The Wanderer for Wonderwhat (13)

(Parts 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17)

To strain against the current
“If you become a 501-c3 tax exempt organization, you’re going to have to face some harsh realities my friend.”
The Church Thug and his wife sat with the Wanderer and his wife and looked at each other across the table of a Shoney’s. The Church Thug smiled and shook his head, like a man who was trying to inform a child about the facts of life. He dug his fork into his chicken fried steak and waited until his mouth was full to resume talking.
“We’ve learned a lot of hard lessons along the way. We used to be idealists, just like yourself.” The Church Thug said, holding his fork in one hand, and pushing his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose with the other.

The Wanderer said nothing; he just looked at soft, middle aged man with curly hair sitting across from him. Their conversation had been interrupted several times as the Church Thug took calls on his cellular phone. The Church Thug’s wife was mostly silent, never really looking up from her plate of salad. She would nod in agreement and only chime in to repeat something the Church Thug had said first.
“I’m just saying, people will let you down.”
“They will let you down, it’s true.” The Church Thug’s wife would say.

A pastor whom the Wanderer felt he could trust had arranged this meeting. He had expressed his dismay at navigating the process of filing for tax-exempt status to the pastor, and had asked for advice. The friendly pastor had arranged for this meeting with the Church Thug. But now, the Wanderer was wondering if he’d been set up.
It had started out all right. In getting to know each other, they had exchanged small talk, divulging shared interests and points of view. But as the Wanderer began to unfold his particular vision for how a church could be, the conversation took a decidedly different direction.
It was quite evident that the Church Thug did not agree with the Wanderer on the finer points of simplifying church structure. And it was also clear that the Church Thug now felt it was his own obligation to set the Wanderer right.

The Church Thug set his fork down, and leaned in across the table, scrutinizing the Wanderer. “This little endeavor of yours sounds really nice.” He said with a patronizing smile. “But I’m here to tell you that it’s not realistic in the least.”
The Wanderer finished up his plate of food, put down his fork as well, and pushed his plate to the side. It was as though two opponents were readying themselves for a rumble.
“How so?” he said, looking up at the Church Thug.
“Dividing up leadership, keeping no membership, and not taking up offerings, just for a start. Things just don’t work that way.” He said with a derisive chuckle. “I’m tellin’ you, people will let you down. You’re assuming too much about what church people are willing to do and give. If you don’t call the shots, and warn them to tow the line, they won’t. They just flat won’t!”

The Wanderer never took his eyes off the Church Thug. Here was the enemy, as much as any man had ever represented him. All he had wanted was a little bit of practical advice, but like everything else he had discovered along the way, this too came at a price. The Wanderer could feel his face flushing, and his eyes watering. He hated that every emotion he felt became so visible on his face.

The Church Thug continued, “I realize that this is hard news to take, but son, you’ve got to face it. All the stuff that’s spiritual and uplifting about church is like…well; it’s like advertising. It’s the stuff we want everyone to see and appreciate about church, but there’s more to it than that. You’ve got to face it son, there is a dark underbelly to the church, that idealists like yourself don’t like to acknowledge. But it’s there; yessir’, it’s there.
He leaned in even closer, and locked eyes with the Wanderer.
“You have got to realize that the church is first and foremost a business, and you have to treat it like that. You have to think about revenue and expansion or your little endeavor will just flat out fail. You better take what I’m saying seriously, and save yourself and your family a lot of trouble.”

The Wanderer never looked away, but steadied his gaze on the Church Thug’s eyes. He was mad, most of all with himself, that he couldn’t hide his emotions better. He could feel a full-fledged tear rolling down his cheek. But he didn’t announce it by wiping at it. “Let it roll”, he thought, “maybe it will go unseen.”

He had formulated his response while the Church Thug had looked away to scoop the last of his mashed potatoes into his mouth. When he looked up from his plate, the Wanderer said, “Maybe you’re right, but I’m counting on you being wrong. One thing I know for sure: if you are right, then I won’t have anything to do with church ever again. If the church has to think like you, and look the way you describe it, then I will walk away and never look back again.”
He got up, his wife following, and grabbed the bill from the middle of the table.
“Thanks for your time, I appreciate your attempt at helping.” Said the Wanderer, and walked to the register to pay the bill, then headed out into the cool evening air.

“Can you believe that guy?” The Wanderer’s wife exploded. “Who does he think he is, the Pope?”
They stopped in front of their car, and the Wanderer looked at his wife.
“It’s either real, or it’s not. I mean; church is either really supposed to be here by God’s design, or its not. For that guy, it’s not real, so he’s had to manufacture something that will stand in place of church. I think there are a lot of people who do that. But I can’t…I won’t. It’s either real, and going to be real, or it’s not, and I’m done.”

The Wanderer looked back across the parking lot at the Church Thug and his wife as they exited the restaurant.
“It is real, you’ll see.” Said the Wanderer quietly.

Several years later…
They drove past the building on their way home from a family trip. They hadn’t been that way in a long time, so it took them both by surprise.
The church building that the Church Thug had built stood empty and abandoned. Weeds grew up along the edges of the structure, and decorated the cracks in the parking lot. Full sheets of plywood covered the glass doors at the entrance. The amount of weathering they showed indicated that the building had been unoccupied for quite some time.
A large sign announced in big red letters: for sale.

“It’s either real, or it’s not.” Whispered the Wanderer as he watched the building disappear in his rear view mirror.