Light Through a Rusty Roof (eBook)
274 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
978-1-6678-2231-0 (ISBN)
What happens when the reality you face doesn't align with the narratives of "e;truth"e; you've trusted up to this point? What if the destination you thought you were headed toward is not manifesting the way you hoped, is it possible to change course without disrupting the life you have built? Maybe the life you've built isn't what you feel calling you, but it's the life you know and makes you feel safe. "e;Light Through a Rusty Roof"e; is a captivating novel about life's wonderfully complex journey. Follow along as one man must wrestle with his identity as he experiences doubt, struggle, and growth. Can love conquer fear when it requires a leap of faith?In this unfolding adventure, Rev. Peter's life is turned upside down. A Southern pastor in midlife, he finds himself facing a daily struggle with fatigue, disillusionment, doubt, and cynicism. His hopes shrink, relationships contract, dreams fall apart, and transformative faith shrivels into a small, old box of institutionalism. As he encounters "e;the Others,"e; his experiences with them are...unexpected. And their reality is challenging everything he knows to be "e;true."e; The journey may save his faith - if it doesn't destroy him first! Can he find the courage to abandon his sense of stability, embrace new friends, and choose a new beginning?
Chapter 1
Rev. Peters
Within his mind, the battle for meaning raged incessantly. What is life all about, and is all this effort worth it? Do I contribute anything, and is life significant at all? Do the actions and things I have contributed make for any lasting change or difference? These questions and more swirled constantly in the mind of Rev. Michael Peters. As he sat in his office awaiting a family interested in joining the church, he pondered. Pondering might be too gentle a term. He used to ponder, but now it seems to have grown into something else. He wrote it off as a mid-life crisis: boredom, being stuck in a rut, the daunting awareness that the world was leaving him behind. At the age of fifty-three years old, Rev. Peters was feeling spent.
He looked at his watch. “Damn it! They’re late. They are always late!”
“They” being everyone. His thoughts came back around to church work and people. Oh, God! People! Everyone is only thinking of themselves and their schedules. They use the church; after all, it’s free. I hate it when people show up late, and they always show up late. They want to join because they like social connections, business relationships, and they need help raising their kids. But the gospel? Oh, Jesus is “cool” and everything, but only as long as he’s contributing toward their comfort. You know, Jesus is our long-range retirement plan, and boy do we love him for that.
“Where could they be?” He questioned. “I’ll give them ten more minutes!”
As the ten minutes passed, adding to the twenty minutes he’d been waiting, he found himself wringing his hands. He used to love meeting with people, especially those joining the church. They are the heart of why he entered into this service. But these days, church work is all about the numbers. After all, numbers are an indication of success. Numbers equate to funding, and funding equates to ministries and missions. Ministry and missions bring you popularity and power. He knew that most people would never be able to relate to the trappings of pastoral success, for they never equate pastoral ministry with worldly ambitions. But, pastors like to be noticed, to feel important, and to be acknowledged for their extraordinary ability to change the world. Pastors point to a Savior; but, deep inside, they want to be the “savior” themselves . . . without the self-sacrifice and death stuff. For Rev. Peters, leading a church had become routine, somewhat like running a machine; the longer you’re in, the more irrelevant you become. You go through the motions, say the right things, make people happy, comfort them and convince them everything will be OK. You administrate, calm hurt feelings, apologize for stepping on toes, and repeat. But for Rev. Peters, this race had run its course, and the anxiety and frustration with it had brought him to a breaking point.
Why the hell am I still sitting here? he thought, when a tap at the door garnered his attention. “Finally!” he whispered. As Rev. Peters turned the doorknob, his whole demeanor shifted and he put on the cloak of his profession.
“Rob and Margie! How are you doing? I’m so happy you were able to join me today. And, I’m even more excited about you becoming a member of the church.”
The young couple played their role as well, explaining,
“So sorry we’re late, pastor. We had to wait for the babysitter. We didn’t want the kids to be a disturbance for this important meeting. We love being a part of First United and can’t wait to get involved.”
Rev. Peters knew this was all a bunch of fluff, but he always goes with it. Occasionally, someone does take the church and its work seriously. Those folks are usually run off within a year as the ancient “gate keepers” stifle any effort at real progress. “We can’t have those ‘rabble-rousers’ around here trying to change things!” the gate keepers proclaim, and continue, “I mean, God only knows what kind of riff-raff we might bring through the doors by reaching out to our neighborhood. We are, after all, in a dangerous area!”
While this kind of thinking always caused Rev. Peters to question the church’s work, it also brought with it a certain amount of comfort. He might preach a ton of sermons about love and radical hospitality, but deep down inside, he liked the church the way it was, just as with his congregants who’ve settled for comfort. Surrounding yourself with people like you is a hell of a lot easier than having to get to know those different from yourself. Real ministry takes work, effort, vulnerability, and risk. The good Reverend didn’t have that much adventure left in him. He told himself he just needed to keep it going, bring them in, maintain the buildings, be a presence in the community, and for God’s sake, don’t mess it up with any radical shit!
“Rev. Peters?” the couple asked, interrupting his reverie.
“Oh yes. I’m sorry, it’s been a long day and I’ve been finding myself drifting a bit. Let’s get you plugged in!”
He began the conversation with the history of the church and its mission to the community. A task of self-preservation and hip programing. He explained how the church moved from being “uptown” to “downtown.” He spoke of the excellent security systems they had in place and the armed guards protecting worshipers every Sunday from “potential hazards.” He walked them through the historic vows of membership and their responses they would recite as he brought them before the church that Sunday. He shared the background check and financial disclosure sheets required for liability reasons through the denomination. He discussed the new protective measures for coming to public worship due to a few years of pandemic pandemonium. Last, he set up on the “automatic tithe transfer system,” which immediately withdraws funds from one’s account and deposits them directly into the church system. He loved ATTS!
Rev. Peters smiled, “Do you have any further questions?”
The young couple shifted in their seats a bit but responded, “Nope, we’re ready to go!”
“That’s great,” Peters replied. “After we finish up, you’re practically in. Just need you to show up one Sunday morning to go through all the I do’s and I will’s.”
He always loved saying that. As if the process of joining the church didn’t require anything more, which was at the root of his dilemma—the church he had been a part of didn’t require anything more. He had liked to think of himself as a progressive social justice advocate and had even marched in a few protests. His involvement in such things gave him some self-worth to keep him connected to something changing the world. He would often tell people. “If you want to know what it feels like to be alive, march in a protest.” People would laugh and respond, “We love that you are so involved in helping all people!” That always made him feel better about himself. Rev. Peters was just involved enough to say he was “involved,” but distant enough that there was no risk. If you can move gracefully into these positions, all would like you, and it wouldn’t require much of anything.
Margie and Rob had left the office when he came back to his senses. He had found himself so deep in thought throughout their discussion that he couldn’t even remember what day they had said they’d like to join the church. Oh well, he thought, That’s why you have an admin! As he got up out of his chair, he looked around at his office. The walls were covered with shelves of books, crosses, religious trinkets, photos of trips worldwide, an old dusty bottle of holy water he scooped from the Jordan River along with hundreds of other tourists in the Holy Land, and pictures of his family. Rev. Peters had a spouse, and together they had a son. He felt the need to get back home, so he straightened his desk, turned off his office light, and closed the door.
As he walked down the hall and entered the front office, he could see through the windows that it was a relatively beautiful evening. There was a breeze and a warm orange glow in the sky. It was one of those afternoons where the day’s dust and haze had caught the fading sunlight just right. It seemed that everything was good in the world, and that’s when Rev. Peters saw him. He was standing at the corner of the parking lot, walking in tiny circles as if he had something to do but couldn’t figure out the way to make it happen. His anxious movements made Rev. Peters feel uncomfortable.
Maybe if I pretend I have something to do in here, this man might go away. He had seen this man before, and even gave him a name: “the Grey Man.” The Grey Man was tall, about six foot six, and wore dark slacks, beat-up sneakers, an old “Goonies” T-shirt, and a full-length trench coat. His hair was short and cut close to his head; his skin was, well, grey. Several times over the past year, Rev. Peters had seen the Grey Man walking around the church and community. It appeared as if he always had someplace urgent to go. Lately, though, Rev. Peters had seen him hanging around the church, and sometimes it seemed as if the man was staring at him. That cold stare with grey steel eyes and the grey-toned skin gave Peters the chills. What’s this guy up to? Is he unbalanced? Should I be concerned? Is it time to call the police?
In an effort to avoid the man outside, Rev. Peters returned to his office to wait him out. He walked around his desk and plopped down in...
| Erscheint lt. Verlag | 11.1.2022 |
|---|---|
| Sprache | englisch |
| Themenwelt | Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen |
| ISBN-10 | 1-6678-2231-4 / 1667822314 |
| ISBN-13 | 978-1-6678-2231-0 / 9781667822310 |
| Informationen gemäß Produktsicherheitsverordnung (GPSR) | |
| Haben Sie eine Frage zum Produkt? |
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