When Josh's morning walk downtown ended up at the door to Paul's business, it almost felt like old times. Almost, but too much had transpired in the past few weeks for things to really be the same. He paused at the front steps, then opened the door. Betty glanced up from the papers she was working on, saw that it was Josh, and looked worried. Josh ignored the look.
"Morning, Betty. How are things going?"
"I'm sorry we haven't been back to church or to the group meetings," she hurriedly apologized. "Ed won't... I mean, we haven't... " She let her voice trail off.
"We've missed you," was all he said, aloud. His thoughts about Ed were not so casual. "Is Paul busy?"
"Of course, I'm busy," Paul called from his office. "I'm a successful businessman, aren't I?" He appeared in the doorway. "But since you're here and have already disrupted our office, you might as well come in."
Josh raised his eyebrows at Betty, who looked uncomfortable with their banter, then followed Paul into his office. As soon as the door closed, Paul's outward attitude changed.
"It's almost driving me crazy, having her out there, and not feeling I can do anything to help her." He pounded the desk a couple of times, not loudly but with feeling. "I'd like to strangle Ed!"
Josh sat. "That doesn't sound like what Jesus would do, but I know what you mean."
"Did I tell you that I talked to her?"
Josh sat up. "No, you certainly didn't. How did it go?”
Paul snorted, "It didn't go, at all. I just helped nurture her guilt trip a little bit." He described his aborted attempt to bring the subject out in the open.
Josh laughed. "Sorry. I know it isn't funny, but I have such a vivid picture in my mind of your conversation with her. She'd be two steps ahead of you the whole time, trying to take the blame or figure out how to make things right before she even knew what was wrong."
Paul grinned. "It was predictable, I guess." He sobered, immediately. "But I will try again. Now that I know what's going on, I have to try something!"
Josh's mood changed to match Paul's. "I know, and I feel the same way. Good luck, friend." He held out his hand, and Paul grasped it across the desk. They held on for some time, acknowledging a new depth to their friendship. They let go reluctantly, and just looked at one another for a few more moments before either spoke.
"I've come with my own problem," Josh volunteered, at last.
"So, what else is new?" Paul's attentiveness belied his flippancy. Josh ignored the gibe.
"I've been thinking a lot about future possibilities for me, Ev, and the kids, and I'm not sure that I know the right outcome from all this business. I don't want to lose, and I don't think God wants me to lose, either. On the other hand, I'm not sure I'm prepared to win."
Paul waited.
"The way I see it, the board has to take some action. We can't keep the status quo, right?"
"Right."
"Okay. As Donna said, we have the votes to win - if you can call it winning! - meaning that, if I agree to work closer with the board than I have been lately, and if I watch the church rules and regulations a little closer, nobody has any real gripes. Don and Mag may not be satisfied, but there's not a heck of a lot they can do about it. Right?"
Paul nodded.
"Okay, this is my problem. I'm not sure I can do that."
Paul looked puzzled. "You're not sure you can do what?"
Josh got up, and paced to the other side of the room. "I'm not sure I can agree to be a good church employee, and only do what the board agrees to." He turned back to face Paul. "I don't think I can guarantee to do anything in particular, anymore." He walked back, and sat down. "Frankly, I'm not sure that it's possible for me to be a pastor, and still do what Jesus would do!"
Paul whistled in surprise. “I think you need to explain that, Brother Josh!"
Josh opened his mouth, and closed it. He started again. "I'll try. I'm not sure I can." He took a breath. "My perception of God has changed tremendously in the past month or so. I never doubted He was there - that there really was a God - but I guess I didn't really know he was here! Knowing that He's here, and that He wants to have a direct part in how we lead our daily lives, has led me to question what I - what we - are doing in the church. Part of it is that I see the need for our worship to be more real, and less of a ritual. But that isn't all of it: the need to loosen up the services, I mean. I also see our church rules as actually inhibiting God's ability to work. Take the membership rule, for example. If I follow that, I deprive some fine Christians of their chance to worship freely with us. And I deprive other Christians of the spirit and wisdom of those who are not members."
"But the non-members can become members," Paul reminded him. "Then everything would be all right."
"But it wouldn't," Josh protested. "I thought so, too, but Harry and Bev explained it to me - why they can't join the church - and I know now that they're right."
"Explain it to me, then."
"Okay, I will. God doesn't require us to join a church, does he?"
Paul shook his head. "No, he certainly doesn't require it, but what does it hurt?"
"Well, for one thing, it's divisive, with each denomination more or less claiming to be the true and only church."
"I don't really think that's true, Josh. There are a few exceptions, sure, but I don't think most denominations are claiming to be better than anyone else. I think they just emphasize certain teachings, and people gravitate to what they are most comfortable with."
"But doesn't it turn out that we spend more time emphasizing the differences than the similarities?" Josh didn't wait for the response. "I think that's very important, but it really isn't the argument I was headed for. What Harry and Bev are concerned about is the string of compromises that results from us all bowing to the extra rules. I compromise as a pastor when I require people to pledge to our particular brand of Christianity before they can worship with us. If they don't, we lose them from the fellowship. If they do, they do it simply for form's sake, with no intention of obeying the rules they disagree with - which lessens both them and the church - or they give up some of their freedom to worship, with also lessens them and ultimately lessens the Body of Christ. They agree to worship only in a certain way, which ultimately leads to only worshipping with Christians who worship that same way, which further divides the various churches from one another."
Paul paused to formulate a response. "But what about church membership as an example of Christian obedience?"
"But what - or who - is it obedience to? Why do Christians need to prove themselves to anyone but God?"
Paul shook his head. "I don't know, Josh. I guess I don't have a good response for you. I just believe that the organization of church - the discipline of church - is important."
Josh shrugged, but smiled. "I don't know; maybe so. But I really don't think that it's been the kind of organization or discipline that we need." He paused. "And I guess there's one other thing that worries me, even more than what we've been talking about."
"What's that?"
Josh took it slowly. "I worry that the denomination has the ability to go a lot farther than just requiring church membership. Think about the way Del reacted to our prayer sessions. There isn't a denominational rule against "speaking in tongues,’ but there would be if Del had anything to say about it! And there are denominations that do have such rules, already. Chuck wasn't so adamant, but he was pretty uncomfortable. What if they bring it before ‘Denomination,’ and there's agreement that the church needs to take a stand against such practices? We've bowed to the membership rule; do we go on and tell God that we won't worship Him in a certain way because we're being obedient?"
When Paul didn't say anything, Josh went on. "I couldn't do that, Paul, no matter how much I wanted to be a pastor, or how I felt about the church, overall. And I'm afraid I could really be called to make that choice."
"Maybe you're borrowing trouble, Josh; worrying about things that will probably never happen."
"I could be, but the crux of the matter for me is that the denomination can - and sometimes does - make rules that are at best extra-Christian, but that could become counter-Christian or even anti-Christian. It seems to me that, as a pastor, I'll be constantly battling between what the denomination wants and what God wants."
Paul was silent for a moment. "What's the alternative?" he asked, finally.
Josh shook his head. "As Hamlet so famously noted, 'Aye, there's the rub!' Ev asked the same thing, and I've asked myself the same thing about six thousand times in the last couple days! After all that, I still don't know specifically what the alternative is, but I know that there is one."
Paul gave a small smile. "Well, good luck, friend."
Josh gave him his hand. "Thanks, friend."
***
Paul sat quietly for some time after Josh left, alternately thinking about Josh, and Betty. In most ways, he knew it was a rotten time to take on Betty and her problem again, but the need to confront the situation grew in him the longer he sat. Finally, he called her in. He didn't give her any chance to set up a defense.
"Betty, I know for a fact that Ed has been abusing you."
Her face went pale, but she didn't speak to either affirm or deny his charge.
"It has to stop, Betty, for your sake and for his."
Still, she didn't respond. She stood very quietly in front of his desk, head hung much like (he thought) a naughty child being chastised by a parent. He felt his frustration growing.
"Betty, talk to me. Please!"
"I can't," she whispered, without looking at him.
"Yes, you can. You must."
She stayed silent.
"Betty!" He didn't shout, but he said her name so forcefully that she jumped. Her eyes met his for a moment, and he saw tears beginning to form. He arose and came halfway around the desk toward her. He sat on the edge of his desk. "Betty," he repeated, gently this time, "You need to get this out in the open. You can't carry it by yourself. You - both of you - need help."
"There's nothing to be done," she whispered, her head bowed and her eyes hidden from him, again.
"You're wrong, Betty. There are things to be done. You can get protection, and Ed can get help."
She shook her head.
"Betty," he pleaded, "There are people who are trained in these situations - people who not only can help you, but who can help Ed, so he doesn't need to do what he does."
She didn't respond.
"Betty, he's a sick man."
She looked at him this time, and spoke with an unusual firmness. "No, he's not sick. He doesn't mean to hurt me. He just..." She struggled for words, and her positiveness deserted her. "Life isn't easy for him. He just gets frustrated, sometimes," she ended, lamely.
Paul felt his own frustration growing, and he fought not to sound angry. "But, Betty, everyone has bad days. Not everyone takes them out on someone else. It isn't natural to hurt our loved one, when things don't go right."
He waited for a response, but none came. "Well, is it?" he asked.
"He doesn't mean to hurt me," she whispered.
"But the point is that he does hurt you! You shouldn't accept that, Betty, don't you see? You don't have to accept it. "
She didn't say anything, just stood in her naughty child pose. Paul mentally threw up his hands in defeat. "Okay, Betty, you can go. But please think about - pray about - what I said. We can get help for both of you."
She turned and walked to the doorway without looking up. “I think I need to go home for a while," she said, very quietly. "Would that be all right?"
"Sure," said Paul, to her back. "Sure, why not?" he repeated to himself, and to the closing door.
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