Josh Felton sat back in his recliner, hands clasped on top of his head, gazing sightlessly into space. In the last six hours he had turned on the lamp beside his chair (without remembering doing it), missed an important church business meeting (without remembering it until a few moments ago), and read a paperback novel. He remembered the novel.
He smiled as an old comic routine by Shelley Berman popped into his head. Rifling through the seat pocket of an airplane, Berman talked of finding, among other things, "a forgotten Erskine Caldwell novel - as if anyone could forget an Erskine Caldwell novel." Stop it, Josh, you're punchy!
Actually, it wasn't that kind of novel. It was a reprint of a very old and apparently very famous Christian novel, called "In His Steps," written by the minister Charles Sheldon. The book cover said that it had been read by as many people as had read any other book in the history of the world. Even given the habit of paperback publishers to exaggerate the content and/or significance of their products, that must make it pretty well known. Surprisingly, Josh had never read it, and in fact wasn't sure he had even heard of it until a few days before.
He had been browsing through a book of stories and anecdotes from which he regularly got material to liven up his sermons, and had run across an article on Sheldon and "In His Steps." Sheldon had increased the attendance at his church phenomenally by writing and then reading to his congregation a serialized religious novel. He read a chapter a week, and at the end of each reading he left his hero or heroine dangling on the edge of disaster, just like "The Perils of Pauline,” or Buck Rogers serials at the old Saturday matinees. Josh's source book said that this unconventional and innovative technique had brought the people flocking into the church, week after week. Some of the serialized sermons had ended up as "In His Steps." Josh could hardly wait to get downtown for a copy.
Now, after midnight in the nearly dark and very quiet house, he thought about what he'd read. He didn't think it was very good. The writing was stilted, the characters were contrived, and the situations positively archaic. It wouldn't pack them in, anymore. Still, he had sat there and read it cover to cover in one sitting. There must be something to it!
It's an interesting idea, anyway; very interesting. He unclasped his hands, wiggled his fingers around a little bit, pulled himself up out of the chair, turned off the light, and went to bed.
* * *
He didn't sleep well in what was left of the night, and was wide awake at 7 a.m. It wasn't unusual for him to sleep a little restlessly when the house was empty, but he suspected this time it was partly because he'd been dreaming about the book. Now, as he lay in bed, he wasn't thinking of Sheldon, or of the book itself; he was thinking about the packed church every week. He could have the same results as Sheldon, if he worked it right!
Come on, Josh," he asked himself. "Do you really need more people at church? Maybe it would even be nice to have fewer for a change: fewer people equals less work, less planning, fewer meetings, etc., etc., etc.
No, he wanted more. Despite winning all the district Sunday School attendance championships in recent years, and despite having a respectable number of attendees at every church function, he always thought in terms of increase. It didn't seem like he was really fulfilled unless he was planning for something just a little bit bigger than the last time.
He pulled himself up from the bed, did a few quick exercises, and headed for the shower. While shaving, he thought about the book. It isn't good. It's stiff, old, and unreal. He tossed an English muffin in the toaster, and put the teapot on to heat. With peanut butter on the muffin and a cup of instant coffee, he headed for his study and the book. Casually, he thumbed through it, reading here and there as he ate his quickie breakfast. Nope, it isn't good. And yet... By the time the muffin was gone, he was really excited, again. He reached for the phone, and dialed Paul Grayson. At 9 a.m., he was walking into Paul's office, downtown.
"Have you read 'In His Steps'?" he asked, without preamble.
"Hello to you, too. How are the wife and kids? And have I read in whose steps?"
"Okay, my friend, I'll play your game. Hello to you, too. The wife and kids are fine, and off to visit Grandma. So now, have you read 'In His Steps'?"
"In His Steps?"
"The book."
"The book?"
"The book called 'In His Steps'."
"Oh, that book!" Paul finally motioned Josh to sit down, and did so, himself. "No, can't say I ever heard of it. New?"
"No, old; in fact, really old. After I read it, I got a great idea."
Paul leaned back and waited. Nothing followed. Apparently, he was supposed to fish. "Okay, what great idea did you get?"
Now Josh leaned back, savoring the growing certainty that he really was on to something. "It's an idea about how to increase church attendance, but to do it in a really novel way."
"Do we need more people in church?" Josh didn't bite. "Okay, so what's the book about?"
Josh was on his way. "Oh, it's about a bunch of church members who take a pledge not to do anything for a full year without first considering what Jesus would do in the same circumstances. Sheldon, the author, follows several of them through the year, in and out of various situations. He used the book as a series of sermons, reading a chapter each Sunday night, and leaving off with some cliffhanger situation to entice people back the next Sunday."
"Like Buck Rogers, at the Saturday matinee."
"Exactly. I read an account about Sheldon and his technique. They say it really worked. He really packed them in."
Paul thought about that. "So, you want to read the book in church?"
"No, no," Josh got up and wandered over to the window, formulating his thoughts. He turned back, and Paul could see that the excitement was growing. "No, I thought about that at first, but it wouldn't work, anymore. I read the book last night and, candidly, I can't figure out why it's still a best-seller. It isn't very good. It's too old, too full of clichés, and isn't anything our people would be able to relate to." He paused for effect. "No, I don't want to read Sheldon. I want to write my own!"
Paul whistled. "Could you?"
Josh looked to see if he was kidding. He couldn't tell. "Well, yes, I think I could. I've written quite a few things in my life. What I'm thinking about would just involve creating a few characters in modern settings, and taking them through their paces."
Paul frowned. "! haven't read this book, Josh, so I don't know exactly what's in it. But if you want to write about the real world, you're going to have to write about the real world. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Now, Josh frowned. "I'm not sure. What are you saying: that I couldn't write it?"
"Not necessarily. No, that's not what I'm saying, at all. You could write something, all right, but... Oh, all right, here goes Mr. Diplomat charging right in. Do you really know what the world is like, out there? I understand it's a jungle!" Josh grimaced at him, but Paul was committed now. "Seriously, Josh, it you're going to relate to our people - particularly the young people, because I assume that's who you're thinking about - you've got to 'tell it like it is.' You know: drugs, sex, rock-and-roll, violence..." A random picture flashed through his mind, and ended his seriousness. "Not too much for Mrs. Hoddy, of course."
Josh just stared at him for a moment, then they both had to laugh. Mrs. Hoddy was a very nice, but very straight-laced, member of the congregation, who had been one of the mainstays of the church for years and years. It was possible to offend her generation, it seemed, just by changing the order of the service. Her reaction to sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll was beyond comprehension!
The tension was broken, and now Josh could think seriously about Paul's question. Could he do it? "Yes. Sure, I can. I've been around, haven't I?"
Paul raised his eyebrows. Josh started to protest, but the query was rapidly turning to a smile.
"That means I have your blessing, right? Right. Okay, here goes nothing!”
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