have you been talking to?”

Steve’s eyes widened as he involuntarily pulled back. How does he know? Watching Wayne closely, he answered, “Hal Ramsey.”

The name struck Wayne in the face like a brick. He was stunned for a moment, then asked softly, “Really? Hal Ramsey?” His eyes showed a painful battle with memories and questions. “How did you happen to meet Hal, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Steve seemed calmer, relieved things were in the open. “Phil introduced me to him.”

“Phil Malone?” Wayne shook his head. “Wow…that’s too bad.” He let out a sigh and stared quietly at the wall.

After a minute or two, he caught Steve with a sober gaze. “Just to illustrate the kind of obstacles we’re up against in this pursuit to take Christianity seriously — if Hal and Phil had problems with me…why were they talking with you?”

“Hmmm.” Steve rubbed his chin. “Good question. That’s not the way Jesus said to handle things, is it?”

“Right.” Wayne closed his eyes for a moment. “Steve—” he said, looking up, “I’m really not inclined to try and answer their questions with you caught in the middle. I’m not interested in trying to prove anything to anyone or make myself look good. There certainly were a number of things that were misrepresented, unfortunately. But, I’m not sure it would be productive to go into all those details.”

Steve nodded.

“But,” Wayne offered, “if there’s anything unanswered for you — I’d be happy to try and help.”

“Oh,” Steve nodded, “you already have.”

STEVE SWALLOWED the last few spoonfuls of Captain Crunch as quickly as he could. He’d set his alarm clock later this morning to compensate for the lateness of last night’s conversation with Wayne. Bowl rinsed and orange juice downed, Steve whistled a song of thanks as he slipped his shoes on and ducked into the family room to kiss Teresa.

“Bye, Honey,” he said buoyantly. “Oh, did you ever find a repair shop that can fix the CD player?”

Teresa looked up from her Bible and smiled. “No, Dear, it wasn’t necessary.”

“What do you mean?”

She set her coffee mug on the table and threw both arms toward the entertainment center in mock showmanship. “Ta-da! A brand new ten-disc CD player with all the latest features.”

Steve moved closer to the new stereo component and stared in disbelief.

“George Archer brought it by the day before yesterday. He said he thought it was a shame for us to be without one, and with all the trouble that old one kept giving us…”

“He brought it over the day before yesterday?” Steve stood gaping at the gift sitting in front of him. What a heel I’ve been! But…maybe they’re trying to buy my trust with fake acts of love. Wouldn’t that be the ultimate deception…? Steve’s mind raced. NO! I’ve SEEN their hearts!

“I’m sorry, Steve. I meant to tell you, but so much was going on that it just slipped my mind.”

Steve grabbed Teresa and gave her a bear hug. He looked straight into his wife’s bright eyes. “Oh, Teresa, God has been so good to us!”

69

“THAT’S TWENTY-ONE. You win.” Eric wiped his forehead with his sleeve and chased the ball Ted had just sent through the hoop. “I was close, though.”

“Close?” Ted quizzed. “You call seven points close?”

Eric returned with the ball. “It’s my strategy.” He handed the ball to Wayne. “I gave you guys the advantage…to wear you out.” He flashed a sly grin. “I’m sure you’ll be taking it much easier next game. You wouldn’t want to jostle your dentures loose or break one of those brittle bones.”

They all turned their heads as a loud laugh erupted from the side of the backyard court. Wayne and Ted exchanged glances, then headed for the lawn chair in which the lounging George hid behind a large pair of sunglasses.

“What’s so funny? Are you gonna let him talk about us that way?” Wayne hoped to lure George into a game of two-on-two.

George looked up at Wayne, dual suns dancing off his ridiculous black sunglasses. His face showed no expression. “I believe he was referring to you two, not me. Eric and I will run circles around you old codgers!”

Wayne and Ted looked at one another and laughed, nearly choking on the lemonade they had taken from the picnic table. Then George stood up, took the ball from Wayne and proceeded onto the court.

Now even Eric’s jaw dropped as George dribbled fluidly to the three-point line, squared up, and sank a flawless basket. Nothing but net.

Ted shrugged. “Let’s do it!” He put his drink down and soon the court brimmed with lay-ups, jump shots and passes as Eric and George took a quick lead. Eric fought hard for rebounds and sank two lay-ups. George seemed unstoppable from the three-point-line and surprisingly quick underneath. But in spite of George’s closet basketball prowess, Wayne and Ted were too much. They overtook them and built a firm 37-29 lead.

Eric sank a six-foot jumper to make it 37-31. Wayne took the ball at the top of the key. George checked it and Wayne began dribbling, looking for a pass to Ted or a chance to drive to the goal. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a medium-height man enter the Stones’ gate. He held the ball and watched as the smiling Steve Parker made his way over to the court.

“I thought I’d join you guys.” Steve kept his hands in his pockets as he stepped onto the court. The five men stood there, exchanging smiles.

George broke the silence. “Good, I need a replacement just about now.” He pointed at Wayne. “You cover him.”

70

HAL RAMSEY HARDLY NOTICED the television program in front of him as he savored in his mind the recent events. He relished the fact that Virginia had not been able to interfere with the work he thought God was calling him to do. He’d been able to slip into their elite circle, bring some justice, and slip out again. The feeling was reminiscent, in a way, of a time when he was a boy.

He and his brother had been given a small plot of ground by their father, where they both planted watermelon seeds. Each had two plants producing melons. The plants were difficult to grow, and halfway through the summer Hal was taking pride in the fact that he had three baseball-sized melons maturing on his vines. His older brother, Rex, had only two.

As the summer progressed, however, Rex’s melons were visibly becoming larger than Hal’s. To add insult to injury, one of Hal’s largest melons succumbed to vine rot, and another was run over by his father’s pick-up truck. One night, while his family was in bed, Hal snuck out to the garden with a hand spade and poked deep into the dirt around the base of Rex’s plants, fatally severing many of the roots. During the next two weeks, Rex’s plants slowly died a mysterious death — to Hal’s pure enjoyment. After all, what had happened to his melons wasn’t fair. No one had ever discovered the truth and Hal still congratulated himself on occasion — occasions like tonight. Now he was able to do the same thing to these elitist, self-righteous workers of iniquity. They would have been able to go on “masquerading as servants of righteousness”…if it weren’t for him.

His déjà vu was interrupted by the telephone. He was home alone, so he placed his memory on its shelf and got up to retrieve the phone.

“Hello, this is Hal.”

“Hal, this is Phil.”

“Hi, Phil!” Hal said cheerfully, “What can I do for you?”

Phil leaned back in his leather chair, glad to catch Hal at home. “Well, Hal, I hate to bother you again, but I’m wondering if you would have time to come to my office again sometime this week and meet with Steve Parker and myself.”

Hal paused for a moment, chewing on the proposition. “Why? What’s up?”

Phil detected some hesitation in Hal’s voice and sat up, giving the call his full attention. “Well, Steve called me this afternoon. He’d like to get together again and talk more about Wayne Davidson.”

Phil paused, giving Hal a chance to volunteer his services, but continued when silence answered. “He stressed the need for you to be there.”

“Do you think there’s trouble?” Hal blurted.

“Trouble?” Phil echoed in surprise.

“I mean…do you think everything is all right with Steve?”

“Well, actually, he’s talked with Wayne and has more questions on his mind. I’d really hate to lose Steve to these impostors. I think he could use another dose of the sober truth. If you could just…”

“Listen, Phil. I’d like to help you out, but I can only do so much. I told you guys everything I know. I don’t want to get pulled into a ‘he said-she said’ sort of thing.”

“Hal, you really don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t! And if Steve’s going around talking to Wayne and my wife…I won’t allow my name to be dragged through the mud anymore!”

“Your wife?” Phil was confused. “Well, I guess I…”

“Listen, I’ll continue to pray for Steve, but I just don’t think it would be wise at this point to get into all this again, okay?”

“Sure, Hal.”

“Thanks, Phil. Listen, I’ve got some things going on here right now, so I’d better go.”

“Okay.” Phil slowly hung up the phone and sat perplexed. This sounds fishy…Maybe Hal isn’t credible after all. But he said he could produce dozens of other witnesses…But then, there were some “witnesses” at Jesus’ trial, too…NO! I’ve considered this already. Stay on course, Malone!

“TED AND CAROLYN are going to watch the children tonight,” Wayne called to Emily, setting his briefcase on the table.

“Really? Why?”

“Oh, I was hoping we could go out.”

“Are you asking me to dinner, Mr. Davidson?” Emily appeared from the kitchen.

“I’m only asking if you’ll say yes.” Wayne smiled as he kissed Emily on the forehead. Sometimes he was in awe of the changes he was seeing God work in her life. They were partners now in this journey.

Her face lit up. “So where are you taking me?”

“Oh, I was thinking Stewart’s Steak House, if that’s okay with you.”

“Stewart’s? Wow.” She raised her eyebrows in jest. “You must have gotten a big paycheck.”

“Actually, no. But a couple of mornings ago, as I was leaving for work, I found an envelope someone had slipped under our door with forty dollars in it and a note that said, ‘Do something special with Emily.’”

“Are you serious?…How nice! And here I thought this was your idea.”

“No, I think it was God’s.”

Wayne was close. God did have a hand in ordering tonight’s events, as He often does for those living in the center of His will. But this time, steak was not on the menu.

“Sweetheart, I was wondering…” Emily started.

“Yes?” Wayne laid his tie across the back of the couch.

“I was wondering if we could go somewhere other than Stewart’s.”

“Sure. What did you have in mind?”

“Oh, maybe Chinese food.”

“That’ll work.” He smiled, pulling back the curtain as the Stones’ mini-van arrived. “China Garden or Peking Palace?”

“Peking Palace,” she responded instantly. “I like their egg drop soup.”

“Sounds great.”

AFTER HIS UNCOMFORTABLE phone call with Phil Malone, Hal discovered he had an unusual hunger for some Chinese food. It might have been more of an urge to leave his home out of fear that Phil might call again. However, Hal generally didn’t like to look that closely in the mirror. He impulsively grabbed his coat and headed out to satisfy his appetite.

As Hal made his way to his booth at Peking Palace, he didn’t notice the Davidsons tucked away in a small booth at the rear of the restaurant. It wasn’t until after he ordered that he caught sight of them and quickly switched to the other side of his booth to cut off their angle. Periodically, he peeked nervously out at their booth, seeking solace in the fact that they appeared to be finishing their meal. When the waiter brings them their check, I’ll slip into the men’s room until the coast is clear, he mused, wiping his brow with a red cloth napkin.

His scheme worked, though his thoughts wouldn’t allow him to enjoy his meal in peace. He vacillated between congratulating himself and justifying himself. Guys like Wayne are dangerous. Hal shook his head to clear his badgering thoughts. I’ve got to get my mind off this stuff. Maybe I’ll pick up a video on the way home.

Hal hastily finished up his dinner and asked the waiter for his check. When the waiter returned, Hal looked at the check and then to the waiter in confusion. “What’s this?” Hal inquired, pointing to the check. Written across it was the word: “PAID.”

“Ah, a Mr. Davidson has paid your bill. He asked that you receive this.” The waiter offered a folded paper napkin which Hal accepted reluctantly. Without smiling, Hal dismissed the waiter with a curt, “Thank you,” and slowly sat back. He carefully unfolded the napkin:

Hal, we do care about you. For Jesus’ sake, Wayne.

Hal felt nauseous.

71

THE STRIKING SCENT of lemon furniture polish filled the air. Stella was doing a little cleaning. She stood back, inspecting her work and admiring the large print that hung over the couch.

“Oh, a fingerprint.” She turned to get a rag as the door to her office opened.

“Steve Parker! I didn’t hear you on the stairs.”

“Hi, Stella.”

“Here to do some scheming with Phil?” She grinned, only half-covering her sarcasm.

Steve had been confident coming up the stairs, but seeing Stella brought him back to reality.

He swallowed hard. “Actually, I am here to see Phil. We have an appointment.”

“Yes…yes, you are on the books for 5:15. Just in time.” She pushed a button on her phone. “Phil, Steve Parker is here to see you.”

“Send him in.” Phil’s voice rang over the speaker and through his closed door with authority.

Steve shuddered. God, help me!

He grabbed the door knob to Phil’s office, hesitated, drew a deep breath and opened it. Phil was busy rearranging papers on his desk. He didn’t even look up. “What can I do for you today?”

The knot in Steve’s stomach tightened, his mustered courage waning. “Where’s Hal?”

“He couldn’t make it.” Phil dropped the papers in his hands. “I tried to get him to come, but he…couldn’t make it.”

Phil placed his hands firmly on his desk. “Anyway…” He was again poised and in control. “I’m sure I can help you.” He pointed at the chair behind Steve. “Have a seat.”

Steve dropped into the high-backed chair. Phil loomed over him as he sank into the plush cushions. “I was wanting to talk about my last meeting with you and Hal. Maybe I shouldn’t do it since…since Hal’s not here?”

“No, why don’t you go ahead. If it’s important, it can happen now.”

Steve felt more uncertain than ever. This is not going well.

His voice quivered as he began. “Phil…it seems to me that the last meeting we had was not God’s way, if the Scriptures are the standard. It was, as far as I can tell, unbiblical and disobedient.”

“Unbiblical?!” Phil looked down at Steve with raised eyebrows. “What could possibly have been unbiblical about that meeting?” The words came like nails, intended to permanently slam the door on Steve’s courage.

“If one believer has a problem with another believer,” he began, looking Phil in the eye, “didn’t Jesus say you should go to him and him alone? As I see it, if you have a problem with Wayne, you should be talking with him about it. You shouldn’t be inviting me into your office and talking with me about it.”

Phil remained cool. “Steve, I have a lot of responsibility around here. I’m responsible for these home groups and I’m responsible for the people in them. I’ve been around a lot longer than you.” He folded his hands on his desk. “Understand, there are a lot of religious nuts out there. My responsibility doesn’t lie with them — to help them see their error. My responsibility lies with the people of this Church.”

“But, still!” Steve pled. “Jesus just hasn’t given us license to make exceptions. To put it simply, it’s slander.” He moved to the edge of his seat. “You just met Hal. Yet you’re taking his word as the truth and using it to accuse and slander another brother. It’s not right!”

“That’s only if we know he’s a brother.” Phil scoffed. “Galatians one declares some very serious condemnations on a man advocating a gospel of perfectionism without room for God’s grace.”

Steve studied Phil. The change in him was stark. “Phil, I was with you the night you heard with your own ears…with your heart. That was no gospel of perfectionism. You’re intentionally twisting their words, and you shouldn’t do that! You knew then it was real and alive — it was Jesus. You were touched. I know you were.”

Phil shifted in his chair. He felt the pulse in his neck quicken as his blood pressure raised. “Sure, it all sounds good. It does. Jesus as Head of His Church, the body of Christ…sounds great.” His voice crescendoed. “But the only way Wayne Davidson knows how to get you there is through the bondage of perfectionism and policing one another, rather than letting the Holy Spirit do the work. All the focus is on what you do — not on grace. It’s a sugar cube…” he paused for effect, “but it’s laced with poison.”

“Phil—” Steve scooted his chair closer to the desk, “you hardly know Wayne, yet you’re speaking as if you’re the expert on who he is and what he believes.”

Phil shook his head, “Steve, you are—”

Steve cut him off. “You brought up grace. Let’s talk about grace. You were there the night Judy talked about it.”

Phil seethed and looked out the window.

Steve continued gently. “Please. Listen. There’s a big difference between a weak person and a rebellious person. Although they both might commit the same exact sins, it doesn’t mean much to the rebellious person. It might break their pride but it doesn’t break their heart. Inside, they don’t hunger and thirst for righteousness. They’re not broken and contrite. They don’t have ‘Godly sorrow which works repentance,’ but ‘worldly sorrow.’” Steve looked into Phil’s calloused eyes. “God’s grace and His lovingkindness are extended to the weak, but He calls the rebellious to repent. Sure, God loves all people, even the rebellious. But He calls them to repent. He doesn’t comfort them in their rebellion with sweet words of cheap grace.” Steve was surprised at the sharpness of his own words.

“Remember the rich young ruler? The Scriptures say Jesus looked at him and loved him, but He didn’t change the standard. No matter how many good things he had done, he still harbored rebellion and self-life in his heart. Jesus didn’t offer him an installment plan of ‘you’re only human — hang around and you’ll grow into it.’ Things were more important to him than Jesus was.” Steve didn’t slow down. “Contrast that with the woman caught in adultery. She didn’t have the same outward appearance of righteousness that the rich young ruler had. In fact, her sin was obvious. But Jesus treated her differently. He forgave her, told her to go her way and sin no more. He didn’t soft-sell anything, but He saw the difference between rebellion and weakness.” He enunciated clearly. “God loves everyone, but He can’t work with rebellion or pride or stiff-necked defensiveness. That’s why he didn’t chase after the rich young ruler. He couldn’t work with him or walk with him until he turned from his love of the world’s stuff and his need to be in charge of his own life. You don’t see Jesus comforting the rich young ruler with, ‘Don’t worry, God’s grace will cover.’”

“That’s where you are badly mistaken…or should I say deceived!” Phil’s voice was raised. “You need to hear me carefully. Grace is not a doctrine to be toyed with. I’ve sat under some of the most learned scholars; I’ve done exhaustive Greek and Hebrew word studies — I know grace!” He glared intently at Steve. “And you’ve just demonstrated to me that you don’t understand it in the slightest. In fact, if these are the kinds of views you espouse, I’m not sure I want you to be a home group leader!”

Steve didn’t flinch. “Phil, I don’t believe you have a doctrinal problem with me! I believe it’s in your heart. We were both excited when we heard what the Church is really meant to look like. You yourself wanted to go back and talk with Wayne privately. Nobody prompted you to do that. You wanted to. Everything was fine until the night of the home group meeting at my house. It was a wonderful time together when we tried to let Jesus have control of the meeting, and you know that! Could it be that letting Jesus have control of our times together means that you can’t count on being in charge anymore? Is that what really offended you? Is it your pride, your ambition, your paycheck…?

“I mean, here’s what I know — I’ve only had two personal conversations with you in the past week. In the first one you bared your heart, questioning whether all you’d ever done was wrong. The next thing I know, I’m in your office with a man you barely know, listening to slander about Wayne Davidson. That doesn’t sound like a doctrinal problem to me. It sounds like a price you’re not willing to pay.”

72

PHIL THUMBED THROUGH the latest issue of the management magazine to which he subscribed as he sat on the leather couch outside Reynolds’ office. Frequent glances at his watch only added to the tension of the wait. I wonder why he’s running so late today. Tuesdays are his early mornings.

Just then, Nelson Reynolds came walking through the door and stopped by his secretary’s desk. “Good morning. Any crises so far today?”

“Good morning, Pastor. No trouble yet. I’ve booked all of your counseling slots this week, and there’s a message from a young lady asking you to perform her wedding.”

“Anyone I know?”

“I don’t believe so. I think she just heard about how nice a job you did at that wedding two weeks ago. And I don’t blame her. That was one of the most beautiful weddings I’ve ever seen.” She looked for the phone number as her boss waited patiently. “Oh…and Phil Malone is here to see you.”

“Oh, I didn’t see you there, Phil. Good morning!”

“Good morning, Nelson.” Phil followed Reynolds into his office and started to close the door behind them. “Do you mind?”

“No, go right ahead. What’s on your mind?”

“I wanted to follow up with you on the incident with Steve Parker last week.”

“What incident?” The Senior Pastor wrinkled his forehead. “Oh, that awkward conversation in the auditorium? What was that all about?”

“Well, Steve’s been getting excited about some new ideas, and I’m concerned about the safety of the flock.” Phil waited for the words to sink in. “I’ve grown increasingly alarmed at the way Steve Parker is running his home group. He is taking some dangerous liberties.”

“Dangerous?” Reynolds took his glasses off and looked across the desk into Phil’s face. “That’s a serious accusation to level against someone for simply not using your curriculum.”

That stung. “Nelson, this is not about my curriculum. Last week, Steve invited some nonmembers to speak to his home group.”

“Without consulting anyone?”

“Yes!”

Reynolds raised an eyebrow. “Who are these people?”

“One of them is the former pastor of Hampton Street Bible Church, and the other used to be a Bible professor at the college. They’ve both left their positions, perhaps ousted by members or administration — there is some mystery about it all. And now they seem to have a vendetta against organized religion.”

“Sounds like they’re the problem, not Steve.”

“That might have been true two weeks ago, but now he’s bought into their whole idealistic, dangerous story.”

“Have you tried talking with him?”

“Twice! He’s not planning to stop and is aggressively pushing their views.”

Reynolds rose to his feet and began pacing. “I had a lot of hope for Steve. He was so genuine, so full of energy.”

“I hate it, too, but it’s got to stop. He can’t keep leading a home group!”

Reynolds stopped pacing, breathed a sigh, and looked out the window. “Agreed.” He turned back to Phil. “I’ll talk to him.”

“WHAT IS IT, SWEETHEART? Is everything all right?” She took the telephone receiver from him and put her hand in his. Teresa hadn’t seen Steve cry in a long time. Her heart began pounding as her mind raced with the possibilities. One of his parents?! Her fears were cut short by Steve’s broken reply.

“I…I just can’t believe it.”

“Can’t believe what?” she asked, almost frantic.

“That was Nelson Reynolds. He asked me to step down as home group leader and to not meet with that group anymore.”

“What?” She cocked her head and squinted. “I don’t understand. Why? I thought things were going well.”

“Phil didn’t think so.”

“Did he say anything else?”

“He said…” Tears streamed down Steve’s face. “He said he would pray for me and the people I may have influenced.”

Steve rose, walked into his bedroom and closed the door.

73

TONY WIPED HIS HANDS on his white pants and looked at his watch. 11:05. Betta’ hurry. He quickly set the napkin-rolled silverware in place, straightened the salt and pepper shakers and moved on to the next table.

He pulled a cardboard table-tent out of his apron pocket and smoothly inserted it into the plastic display. He checked both sides, making certain it was straight. That picture oughta sell ‘em. He studied the picture of Vito’s new Lemon Cheesecake Supreme. Mmmm. He then flipped it to see a large slice of chocolate cake on display beside a generous scoop of vanilla ice cream. Tony involuntarily licked his lips.

As he finished wiping the table, the host seated an early customer in the booth behind him. “I’ll be right wit’ ya,” Tony promised over his shoulder as he walked toward the kitchen, carrying a gray plastic bus tray.

Tony returned to his patron, pulled a pen out from behind his ear and began, “Hi, my name’s Tony. I’ll be your waita’…” He caught himself. “Hey, I know you.” He patted the dark-haired man on the arm. “You’re…” He snapped his fingers, hoping to jar his memory. “You’re Phil. Wayne’s friend. Good to see ya!”

“Good to see you, too, Tony.” Phil extended his hand. “How’s business?”

“Can’t complain.” Tony accepted the offered hand and pumped it with a strength that displayed his pleasure. “Ya seen your buddy Wayne lately? How’s he doin’?”

Phil lowered his eyes to the table. “Well, I’m afraid things aren’t so good right now.”

“What?” Tony’s mouth dropped open. “He ain’t sick or nothin’ is he?”

“No, Tony.” Phil sighed. “That’s not it.” Phil shook his head.

“Well, what then?” Tony raised his voice. “You and him havin’ a fallin’ out?”

“No, not really. I mean, I tried to help him…but…” Phil shook his head.

“Is he in trouble?” Tony sat down across from Phil. “C’mon. Ya gotta tell me. I like that guy.”

“Well…” Phil seemed to consider. “Okay, I guess you ought to know.” Phil’s look became more serious. “I’m not sure you’ll understand this, Tony, but Wayne’s gotten himself in some hot water — spiritually.”

“Hot watta?” Tony looked confused — as Phil intended him to.

“You know I’m a pastor at Metro Chapel, right?”

Tony nodded his head and Phil continued. “You see, that’s the reason I was in here with Wayne the last time. I was trying to help him see the mistake he was making. Tony, you must understand I care about him and want the best, but I’ve got to tell it to you straight.”

Tony was captivated, looking right into Phil’s face. “Tell me straight.”

Phil nodded. “Wayne and his friends are on a path that is…well…” He looked from side to side. “I don’t know how else to say this…sort of cultic.” He paused to let the words find their mark. “They’re very controlling of people and prone to use guilt to pressure and oppress each other.” He shook his head again, carefully considering his next sentence. “They have a harsh view of God and strong legalistic tendencies. I’ve tried talking to them, but…” He let his sentence fall.

He looked at Tony, who seemed lost. “Most importantly, Tony…be careful!” Phil’s voice was stern. “I’d hate for anyone else to fall prey.”

Tony just stared through blurred eyes at Phil. “So, ya gonna eat?”

Phil sat up. “Yeah, sure. I’ve got a little bit of time. Let’s see…”

Tony gave Phil a small nod of his head in deflated acknowledgement and turned to go back to work. His melancholy mood stood out in stark contrast to his nature. “What’ll it be?”

74

THE AIR WAS THICK. The pit in Wayne’s stomach matched the solemn faces in the room. They had shared many lighthearted evenings at the Davidsons’ home since beginning this new adventure, but tonight was not one of them. The Stones, Amy, George, the Parkers, Eric, and Virginia were all there. The day had evolved spontaneously. The women had been together for lunch and ended up praying instead. Ted and George had been with Wayne since late afternoon. Now, this living room of friends searched each other for answers.

“How are we ever going to be able to win back his trust now?” Wayne disturbed the silent circle of faces by voicing his perplexity. “He seemed so close to the Kingdom… Ahhhhhh…What would motivate a man who claims to be a Christian leader to poison a young lamb trying to learn who Jesus is? As Jesus said, millstones were made for this!”

A long pause hung in the air.

“Did you get to talk to him?” Emily broke in. “To try and dispel the paranoia?”

“Yeah, we tried that, Emily,” George answered. “Tony was polite but very brief and uncomfortable. It was obvious real damage has been done.”

Wayne looked across at Ted. “The real battle is to help him clear his head so he can hear the gospel with the fresh perspective he had before — without it coming across like we’re just trying to defend ourselves, or like we’re trying to chase him.

“He thinks we view God as a harsh judge and said he doesn’t want to get to know a God like that.” Wayne slapped his knee, then continued, “What we need is for God to give us some kind of key, some kind of doorway back into Tony’s heart. And I just can’t find one.” Wayne placed his face in his hands and rested his elbows on his knees.

A long gap of silence filled the air as everyone strained to see this puzzle from a different vantage point.

“I have a thought.” Amy’s voice caught everyone off guard, but her hopeful tone was refreshing.

“Please, go ahead,” Ted and Carolyn encouraged simultaneously.

“Well, when we were at the restaurant that time,” Amy began slowly, “it seemed like the thing that was the closest to Tony’s heart was his father. Remember?” She looked around the room. “I was thinking that if you showed him that getting to know God was like his relationship with his father, he might be able to understand where you’re coming from. His natural father believed in discipline, but Tony wouldn’t view him as harsh. He disciplined out of need. It was for his children’s own good. And that’s how God is, isn’t He?”

The dilemma, which before was a vapor and impossible to grasp, solidified. Her words — God’s words — had given it form, as if it were now a child’s puzzle, held simply in one’s hand, with the last piece an obvious match.

“I think you’re on to something, Amy.” Wayne was already relieved.

The saints spent some time asking God to provide an opportunity to share these things with Tony and thanking Him for His provision.

As the last of his company piled out of the house, Wayne reflected to Emily, “Surely the hand cannot say to the eye, ‘I have no need of you.’ God really does use all the members of the body together and forces us all to need each other, doesn’t He?”

“Yeah, and remember what else it says?” Emily replied. “The parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable.”

IT WAS TONY’S DAY OFF, and as Wayne had guessed, it was laundry day. Tony was busy preparing the week’s wash when George and Wayne pulled up into the oil-stained driveway. Wayne’s second guess was also right. The lawn was high as usual. For a bachelor who lives at work, the details of maintaining a home always seem to be one step behind.

George helped Wayne pull the lawn mower out of the back seat, and without being detected, they started the engine and began to battle the jungle in the front yard. George took the first shift as Wayne hoped the noise of the mower would rouse an opportunity to talk with Tony.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” Tony’s question was interrupted by the mischievous grin on Wayne’s face.

“Oh, nothing,” Wayne responded as he looked Tony in the eye.

Tony looked down to hide his softening uncomfortableness.

“Listen, Tony,” Wayne continued, “I know you’ve been given some warnings about us. I know you’ve been told we have a harsh view of God and that we nitpick each other. I wish I knew some way to convey to you the reality of it all. While we do care about each other and the Words of God, we really are doing nothing more than what Jesus commanded: ‘Teach them to obey everything I have commanded you.’”

Tony kept staring at the ground.

“Tony—” Wayne continued, “did your father ever discipline you when you were younger?”

Tony’s eyes brightened at the mention of his father. “Ya betta believe it!” he replied. “Any time I was out of line, I knew I was going to get a good whelping from my fadda when he found out about it.”

Wayne’s heart burned within him as God’s creative wisdom unfolded. “Well, do you think your father was a harsh man?”

“No! No way!” The response was instantaneous. “He was kind, real kind. But he just knew it would ruin a kid if he didn’t have any discipline. You know, he’d be spoiled rot’n.”

“Tony, that’s the same way God is. He’s not harsh and oppressive. He’s not looking over our shoulders trying to find ways to stop our fun and make our lives difficult. That’s not His nature.” Wayne furrowed his eyebrows as he looked into Tony’s face. “But, on the other hand, just like your father, He disciplines us for our good. He knows the things that will kill us, and He works real hard to keep us from trashing our lives.”

A light bulb came on in Tony’s eyes. It clicked — a revelation of God’s nature, breaking down walls and uprooting suspicions. “Ya know, that makes a lotta sense. Like my fadda used to say….”

It was good to see the real Tony again.

75

“SURE YOU DON’T NEED anything while we’re in here? My treat.”

“Nope. All covered in the fishing, skiing and roller blade departments.” Wayne chuckled as they passed a bass boat holding two mannequins, complete with rods, reels and the latest fashion in life jackets. “Thanks, anyway!” Wayne followed Ted to the checkout counter where Ted laid a shoe box and a pair of socks on the counter.

“Hey, I can’t believe I forgot to tell you — our friends from Miami are passing through town and I asked if they could stay for a while,” Wayne said, as Ted took the plastic bag from the cashier and thanked her with a smile.

“Really?! Are they going to?”

“Day after tomorrow. They’re hoping to stay two or three days.”

“Sounds great! I can’t wait to meet them.” Ted unlocked the doors to his car and they both climbed in. “I feel like I almost know them from what you’ve told me.” Ted started the car. “Is Mark coming?”

“Yeah. He is!” Wayne’s face lit up. “We’re all looking forward to it. Blake’s excited about giving his room up for a few days, and Emily’s already started planning meals. She was digging through her cookbook for enchilada recipes last night after they called.”

Ted joined Wayne in a laugh. “Maybe I should brush up on my high school Spanish.”

“I think this will be a profitable time for all of us.”

STEVE AND TERESA WALKED hand-in-hand up the driveway toward the Davidsons’ front door. Looking over at his wife, Steve’s sober expression gave way to a grin.

“I haven’t seen that face in a while.” Teresa returned her husband’s smile and they both laughed.

“I’m glad we’re here,” he acknowledged.

As they walked through the entryway, the faces greeting them were a breath of fresh air. Wayne and Emily, Ted and Carolyn, George, Eric, Virginia, and Amy — they were all there, along with three men Steve didn’t recognize. He instantly felt at home and let out a big sigh as he gave Wayne a bear hug.

“You certainly haven’t lost any strength,” Wayne gasped. Both men laughed as Steve loosened his grip.

“Let me introduce you to some of our friends from Miami.” Wayne turned to his guests. “Steve Parker, this is Mark Wallace. I met him on the airplane.”

“Good to meet you.” Steve shook his hand firmly.

“And this is Luis Rodriguez and Richard Costa, a couple of the brothers who are also part of the Church there.”

“What brings you guys to town?” Steve initiated, pushing past his own turmoil.

“We were out west visiting some saints,” Mark volunteered, “and now we’re passing through on our way back to Miami.”

“Welcome to town,” Steve smiled, shaking each hand. The warmth on their faces was striking.

“Well, Steve, is everything Okay with you?” Wayne asked. “I know it’s been rough.”

“Rough? Now that’s an understatement!” Steve shook his head back and forth.

“Have you made a decision yet?” George asked as everyone ambled for a seat in the living room.

“Not yet.” Steve took a seat on the floor next to the recliner Teresa had chosen. “I’m still trying to sort it all out. Half of me wants to stay and plow on, the other half just wants to quit. I’m not really sure what to do.”

“Leave Metro?” Carolyn ventured. “Why?”

“Well, I’m not sure if Wayne told you, but I’ve been asked to step down as a home group leader.”

“You’re kidding?!” Carolyn stared at Steve incredulously.

“I wish I was.”

“Did they say why?” Ted asked.

“They felt it was divisive for me to introduce unsanctioned persons to the home group.”

“But Phil was there,” Carolyn countered. “It wasn’t a big secret.”

“Phil told Nelson Reynolds he was there to ‘protect’ the flock, not to endorse the men.” Steve shook his head. “I even told him I wouldn’t bring anyone else to meet with the home group without their approval.”

“What’d he say to that?” Ted asked.

“He said they feel my current views about the nature of the Church are not in keeping with the goals of Metro Chapel.”

Teresa leaned forward and placed her hand on Steve’s shoulder to console him as he continued. “I just wish it wasn’t so complicated. All I really wanted to do was care about people.” He shrugged with his hands. “I wasn’t trying to start anything or be divisive.”

The gathered friends sat in silence, wishing they could ease Steve’s discomfort. Minutes passed. Steve scanned the room hoping to solicit a response.

“Would it be all right if I shared some thoughts?” came the quiet voice with a slight Spanish accent. All eyes turned toward Luis Rodriguez.

“Sure, that’d be great,” Steve encouraged.

“I was just wondering if the solution might be easier than you think.”

“What do you mean?” Steve asked hopefully.

“Well, we both know there’s no such thing as a ‘home group’ anyway. Right?”

“Huh?” Steve looked perplexed.

“I mean, from God’s vantage point. Keep in mind that home groups and home group leaders are man-made ideas. They don’t really exist in the Word of God, without doing some serious stretching. The Church was, in the Bible, a family — and simply had no ‘Church building’ for 250 years after Pentecost. Of course they met in homes — but there were no ‘home groups.’ Their lives were simply intertwined with each other every day.”

“Okay, I think I follow you.”

“Well, if all you want to do is to care about people — just do it! You don’t need a title or a home group for that.” Luis paused, studying Steve’s face. “In a sense, they’ve done you a favor by lightening your load. The title and props are unneeded clutter. Now your schedule is free to be involved in the lives of hungry lambs seven days a week.”

“Wow! That’s a great idea! Why didn’t I think of that?” Steve stared around the room, almost embarrassed by the simple wisdom.

“Just think about this get-together that we are having right now,” Luis continued. “Who are we, after all? We’re not a home group and this is not a worship service. We’re just Christians who are devoted to God and trying to care for each other.”

His expression grew more serious. “But keep in mind, not everyone welcomes others’ investment in their lives. In fact, most would prefer not to have it. They would rather sit at home and watch TV. For those, there’s reason to question whether or not they honestly consider the Word of God to be the measuring rod of who they really are spiritually.” A chorus of nods confirmed Luis’ reminder. “But there are others who, somewhere inside, have a longing for more. Focus on those people, pour your life out for them, and see if God blesses it. Depending on what happens, God can use all of that to teach and expand you, as well as to direct your future path.”

The room was silent with everyone nodding agreement. Luis seemed to capture the heart of God and provide a way out of Steve’s dilemma. Although he was a slight man and spoke humbly, his words seemed to carry an authority.

“That doesn’t mean you’ve got to compromise and blend in.” Luis leaned forward. “Stand up for Jesus’ teachings,” he said with energy. “Expect the saints and the leaders to conform their lives to the Word of God — with patience and kindness, of course. But don’t just walk away. Continue trying to help until they flatout tell you they don’t want it, and maybe ask you to leave. As Jesus said, ‘I would have gathered you as a hen gathers her chicks, but you would not.’ He tried until they killed Him.”

Luis paused, closing his eyes momentarily. He seemed to be deciding if there was anything more to say. “Chew on it, Steve. Mark, Richard and I, and of course all of these guys, will pray for you about all of this.”

Steve began to feel unburdened. Maybe this WILL work together for good.

VITO STUDIED HIS SPARSE RESERVATION LIST intently, as if the act alone would fill it up. Light afternoon. Lightest I’ve seen in months. Hope it fills up soon.

No sooner had the thought occurred to him, when he heard a multitude of voices in the outer entranceway. Vito looked up as Wayne pulled the inner glass door open and stood aside, letting a throng of friends pass through into the restaurant.

“Ahh, Mr. Davidson, I knew I could count on you to fill the place up. Our favorite customers are those who make a habit of bringing friends.”

Wayne smiled broadly and yelled over the pack. “Hi, Vito. We’re going to need the whole back section today. Think you can handle it?”

“For paying customers, we can always accommodate.” The vertically challenged host smiled as he scanned the crowd. He recognized most of the faces.

“And who would you like to have as your server today, Mr. Davidson? Tony, perhaps?” Vito asked with a knowing glance.

Wayne smiled. “Yes, if possible. And Vito,” he continued as he placed both hands around Vito’s neck in mock strangulation, “call me ‘Wayyyne!’”

Vito laughed. “Yes, Mr. Wayne, right this way.”

The guests wove their way to the somewhat secluded back section. Teresa and Emily arranged the children into their own booth, careful to remove all the glass salt and pepper shakers —potential projectiles for little hands. Eric pulled the chairs away from the tables, and Ted and Steve began sliding them together into a long line.

Tony Veneziano’s voice could be heard before he left the kitchen. He backed out the double doors with a pizza in both hands, and headed for the only other patrons in the restaurant. His jaw dropped as he saw the troop. He caught Wayne’s eye and flashed a quick smile.

Wayne leaned toward Luis. “That’s Tony, the guy I told you about.”

Luis nodded. “Aha,” he chuckled. “I’d like to meet him.”

Moments later, Tony leaned over Wayne’s end of the table. “Hey, Wayne.” He looked around to make certain others were watching. “What’cha doin’ here? The grass in my yard’s getting a little long, ya know.” He leaned closer. “Ya think you could come by this weekend?”

“Yeah, Tony, you bet. As a matter of fact, I could use the extra cash,” Wayne taunted.

“Well, if you’re looking for extra cash, we’a looking for a cook and a waita’ here.”

“Are you serious?”

“Sure. Got any experience with linguine?” Tony was surprised at Wayne’s interest.

“Of course. I eat it all the time.”

“Uh, maybe the waita’ job.” Tony winked.

“Excuse me, Tony.” Eric was standing at the opposite end of the table holding a menu in his hand. “I can’t seem to find your whole wheat pizza crusts on this menu.”

Tony straightened up and answered, “Uh, all of the pizzas come on wheat crust. That’s what flour’s made of, right?”

Eric cleared his throat, preparing to launch into a subroutine. “Actually, if it isn’t called ‘whole wheat flour,’ it’s been stripped of the bran and the wheat germ and bleached so that all you really have left is wallpaper paste.”

“So, did you want pepperoni or sausage on your wallpaper paste?” Tony asked sardonically.

Without flinching, Eric answered, “Neither. I’ll stick with pineapple and jalapenos, thanks.”

“Okay,” Tony answered with a grimace, “one pineapple-jalapeno. Comin’ up.”

The pizzas came sooner than everyone expected and George offered a prayer of thanks. Then they continued their conversations and enjoyed the pizzas. Before long, they were the only customers left and had free reign of the restaurant and much of Tony’s attention. He even provoked Wayne and Luis into a lively conversation about boxing and about life.

The evening ended with a simple song to Jesus, with Tony and Vito looking on.

76

“I HEAR YOU’VE BEEN quite busy this past week—” Phil said, making no attempt to hide his sarcasm, “visiting different members of Metro.”

“Yes, it’s been a really busy week, but it’s been good.” Steve repositioned the telephone to his other ear and sat down at his desk.

“Well, to tell you the truth, Steve, I’m not real comfortable with what I’ve been hearing.”

Steve’s neck tightened as he remembered the last conversation with Phil. “What do you mean?”

“Last night you were with the Smiths.” Phil paused for effect. “The night before that, the Evans. Before that, it was the Woodells and the Cartrights.”

“Yes, that’s right and…those night’s were all encouraging.” Steve’s words were deliberate as he tried to make sense of what seemed like accusations. “Is there a…problem?”

“You bet there’s a problem! You were told to step down from leadership at Metro.”

“And I’ve done that.” Steve was surprised at Phil’s tone.

“Ah, come on Steve. We know what you’re up to. You’re promoting Wayne Davidson’s nonsense and trying to gain a following after yourself.”

A following? He took a deep breath, hoping to ease his confusion. “Phil, wait a minute. All I’ve been doing is caring about the other members of the body of Christ and finding ways to serve them. That’s all.”

“Nonsense! You were asked, by your senior pastor, to step down because you are unfit to hold a position of responsibility! And the next thing we know, you’re sneaking around making visitations, the very thing you were asked not to do.”

“What?” he asked reflexively, unable to believe the accusation just leveled at him. “Phil, I’m trying to obey Jesus. You can’t ask me to stop obeying Jesus. I’m not making visitations. And I’m obviously not trying very hard to be sneaky, based on the list of names you just gave me.”

“I’m not asking you to stop obeying God. I’m asking you to obey the authority God has put over you!”

“I have made every effort to obey that authority.” Steve spoke calmly. “You asked me to step down and I did. But caring about other believers is a direct command. I can’t understand why you see that as a problem.” He spoke with emphasis. “That’s Christianity! Are you asking me to stop being a Christian?” He paused for a second. “I can’t do that.”

“What I’m asking you to do is to stop worming your way into people’s homes and stirring up trouble!”

“That’s not what I’ve been doing. I’m just trying to love people. And I have no interest in winning anyone over to anything except Jesus and His Ways. Why don’t you come with us, so you can see? We’d love to have your company. Seriously.”

“I’m asking you to stop your visits! If you can’t stop yourself from talking about these heretical, divisive, and legalistic topics, then I don’t want you to set foot in another Metro member’s house. Is that clear?!”

Steve was stunned. I can’t believe he’s saying this. God, what do I do now?

“IS that clear?!” Phil was insistent.

Steve searched for words, his heart racing. “Phil, if I can’t spend time with my brothers and sisters, then what does being a Christian mean?”

“Let me put it this way: if you can’t submit to the leadership of this congregation and the decisions they make, then you are NO longer welcome.”

“But Phil, it doesn’t have to be this way. Please listen.”

“Yes, Steve, it does have to be this way. Let me make it very clear: you are unwelcome at Metro! You are divisive, ambitious, and insubordinate. As a responsible leader of this Church, this is a step I have to take.”

Steve’s heart broke as his hand went limp. He could feel a lump form in his throat. He knew the Great Shepherd of the sheep was heartbroken, too. Yet, he also knew that strange peace which comes from nearness to God — the nearness that comes from following through hard times and pain.

77

“HEY, WHO MADE THIS potato salad?”

“I made it,” Virginia admitted from the kitchen. “Why? Is it okay?”

“Are you kidding? Don’t worry. It’s great!” Emily responded. “May I have the recipe?”

“Sure, it’s nothing special.”

After dinner, the children poured out the back door and onto the large, wooden swing set which rested in a fresh pile of sawdust. Ted had hung the final swing earlier that day. Emily and Wayne had both been surprised when Ted dropped by three days earlier as Wayne was leaving for work. He showed them a rough drawing of the swing set and asked if Blake could build it with him.

Blake was thrilled. He found Ted’s investment in him fun and educational. He loved the trip to the hardware store, the adventure of driving nails and using the hand saw. And tonight, he was eager to show Amanda and Marie all the features of his masterpiece. Wayne was thankful to have another brother caring for his son, and Ted was glad for the opportunity to use his light summer schedule to help.

Once the dishes were washed, the ladies made their way into the living room where the circle of men were listening as Eric described a conversation he’d had.

After Eric was finished and the ladies were all seated, Wayne asked, “Hey guys, could I run something past everyone?” Taking the silence as consent, he continued. “I have a unique opportunity that’s been thrown at me and I want to see what you guys think about it.”

“Fire away,” Ted invited.

“Tony has dropped a couple of hints about me being a waiter with him at Vito’s.” Wayne fiddled with the carpet he was sitting on. “I’ve never really taken him seriously. But it’s been on my mind a lot since we’ve recovered some ground with him. I wonder if it might provide a great chance to continue sharing the gospel with him.”

“How would it pay?” Ted inquired.

“With tips, it should come out about the same as I’m making now, which isn’t quite enough. But it could work for awhile. Who knows, maybe I have a future in restaurant management?” Wayne chuckled to himself. “I really wouldn’t be taking the job for the pay, but to spend more time with Tony.”

“Well, I don’t know why you shouldn’t,” Amy volunteered. “It sounds to me like a great idea.”

“Me, too,” Carolyn agreed.

After a brief pause George’s face grew serious as he spoke up. “I only have one concern.” George let his words trail slowly. “Are you sure you’re qualified? I mean, you’re not Italian.”

Wayne maintained his poker face, despite the laughter around him, and replied, “Didn’t you know, my mother’s maiden name was Marciano?”

78

THE PAPERS ON NELSON REYNOLDS’ desk were piled high. His hair was disheveled. His glasses were on the end of his nose.

“This is ridiculous. Everyone wants twice as much as we have.”

It was budget time at Metro. He had been in his office all day long and was growing increasingly annoyed by this painstaking part of his job.

Outside his closed office door, Reynolds’ secretary was busy preparing to leave for the day. She was exhausted, having spent her day preparing the bulletin and diverting the phone calls and visitors which threatened to interrupt her boss.

As she pulled her purse out of a desk drawer, she caught sight of Phil approaching, briefcase in hand. He was heading toward Reynolds’ door.

“Don’t go in there!” She was energetic. “He’s not seeing anyone today.”

“This is important!” He hesitated, looked at his watch, then continued on his path.

“Phil!” The tension in her voice was obvious. “Wait!…Don’t!”

It was too late. Phil had the door open and was inside before she had time to leave her seat.

Reynolds looked up from the piles of paper in front of him, then threw himself back into his chair. “Not today, Phil. I’m up to my ears in this budget stuff. I have no time.”

“I know. But this’ll be quick. It’s about Steve Parker.”

“So, what’s up with our friend, Mr. Parker?”

“He’s leaving.”

“Leaving Metro?”

“That’s right.”

“Oh, really.” Reynolds took off his glasses, wiped his forehead and closed his eyes. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this…Anything we can do to get him to stay?”

“I don’t think so, Nelson. To be honest, I’m not sure we want him to. Ever since you asked him to step down as home group leader, he’s been all over the place trying to propagate his Church fantasy nonsense.”

“You’re kidding.” Reynolds sighed. “Do you think anyone else will go with him? He has a lot of friends at Metro.”

“It’s possible.”

“Soooo,” Nelson stared into space, “what you’re telling me is we could lose that whole home group.” He paused again. “That could be $25,000 a year.”

Phil cringed. Although he thought in similar terms, he wasn’t accustomed to hearing it spoken out loud.

“We can’t have another contingent leaving us and going to Monument Street or Faith Christian.” Reynolds shook his head.

Phil allowed several seconds to pass. “Well, Nelson, we haven’t officially broken that home group apart. Maybe we should leave it intact. Some studies have shown that removing the support of a group atmosphere actually breeds discontentment. If we leave them together under strong leadership, we increase the odds that most of them will stay.”

Reynolds rapped his fingers on his desk, then looked at Phil. “I like the idea. Let’s keep them together. And how would you feel about stepping in as an interim home group leader — until the dust settles?”

Phil fought to keep the grin off his face. “Sure, Pastor, anything for the flock.”

79

“HELLO.” Catching the phone on its fourth ring, Steve hurriedly set his briefcase on the kitchen table and shut the door.

“They’re not gonna get away with this!” Fred’s voice roared on the other end of the line.

Steve sat down and collected his thoughts. “Fred, calm down. What’s the matter?”

“They asked you to leave, didn’t they?”

“Fred, that doesn’t matter…”

“Didn’t they?”

“Yes, but…”

“I thought so! I don’t like it one bit,” he snorted. “We’re on your side, Steve. In fact,” his voice raised, “some of us are thinking about leaving Metro Chapel and joining your group!”

“Fred, you’ve got to calm down.”

“I’m going to stand up for you, Steve. I’m going to give them a piece of my mind!”

“Fred, please. Listen to me.” Steve took off his tie and started pacing with the phone. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do. You’re a good friend. But to be honest, I don’t have a ‘group’ for you to join. You and I are joined together by God’s Spirit and by our commitment to each other. That’s a gift from God. No one could have legislated it into happening, and no one can destroy it now by organizational structure.”

Fred paused, collecting his thoughts. “That makes sense.”

“Now, as for leaving the home group — you have close relationships with people there. Do you really think Jesus wants you to bail out now?”

“But you left,” Fred objected.

“I was told to leave. That hasn’t happened to you, Fred. At least, not yet.”

“Well, I might be next after I talk with the pastors about how you were treated.”

“Fred, stand up for truth — not me!” Steve’s voice was firm, but gentle. “This needs to be about Jesus and His Word. Please, don’t reduce it to a quarrel about me. Let your convictions be from the Words of Jesus and the Apostles. Stand up for what Jesus’ Church must be — for Jesus’ sake!”

Steve could hear Fred squirming on the other end as he listened to Steve’s counsel. “Okay, okay. You’re right,” Fred relented. “So, do you think I should go to the home group meeting?”

“Yes. Give it a shot. Who is the new group leader? Do I know him?”

“You mean you haven’t heard?”

“No. Why?”

“It’s…” Fred hesitated for a second. “It’s Phil Malone.”

Ahhhhh. Steve’s heart sank. Now what?

Fred couldn’t stand the silence. “Hey, Steve, you all right?”

“I’m fine. I just had to look at Jesus for a second to get my balance. Sorry. Hey, Fred, be an ambassador of Christ tonight, as if God were making His appeal through you in whatever area of life that comes up tonight. Deal?”

“Okay. I’ll do it. Will you still be up if I need to call you late tonight?”

“If you think you need to, I’ll definitely be up.”

“BOY, HE WAS sure upset!”

“What was that, Wayne?” Emily asked with surprise as she walked into the bedroom.

“My father.”

“Did you just get off the phone with him?”

“Yeah, and he wasn’t happy about my new career path.” Wayne finished his sentence with sober thoughtfulness. Actually, his father’s reaction didn’t surprise him, though it did hurt. “He thinks I’m being financially irresponsible by deciding to be a waiter. I hate having him look down on me. I tried to explain my reasons from a Kingdom perspective, but he just didn’t understand. I wish he would accept my decisions and trust me.”

“Wayne, don’t be upset with him,” Emily pleaded. “He means well. He’s just never quite understood your heart for God.”

“I know, Em. But it’s not just my heart he doesn’t understand. It’s God’s heart. Dad’s been a church-goer for years. Yet letting Jesus be the Lord of daily decisions is still a foreign idea. I reminded him that Jesus said to seek first the Kingdom…not security. But Dad just kept talking about ‘stewardship’ and really didn’t want to consider the teachings of Jesus.”

Emily paused and let a brief silence prepare Wayne for her answer. “I agree with what you just said, wholeheartedly. But I’m still concerned with how it’s affecting you. You can’t allow anyone’s opinion of your honest desire to follow Jesus to cause you to become anxious. I know you want to uphold Jesus’ ways, but make sure your jealousy is really for the truth and not for your reputation in your father’s eyes. It’s Jesus’ opinion of you that matters.”

Wayne’s burden deflated as the simple truth sank in. “You’re right…you’re right, Em. Thanks.”

STEVE LAID THE SMALL BOOK DOWN on the end table by the recliner and got up to silence the telephone. Wow. 11:30.

“Hey, Steve, it’s Fred. Sorry I made you stay up so late.”

“No problem. I was reading an Andrew Murray book. Had no idea it was even this late.”

“Just wanted to let you know everything went okay tonight.”

“Really? Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

“Yeah, yeah. It went fine,” Fred stated abruptly, anxious to end the conversation.

“Anything noteworthy?”

“Nothing really. We just had our devotional and went home.”

“That was it?”

“Yep…Listen, Steve, I’d better go.”

“Whoaa, Fred! Is there something you’re not telling me?” Steve had known Fred for a long time. He knew something wasn’t right. “Did something happen to upset you?”

“Look, Steve, I really don’t want to get into all this.” Fred’s tone seemed curt.

“Fred, if you didn’t think you should talk about it, why did you call?”

“Because I keep my word.”

Lord, what is going on? Steve groped for words. “Fred, I don’t know what happened, but we can work it out. We’re friends, remember?”

“Friends! Well, that was before we heard the whole story.”

“Fred, what are you talking about? What whole story?” Steve’s heart sank again as the pieces began to fall into place. “What did Phil say tonight? Do you not love me enough to get a little more information before you shut me out and judge me guilty?”

“Listen! If you’ve got anything to say, you can take it up with the leadership at Metro Chapel.”

There was a loud click, and Steve was left holding the receiver, unable to move. Oh, God, help me! He laid his head against the wall.