ESCAPE - Chapter 9

   Tuesday morning I was in the office. I was looking on the internet for some material for my sermon for next Sunday, “Soli Deo Gloria”. I asked Diane if Mr. Bigelow left my check at the office.

   “No. He said that he was going to deposit it in your checking account at the bank.”

   “Why? He has never done that before.”

   “I don’t know. Just to aggravate you, I guess.”

   A middle aged man came to the office and asked to see the preacher and just barged right into my office. He was wiry, his face weathered and dirty and his jeans, plaid shirt, Levi jacket, and boots were grimy. He smelled of old sweat and grime. He was carrying a small bag. I asked him his name.

   “Corporal Wallace G. Simonton, Sarge.”

   He went on and on in some rambling dialogue about the Army and the Veterans Administration and then at times he seemed to be on a battlefield. I interrupted,

   “Hey, Buddy, have you had breakfast yet? How about some pancakes and coffee?”

   “Sarge, can you add some sausage to those rations?”

   “Yep, let’s go.”

   I said to the secretary,

   “Call Dr. Rumfeldt and tell him I am bringing him someone I want him to see, but the man probably won’t sit still in a waiting room.”

   I took the homeless man to the local pancake house and ordered pancakes, sausage, and coffee for both of us. Before I ate, I bowed my head and thanked God for the food and asked him to bless my new friend. When I finished praying the man joined me in saying “Amen”. We both ploughed into our food. I enjoyed the pancakes and sausage most of the time.

    Occasionally the man’s odor wafted over the table to me and I almost gagged. After we ate and as we were leaving, I said,

   “Why don’t I take you to see a doctor friend of mine and let him give you a quick check-up?”

   “Okay.”

   That was easier than I expected. We drove over to Dr. Rumfeldt’s office. As soon as we walked in the door, Nurse Nancy Friborg escorted us back to an examination room.

   “Sir, you’ll have to take off your jacket, shirt, and boots so the doctor can examine you. Reverend Sterner, you can wait out in the waiting room.”

   In about fifteen minutes Dr. Rumfeldt came out to see me.

   “Joshua, that guy is nuttier than a fruit cake. I called the Veterans Administration Hospital in Little Rock and told them that I was referring him to their care. If you will just take him up there, they will admit him.”

   “Thank you, Doctor.”

   A few minutes later, the Corporal joined me in the waiting room. It was obvious that someone, probably Nancy, had gone after his face, neck, arms, and hands with soap and water. His hair had also been combed.

   “The doctor wants me to take you to the VA Hospital in Little Rock where they specialize in treating military men.”

   “Yeah, I know all about the VA. See, I have a VA card in my wallet.”

   I took my new friend on the two hour drive to Little Rock. He did not seem as odoriferous, or maybe I was becoming accustomed to the scent. If I thought that I was going to drop him off and then head for home, I was badly mistaken. There was a room full of mostly men seated in front of a long reception desk. I walked up to it with Wallace and started,

   “I have brought this man here on a referral from Dr. Rumfelt.”

   “Take a number and wait until you are called.”

   We took a number and sat in chairs waiting to be called. Wallace’s number was 117. I heard them call 58. An hour went by and they were only up to 73.

   “Preacher, I’m getting hungry.”

   We left the room and looked for a cafeteria. We found signs pointing to the cafeteria and followed them. Wallace was carrying his bag. Even when we went through the cafeteria line, he carried the bag in one hand and his tray in the other. I couldn’t watch because his hand was trembling and I was sure he would drop the tray.

   Back in the waiting room they were just up to 100. We had been waiting about half an hour when Wallace got out of his seat and walked up to the front. He engaged in a heated argument with one of the women. Just then I saw a security guard coming in a door in the front. Wallace saw him too. He reached into his bag and came out with a large pistol.

   “IT IS MY TURN NOW! DO YOU UNDERSTAND? I AM TIRED OF WAITING!”

   He never pointed the pistol. He was just waving it around. The security guard knocked it out of his hand and threw Wallace to the floor. He put handcuffs on him and took him out of the room. I got up and left and went out to my car. It smelled of Wallace. Wallace was right, it was his turn now.

   I arrived back in town just as Diane was closing the office. She gave me the messages and I briefly recounted the story of Wallace.

   “You mean he had a gun in our office and in Dr. Rumfeldt’s office and none of us knew it?”

I went home, took a bottle of Febreze out to the car and sprayed it generously on the upholstery and the rugs. When I returned to the house, I took off my suit and put it into a bag to take to the dry cleaner’s. The rest of my clothes I took to the laundry room.

   When I looked through the mail there was an envelope with Molly’s name in the return address. Inside were a letter from Billy and a letter from Polly. I looked through my note cards for two with appropriate pictures. I picked one with a picture of an Indian teepee and a horsefor Billy. Polly’s card had a picture of a girl in pigtails running through a field of flowers. I wrote a letter to each one in their card. I put a dollar for ice cream money in each of the cards. I addressed the cards to them instead of their mother. That will make them feel grown up!

   On Wednesday morning, I called Joe Sheetz and told him what the treasurer, Mr. Bigelow had done with my check. He said,

   “Give me the phone number of Mr. Bigelow and the bank. I’ll handle this.”

   In about an hour a sheepish Mr. Bigelow came to the office with my check. I found out that the bank had not deposited it, but had just held on to it. They were going to call me if I didn’t come in for it.

   I went back to where I left off yesterday looking for sermon material. I looked on the internet and then I used my Bible program on the computer. When I began in the ministry I used to have a thick concordance open on one side of the desktop and a Bible open on the other side with my notebook in the middle. I would write my sermons in long hand, then Laura would type them for me.

   After lunch I went to the hospital to visit a member, Mr. Harry Temple, who was having gall bladder surgery the next morning. We chatted. He was sorry to be missing out on deer season this year. He had killed a deer every year for ten years.

   “I always quit hunting, hang up my rifle, whenever I kill one deer. That is all the deer meat my wife and I can use. No sense being greedy, save some deer for the other hunters. That’s my notion.”

   I had prayer with him and was going down the hall. A gaunt woman in a worn dress and torn sneakers came out of one of the rooms.

   “Preacher, come in here and pray over my boy, please.

   “My name is Doris Hammaker. This is my boy Tommy.”

   “Hi, Tommy. You must be in middle school, at least.”

   “Yes, sir. I’m in eighth grade this year. I was hoping to play on the baseball team in high school. Now, the doctor says I may have to lose part of this leg.”

   He pointed to his left leg.

   “They found a ‘reckless’ spider crushed inside his jeans leg. I had gone to that Community Clothes Closet the Baptist Church has. It is only open on Tuesdays from 2-4 p.m. I went there as soon as it opened to try to find a pair of jeans in his size. His other pair was so ragged that he was embarrassed to wear them. When he came home from school and saw them, he was so excited that he ran into his room and put them on right away. They say the 'reckless' spider must have been hiding in the leg of the jeans. They only bite when they are trapped and being crushed. Their bite is like a rattlesnake. The doctors are going to look at his leg again tomorrow and then decide whether they have to take it off.”

   Tears came to my eyes. I prayed for Tommy Hammaker,

   “Lord, I know how much my Philip liked to play baseball. I pray that Tommy will have that same opportunity. Lord, you had pity upon that woman in Cain who only had her one son. Have pity upon Mrs. Hammaker. Please spare Tommy’s leg and Tommy’s life. Add Your blessing to the medicine he is receiving. Please I beg this in the name of Your Son. Amen.”

   “Thank you, Preacher, but I’m not a Missus. Tommy’s father left me without lookin’ back.”

   “Please let me know how things turn out for Tommy.”

   All the way home I thanked the Lord for bringing me to the hospital and letting me meet the Hammakers.

   There was still time so I went to the Assisted Living Center. There were several of our members there. One of them was Ruby Garnet. She had one son who lived in Little Rock. He came to see his mother a couple times a month. I wondered how she occupied her time. Sometimes she sat in a rocker on the porch when there was pleasant weather. Sometimes she sat in a rocker in a sort of lounge for the residents. When she lived at home she crocheted and quilted in addition to all the usual chores of keeping a house. Now she didn’t crochet, quilt, or do any other craft. She was a very interesting person to talk with.

   She remembered the old days and ways that have passed from the scene. The church had a Sunday School and there was a high school girl who drove a big wagon drawn by two horses to pick up kids from the various farms. Trucks were new. There were only several in the county. This girl would pretend she was driving a truck. When they would come to a hill, she would pretend to be shifting down in the gears. Ruby’s uncle was the postmaster of a post office in his country store. She remembers that bottles of whiskey and boxes of baby chicks would be sent through the mail.

   Lonnie Farrell is probably in his nineties. When he was sixteen, both of his parents died in the flu epidemic. There were twelve children including him. The county was going to take all the children and the bank was going to take the farm. Somehow, he was able to keep the children and the farm. He had a team of horses. During the day he would haul logs for the loggers, hay for farmers, and work the crops on his own land. At night he would go up and down the county roads and the town streets picking up the bodies of flu victims. The corpses would be out by the curb or on the side of the road. He would take them to the funeral home. He also helped the funeral director bury the bodies since no one else would touch the bodies. Lonnie raised all of his brothers and sisters before he allowed himself to get married.

   Lillian Parker is a minister’s widow. When her husband died, she started a career as a school teacher. She is a very intelligent woman. She knows Latin and has read many of the Latin classics. She is also very learned in the Bible. She reads my sermons (I mail them to the shut-ins). When I visit her she has questions about the sermons that are really hard for me to answer. She loves to play Bingo on Bingo nights at the Center.

   I went home very happy that evening.

   After supper I looked for a book to read. I spied The Hobbit on the bookshelf, took it down and was soon lost in the fantasy world created by Tolkien.

ESCAPE - Chapter 8

   Sunday morning I was nervous. That seemed to help the delivery of my sermon. The attendance was about normal, maybe a little more people than usual. Before the service began I saw the Reverend Joe Sheetz sitting in the rear. I asked him if I could call on him for the Benediction.

   “No. If you usually recognize visitors, say I am Mr. Joe Sheetz visiting from Louisiana.”

   At the end of the service I pronounced the benediction, announced that the congregational meeting would now begin. I waited while a few people slipped out of the church. Then I opened the congregational meeting with prayer. After that I stated that a quorum was present. I asked Mr. Fike to be secretary and keep the minutes of the meeting. 

   I then told the congregation that I was requesting that the Presbytery dissolve the pastoral relations between me and this church as of November 30. My reasons were that the rumors that had gone around town after the death of my wife were making it difficult to continue to be a pastor here. Also, I have not been able to grieve her loss because of all the controversy.

   “I will now entertain a motion to tell Presbytery that the congregation is agreeable or that it is not agreeable to my request. We will then vote on the motion. If a motion to agree passes, Presbytery will grant my request. If it doesn’t pass, or if a motion not to agrre passes, Presbytery will give the Church an opportunity to state its reasons why I should continue to serve as your pastor. Does someone have a motion?”

   Mrs. Alfritz said, “I move that the congregation of First Presbyterian Church is in favor of Reverend Sterner leaving.”

   Mr. Bigelow, “I second that motion.”

   “The motion is made and seconded. Is there any discussion?”

   Nancy Friborg, one of Dr. Rumfeldt’s nurses stood up. Mrs. Alfritz also stood and said,

   “I am the maker of the motion. I have the right to be the first speaker.” 

   Nancy Friborg sat down. 

   “Our church has been the object of scorn ever since it became known that he let his wife die without doing anything to help her. Then we found out from his sons that there is an inheritance involved. Imagine, he is being sued by his own sons! Moreover, I think you will all agree that he has not been doing much work for the church since his wife became ill. Let him go and let’s get someone who will work at building this church up.”

   Nancy Friborg stood up again. “I can’t believe how many people believed and repeated that rumor. I know that they haven’t seen anyone in the last stages of cancer. Anyone who has seen someone dying of cancer will know how much work Reverend Sterner had to do every night to try to make her comfortable. Anyone with an open mind who will ask Dr. Rumfeldt or Patsy Godwin will find out that Laura Sterner lived longer than they expected and that there was nothing Reverend Sterner could have done to keep her from dying. It was a blessing when she died. You cannot imagine how much she suffered in these last months.”

   Johnny Fox, a quiet man who was a mechanic said, “When we vote, I want it to be by written ballot.”

   “Is there any more discussion?....Hearing none, it has been requested that we vote by written ballot. Is there a second to that motion?”

   “Second”

   “All in favor signify by saying ‘Aye’”.  There were a number of voices saying “Aye”.

   “All opposed the same sign.” About the same number of voices was heard.

   “I cannot tell from a voice vote. All who are in favor of voting by written ballot please stand. Mr. Bigelow, please count the ones standing on your side of the aisle, Mrs. Alfritz please count the ones standing on your side of the aisle. Then give your counts to Mr. Fike.

   “Please be seated. Those opposed to voting by written ballot please stand. Mr. Bigelow and Mrs. Alfritz please count.”

   The motion to vote by written ballot was defeated.

   “We are now ready to vote on the motion ‘…that the congregation of First Presbyterian Church is in favor of Reverend Sterner leaving.’ All in favor of the motion, please stand. You may be seated. All opposed to the motion, please stand. The motion passes. There being no other business, is there a motion to adjourn?”

   The motion was made and I closed the meeting in prayer.

   Joe Sheetz came up to me after the meeting.

   “Let’s go get some dinner. It will be my treat.”

   While we were eating I asked him,

   “When Presbytery dissolves the relationship, could it specify that I be allowed to continue living in the manse until the end of the year? My trial is scheduled for December 10.”

   “That is more than reasonable. Have you given any thought to what you want to do after this?”

   “If the trial is December 10 and isn’t postponed, presumably my bank accounts will be unfrozen. If so, I want to take a couple months vacation, maybe go to be with my grandchildren on Christmas. After that I will look for a church.”

   “That sounds good. You definitely need some time off.”

   After the meal we shook hands and went our separate ways. I went home and sat on the sofa. Despite the encouragement from Joe Sheetz, I felt depressed. As I looked back over twenty-seven years as a pastor, there was not one pastorate that I had left on my own accord. In each case I had left under some kind of pressure or another.

   After I had been in my first pastorate of three rural churches for three years, the presbytery urged me to lead the churches in increasing the amount of my support that they would pay and decreasing the amount they requested from the presbytery. The elders in the churches reacted strongly against this idea. They had been receiving support from the presbytery for over ninety years. They regarded it as their right. I was caught in the middle between the presbytery committee which had oversight over me and the sessions of the three churches. I began to look for an escape.

   I went to a church where half of the congregation wanted to leave the denomination and the other half wanted to stay. Neither half could have supported a pastor and a building without the other half. The presbytery executive helped me to work out a plan in which the church could designate how its benevolence money would be used. They could designate it for missionary work and orphanages and colleges, but refuse to support social action other unpopular causes. Everyone was able to unite under this arrangement. 

   The church had no children’s Sunday School or youth group. I was able to build up a large children’s work. We had scavenger hunts, bicycle hikes, roller skating and swimming parties, a Hallowe’en haunted house, and we took them to summer camp. All these activities were to attract and keep children and young people in the church. In the end it was young people who brought me tumbling down.

   Next door to the church was a large vacant lot which was owned by the church. The Deacons had said that young people could use the lot for recreation. One of the elders lived next to the lot. One Saturday when I was out of town at a Presbytery meeting, Philip and a dozen other boys were playing softball on that lot. In the middle of the game, this elder came charging out of his house, singled out Philip, and stood there yelling at him and threatening to throw him in jail if he brought his friends back to the lot again. The other boys walked away and went home. Philip went home shaking. He was white as a sheet. Laura asked him what was wrong. He was only 12 or 13.

   “Mr. Richfield said he was going to have me thrown in jail if I brought kids to play on that lot again. I didn’t bring them. Everyone just came together there. Anyhow, the Deacons said we could play on that lot.”

   When I came home, Laura told me what had happened. The next day, when Worship was over and people were leaving the church, I left the foyer, where I had been shaking hands with the people, and walked out to the sidewalk where Mr. Richfield was standing.

   “If you ever dare correct one of my sons, yell at him, embarrass him in front of his friends, you and I will go at each other with fists until one of us goes down. If you have a complaint against one of them, you take it up with me. If they need correcting, I will correct them. In this case you were in the wrong. The deacons voted that the young people could use that lot for play. If you don’t like that decision, go yell at the Deacons, not some 12 year old boy.”

   Needless to say my days were numbered in that pastorate. The next pastorate was a two church field. I was at that pastorate for eight years. I did a good work on that field and it is now two separate churches, each with its own pastor. Toward the end, something went sour. I’m not sure what it was. The collections began to decline until the treasurer couldn’t pay my salary. I was able to go on active duty with the National Guard for several months while I looked for another church. The salary I made on active duty was enough to support my family until we moved.

   My next pastorate was one church in a busy town. Our sons were growing up, Philip and Thomas were in college. For most of the time that I was there, the work prospered. In the fifth year, the woman who was treasurer resigned and quit coming to church. One of her daughters-in-law had a nephew who died. I had been preaching sermons on Elijah and Elisha. I didn’t know that this young lady was going to be in church. She had been away for several weeks. In the Scripture reading there was the story of Elisha raising a boy from the dead. The young lady stood up in the pew and screamed a high pitched primal scream and then marched out. At the next Session meeting they told me that they wanted me gone as soon as possible.

   That was when I came here. I had been here longer than in any other pastorate. Now it was again time to go. Am I a no good pastor? What do some men have that allows them to spend their entire career in the same pastorate?

   I took my shoes off and lay down on the sofa and tried to take a nap. When I awoke it was dark outside. The clock said that it was nearly midnight. I was hungry. I went to the refrigerator and got a can of peaches and the cottage cheese. I put some peaches and syrup in a bowl and topped it with cottage cheese. I ate these and then went back to the bedroom, undressed, showered, put on my pajamas and went to bed.

   The next morning I went to Mr. Bilton’s office. I asked him if he had completed the audit that I had requested.

   “Yes, I have. Here is the original and two copies of my audit. Here are the two envelopes of bills and cancelled checks.”

   “Was the bill $500?”

   "Yes.”

   “Here are five $100 bills.”

   “Thank you, Reverend Sterner. I am going to miss seeing you around town.”

   “Thank you, Mr. Bilton.”

   From there I went to lawyer Capon’s office.

   “Mr. Capon, I would like to give you the original of Mr. Bilton’s audit of the account that held Laura’s inheritance, and also two envelopes containing bills and cancelled checks from that account. I am giving them to you for safekeeping since they may be used as evidence in the lawsuit pending against me.”

   “Yes, we will take them and keep them safe. I’ll have my secretary give you a receipt. I notice that you have two copies of the audit. If you will give me the addresses of the two sons who are suing you, I will send a copy of the audit to them and suggest that they drop the lawsuit in the light of this compelling evidence. I will remind them that courts do not like frivolous lawsuits and that they could end up having to pay all court costs and your legal expenses.”

   “That would be nice if they had to pay.” 

   I started for home intending to spend the rest of the day resting and recuperating. On the way I made a spur-of-the-moment decision and drove to the Hazelwood Presbyterian Church. The dirt rectangle and a small tin marker showed me where Laura was buried. I won’t be able to buy her a headstone as long as my bank accounts are frozen. I stood by Laura’s grave and told her all that had been happening. I poured out my heart and soul to her, just as I had on other occasions while she was still with me. She is now in heaven, part of the great cloud of witnesses. God has wiped away all tears from her eyes. I can still be hurt and be sad, but not Laura! I cried my heart out.

   After supper I looked through the mail. The letters reminded me that it was time to write Nathaniel.                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

Dear Nathaniel,

Here it is November already. Soon we will be thinking about Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Yesterday we had a congregational meeting at the church. I announced that I was resigning as pastor effective the end of November. There is just so much here that reminds me of Laura’s pain and suffering. I want to go to some place where I can escape those sad memories.

When I think of all the happy memories of life together with her, I always wish for you that someday you will meet a woman who will make your life as happy and complete as the life that Laura and I had together.        

Love,  

Dad

ESCAPE - Chapter 7

   The next morning, just as I was about to leave for the church office, the FedEx truck pulled up. He had an overnight envelope for me from the Presbytery office. Inside were ten $100 bills anda note from Rev. Sheetz.

   “Joshua, Take your time paying this back. You have been hit with so many punches that most people would have been out for the count. I’m praying for you!  Joe”

   I was encouraged to know that Presbytery had my back. At the church office I received some sad news. Mr. Wainwright had died at the Arkansas Heart Hospital. I called the Wainwright residence to see if Mrs. Wainwright was there. There was no answer. I called her best friend, Mrs. Higgins.

   “Mrs. Higgins, do you know if Mrs. Wainwright has returned home from Little Rock?”

   “Yes, she returned last evening, but this morning I saw an ambulance and they took her away in it.”

   “Thank you, Mrs. Higgins.”

   I told the secretary that I was going to the hospital. At the Emergency Room I asked about Mrs. Wainwright. They told me that she was in Room 127 in the hospital. The clerk whispered to me,

   “She had a panic attack and was so distraught that the doctor thought she should stay overnight.”

   “Thank you, Susie.”

   HIPPA rules do not recognize clergy as part of the healing team. It is illegal to give a minister any information about a patient’s condition.

   I went back to Mrs. Wainwright’s room. She was a bit woozy and loopy, probably from a tranquilizer and sedative. I held her hand and told her how sorry I was for her loss of Harold. I told her that I was still hurting from the loss of Laura. Then I told her the good news of the resurrection and the assurance we have that our loved one who were Christians are now with the Lord in heaven. He has prepared a far nicer home for them than they had down here. Then I prayed with her. She probably had not spoken with the funeral director to make arrangements. I would have the secretary call the funeral home tomorrow afternoon to find out the days and times for the viewing and the funeral.

   When I returned to the church office, the secretary said that Mr. Fike called and wanted me to return his call.

   “Mr. Fike, this is Reverend Sterner returning your call.”

   “Yes. Well, I just wanted to know how this meeting on Sunday will go.”

   “I will moderate the meeting…”

   He broke in, “The Presbytery Executive won’t moderate it?”

   “If he is there, he will just be there to observe.”

   “Why would he want to observe?”

   “It is customary in these circumstances.”

   “What circumstances?”

   “The Session did ask me to leave. That is why we are having this meeting.”

   “Oh.”

   “I will declare that a quorum is present. Then, if you are present, I will appoint you as secretary for the meeting to keep the minutes. I will announce the purpose of the meeting which is for the congregation to vote on whether it desires for the pastoral relationship be dissolved by Presbytery.

   “If I then announce that I request the pastoral relationship between myself and the Church be dissolved, then someone from the congregation will have to make a motion that the congregation communicate to Presbytery that it concurs with Reverend Sterner’s request.

   “If I don’t announce that I request the dissolution, then someone from the congregation will have to make a motion that the congregation requests that the Presbytery dissolve the pastoral relationship between Reverend Sterner and this church.”

   “Well, are you going to announce that you are the one requesting it or not?”

   “I haven’t decided.”

   “Of course you haven’t, you jerk.”

   With that parting shot he hung up.

   I wondered if it wouldn’t be better to force the hand of those who wanted me to leave, by not requesting the pastoral relationship to be dissolved. That would expose to the congregation who the troublemakers are. That way, there was a distinct possibility that those who wanted me to leave would lose. BUT, then I would have to stay in what would be a pretty sticky situation. I will definitely request to leave, but I’ll keep my intentions to myself and let Fike, Alfritz, Bigelow, Carrington, et al squirm for a while.

   When I went home for the day, I divided the $100 bills and put them in different drawers and coat pockets. Then I sat at the table and made a grocery list. Because of Laura’s illness and with aides and the nurse coming and going, I had been eating out a lot. I made a list of foods for breakfast, lunch, and supper – enough for one week. Then I went to the store. In times past, people would stop me in the store and want to talk. I recognized some people and smiled at them, but no one spoke to me. In the checkout line I heard someone say,

   “A hundred dollar bill. He must have got that inheritance right away.”

   The next day the secretary found out that Mr. Wainwright’s viewing was on Friday evening and the funeral was Saturday at 2 p.m. I would go to see Mrs. Wainwright this afternoon. I started work on my sermon for Sunday, “Sola Fide”. The funeral home called and told me that Mrs. Wainwright had requested that I conduct the services for Mr. Harold Wainwright. I confirmed that I would conduct the services. I worked hard on the sermon until I left for Mrs. Wainwright’s house.

   “Mrs. Wainwright, the funeral home called and said that you wanted me to conduct your husband’s funeral. I’ve come over this afternoon to get some information and also to offer my condolences.”

   “Please come in Reverend Sterner. My daughters are here. We can ask them to help us.

   “Reverend  Sterner, these are my daughters Alice Cunningham and Rhoda Quatero.”

   “I am happy to meet you ladies. I am sorry for the loss of your father. I want to get some information on him for the funeral service.”

   Alice spoke up, “I want to read a poem in the service.”

   Mrs. Wainwright said, “Rhoda suggested that we have the burial first with just the family members present and then have the funeral service itself in the Church.”

   “That is fine with me. Be sure to let the funeral home know this as soon as possible. Call the church secretary tomorrow morning and have her inform the Chairman of the Board of Deacons that you want to use the church on Saturday afternoon. He will have to arrange for someone to clean up the sanctuary for church services on Sunday.”

   “Are we supposed to pay for that?”

   “If you want to send a donation you may, but there is no charge for church members. Now tell me some things about Harold that I can mention in his memorial service.”

After they had recounted some anecdotes and characteristics of Harold, Rhoda said to be sure to include “Abide With Me.” She was sure that was one of her father’s favorite hymns. I had prayer with them and then left.

   At home I fixed some supper. After that I continued work on the sermon for Sunday, Sola Fide, “only by faith”. It is by faith alone that we are saved. It is by faith we live each day in a way pleasing to God. Faith is the sum total of all God has revealed to us.

   That night I had a fitful sleep. In one dream I was wrestling with Death. In another dream I was wrestling with the Devil. In the third dream Mr. Fike, and Mr. Bigelow were both wrestling me while Mrs. Alfritz and Mrs. Carrington were cheering them on.

   On Friday Mrs. Alfritz called me at the church.

   “Reverend Sterner, I just wondered if you had visited with Mrs. Wainwright yet. You know her husband is in a hospital in Little Rock. It must have been too much for her because she was in the hospital here overnight. I know you have had so much on you what with Laura’s death and your own sons suing you, but if you can find the time, I’m sure that she would appreciate a visit from her pastor.”

   “I visited Mr. Wainwright in the Emergency Room here and Mrs. Wainwright was with him. I visited both of them in the Arkansas Heart Hospital in Little Rock. Mr. Wainwright died. I visited Mrs. Wainwright when she was in the hospital here after his death. I visited Mrs. Wainwright and her two daughters in her home yesterday afternoon to plan the funeral. The viewing will be tonight at 7 p.m. at the funeral home and the funeral will be tomorrow at 2 p.m. at the Church.”

   “Oh, I didn’t know he died.”

   “Good-bye Mrs. Alfritz.”

   I went to the funeral home to pick up a copy of Harold Wainwright’s obituary. I also asked for at least half a dozen copies of Laura’s death certificate. I saw that the cause of death was the same as the coroner had said, “Cancer; multiple organ failure”.

  “By the way, I left a $15,000 life insurance policy on Laura as a deposit on her funeral. Do you know how much I will be getting back from it when the insurance company pays you?”

   “Nothing. The funeral as you planned it would have been about $9600. When the extra cost of the deluxe wooden coffin, a family limousine, and some other additional services were added to it, the final bill was $15,146. The owner, Mr. Murphy said that we would accept the $15,000 policy as payment in full.”

   “Thank you.” “Yes, thank you Matthew, Traci, and Thomas.”

   Later that evening I came to the viewing and stayed just long enough to pay my respects to Mrs. Wainwright and her daughters. It was a quieter atmosphere than at Laura’s viewing. I had prayer with them and then went home. I found some classical music on the radio and sat down to relax.

   On Saturday I worked on my sermon for Sunday. I also wrote out a statement giving my reasons for desiring to end my pastoral call to the First Presbyterian Church.

   At one o’clock I left for the cemetery. I arrived before the hearse and the Wainwright family. This was a very large cemetery. I looked for a tent. I then looked around the open grave for the little metal sign with the person’s name. It was “Wainwright” so I was in the right location. When the hearse arrived, the family was in their own car following the hearse. There were just three women dressed in black. Evidently the daughters were not married or their husbands were at home.

   I read several verses about the resurrection, asked them to join me in the Lord’s Prayer. Then I had the Prayer of Committal, said two additional prayers and the benediction. I shook hands with them and started for my car. One of the men from the funeral home caught my sleeve. I stopped and he handed me an envelope. I thanked him. I realized that since there would not be a coffin in the church for the memorial service, the funeral home would not have to be involved with it.

   At the memorial service one of the daughters place a framed photo of Mr. Wainwright on the table in front of the pulpit. I read the obituary, then some Scripture verses. We sang “Amazing Grace” as an opening hymn. Then I called on Alice Cunningham to read a poem. She had chosen “Crossing The Bar” by Alfred Lord Tennyson

   After that I read two Scripture lessons - Psalms 46 and a portion of Romans 8. My homily was on Christ’s triumph over death. I had a prayer of praise and assurance. Then we sang “Abide With Me” as the closing hymn.

ESCAPE - Chapter 6

In the worship service bulletin I had the secretary word the announcement this way, “Next Sunday, following the Worship service, there will be a Congregational meeting for the purpose of asking the congregation to vote their approval or disapproval of dissolving the pastoral relationship between this Church and the Reverend Joshua Sterner.” That wording would allow me some additional time to decide whether to resign and ask for the congregation’s approval or whether to leave it to someone to make a motion that the congregation requests that its pastoral relationship with me be dissolved. I saw a number of people in the pews pointing to the bulletin. Apparently the members of the Session had kept to themselves their plan to ask me to leave.

My sermon was “Sola Scriptura”. The Scriptures are the only book in the world in which God has revealed Himself to mankind. The Scriptures contain words inspired by God and are literally the Word of God. Therefore, the Scriptures carry with them the same authority as a signed decree by a king, except they are the decrees of God. The Scriptures teach us what we need to know about God and what duties He requires of us. The Scriptures contain the only way of salvation. The Scriptures have sufficient power in themselves, without any priest or clergyman, to lead those who read them to salvation and a relationship with God. 

After church I had a light lunch and lay down for a nap. That evening Phil called. He and Molly and then Billy and Polly talked with me. The kids were excited about school. They have to ride over an hour on the school bus. Molly has been teaching them songs to sing on the way to school. The other kids are joining in, happy to have a way to pass the time.

 About an hour afterward Nathaniel called.

“Hi, Dad. I just wanted to see if you are all right.”

“Yes, I’m doing okay, Nathaniel, how about you?”

“Well, good. Good talking to you. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. Good-bye now.”

“Good-bye, son.”

Monday, I devoted myself to assembling the checks and receipts for Laura’s medical expenses that were in my files. The ones in the envelope in Laura’s dresser drawer covered the first six years and the very beginning of this year. They were carefully arranged in chronological order. Then she had given me power of attorney so that I could sign checks on her account to pay medical bills. After that the checks and bills were in my files.

After I finished arranging the checks and bills in my files, I took them to the office of Graham Bilton, C.P.A.  I had been going to tabulate them myself and print four copies and mail that to the boys. I thought that it would be better to have them audited. Maybe that would settle the matter.

“Graham, I have a job that I would like for you to do for me. Two of my sons practically accused me of embezzling Laura’s inheritance. In these two envelopes are the originals of the bills and checks of monies spent from her account. Would you audit them and write a statement of your findings? Then I’ll mail a copy to each of my sons.”

“I’ll be glad to do that for you. Things are slow right now so I should have the job completed this week.”

I walked back home. There was a message on the answering machine from the bank. It was too late to call this evening. This was supposed to be my day off. I decided to drive over to the next town and go to the movies, just to get out of the house. When I came to the movie house and looked at the posters for the six movies showing, none of them were appealing. I went to Jim’s Hamburger Restaurant and bought a large hamburger with sweet potato fries. The hamburger was delicious and the sweet potato fries served with barbeque sauce for dipping were out of this world. A juke box was playing. I nursed my meal, chewing slowly, and dragging out the time. It was a time of relaxing and unwinding for me. I didn’t want to see anyone that I knew, and I didn’t.

The next day, when the mailman came, he rang the door bell.

“Reverend Sterner, I have a piece of mail for you that requires your signature.”

After I had signed a green card, he gave me a letter from the Circuit Court. The papers inside informed me that I was being sued by Thomas Sterner and Matthew Sterner for the wrongful death of Laura Claudette Sterner and the mishandling of the funds in her estate. Until a judgment has been made, the Court has frozen all my assets. That explains why the bank called.

I called the church office and told the secretary that I had to take care of some business in town, but that I would be in the office before noon. I walked into town to the bank and went back to Accounting.

“Reverend Sterner, thank you for coming in. I wanted you to know that the bank received an order from the court freezing all your accounts. You won’t be able to write checks or withdraw money from any of your accounts or have access to your lock box until such time as the court rescinds its order or modifies it.”

“What about checks that I have written already?”

“Any check dated before we received the court order will be honored.”

“Thank you.”

Next I went to Graham Bilton’s office.

“Hello preacher, I started working on your job, but I am nowhere near being finished.”

“Graham, there is a new dimension to that job. I found out today that I am being sued for mismanaging Laura’s inheritance, so the work you are doing will eventually be evidence in court. Also, the court has frozen all my assets. I will have to pay you in cash. You’ll have to tell me a day or so ahead how much the job will cost.”

“It will be around $500. If you can’t come up with the money right away, I know you are good for it.”

“No, I’ll get it some way. I don’t believe in asking people to work and then putting off paying them.”

From there I went to the lawyer’s office. I asked to see Mr. Capon. He had drawn up the wills for Laura and me. He had urged us to make a Living Will at that time.

“Brother Sterner, I expect you are here to ask some questions about submitting Laura’s will for probate.”

“No, I haven’t got to that yet. Let me ask some other questions. No, first read these.”

I gave him the papers from the Circuit Court. He leaned back in his chair while he was reading. He reminded me of pictures that I had seen of Abraham Lincoln. He didn’t look like him in the face, but he was tall and slim and seemed awkward when he was sitting in a chair.

“Your son sure was busy while he was in town for his mother’s funeral. What are your questions?”

“The most immediate question is how am I going to live? I have less than $100 in my wallet. I don’t have a pantry full of food, in fact there is hardly any food at the house. If someone wants me to visit a family member in a hospital in Pine Bluff, Little Rock, or El Dorado, I have to jump in my car and go. My gas gauge is on ¼ full right now. I should take it to the gas station, but if I do it will take more than $50 to fill it up.

“Before I knew anything about this lawsuit, I took bills and cancelled checks to Graham Bilton relative to Laura’s inheritance. I asked him to audit the account that contains her inheritance. That is going to cost me $500. I was going to send his report to the four sons because at the dinner after the funeral both Tom and Matthew had challenged me. When Laura first received her inheritance, she told the boys that she was going to save it for them. That is why we put it into an account in Laura’s name alone with my name in case of death. Later, when she developed cancer, she decided to use the inheritance for medical expenses that the insurance didn’t pay. She was the only one who wrote checks on that account until this year. When she was getting too weak to write the checks, she gave me power of attorney to write checks on the account.

“As for the wrongful death – the night Laura died, I did not find her dead until the next morning. By then her body was cold and her limbs were stiff. Her hand was clutching the bell she used to call me at night and her mouth was wide open. Mrs. Koontz, one of her aides, came not long after I discovered Laura dead. I told her that Laura was dead and she shoved past me into the house and went to Laura’s room. When she saw her, she screamed. She ran out of the house. Then she began to tell all over town that Laura died because she was calling for help and ringing her bell, but that I wouldn’t come to help her.

“Laura’s doctor told me that she had lived a lot longer than he thought she would. All of her organs were affected. She had not been able to talk for several weeks or more, so she couldn’t have called for help. He said that her mouth was wide open because she was trying to get air but her diaphragm and lungs had stopped working. He said that even if she had managed to ring the bell, and I had run down the hall to her room, there was nothing I could have done to keep her from dying. The hospice nurse said the same thing. She said that even if a nurse had been there, there was a Do Not Resuscitate order in accordance with her own instructions in the Living Will.”

“It would appear, Reverend Sterner, that the facts are on your side, that furthermore you need a lawyer to use the facts to send your lawyer son back to Georgia with his tail between his legs. In the meantime, I don’t know the answer to your first question, ‘How am I going to live.’ The trial date is not until December 10. Since your son’s purpose seems to be to make your life miserable, he may even try to postpone the trial until later.”

“Will you represent me?”

“It would be an honor, Joshua.”

“I probably will not be in this town or state much longer. The church is asking me to leave.”

I was standing up and Mr. Capon unfolded himself from his chair to stand across from me. His jaw dropped and for a few moments he seemed stunned. When he recovered he said,

“Keep me informed of your whereabouts and how I can reach you.”

When I reached the church office, the secretary greeted me with a cheering smile. There were no messages. I called Rev. Sheetz at the Presbytery office and told him about the lawsuit and all my bank accounts being frozen.

“Joshua, is there any way that I can help you?”

“I am going to have to operate on cash until this is straightened out. I deposited this month’s pay into my checking account, but now I can’t get any of it out. I have less than $100 in my wallet and two weeks to go until my next pay. I have no food in the house. I think that the Presbytery has an emergency fund for ministers. If you could send me at least $500 in cash by FedEx overnight I sure would appreciate it. When the church pays me in the beginning of November, I’ll repay the money.”

“I’ll get on that right away. You certainly are being punched right and left. You are a modern day Job. The Devil is doing everything possible to defeat you. Keep looking up to Jesus and I’ll be holding you up in my prayers.”

I was relieved to know that I could manage for the time being. I was grateful to the Presbytery for helping me in this way. I had to plan what my next moves would be. I should begin prioritizing, packing, and throwing things away. I would pick out what was most important to me that I could take in the car with me. The things I wanted to keep but couldn’t take with me I would put into the storage unit where I had put the boxes of Laura’s belongings. The furniture I would sell to the second hand store for whatever they would give me for it. There wasn’t much furniture and it wasn’t too good.

I remembered what Nathaniel said about Laura writing to him every week and how he had appreciated it. I decided to write to him.

Dear son,

It was so good to see you and be with you even though it was under such sad circumstances.

I had a real uplifting experience last week. A man that I didn’t even know asked me to come to the hospital and pray for his wife. I did and walking out of the hospital I was certain that she was going to get better. The next week I had to go to the Emergency Room for a church member who had a heart attack. While I was there I went to see the woman I had prayed for. She was sitting up in bed, real happy, and said that she was going home the next day.

Nathaniel, I have decided to leave this church and this town. There are just too many sad memories. Wherever I go from here, when I die I want to be buried beside Laura. Please remember that and when the time comes don’t let your brothers change it.

Love,

Dad       

 

ESCAPE - Chapter 5

   Wednesday evening I went to the Church for the called Session meeting. After I had opened the meeting with prayer, I asked Mr. Fike what the purpose was for which the meeting was called.

   “Pastor, we are here to ask you to resign immediately. If you don’t, we are going to take a vote to fire you.”

   Before I could speak, Mrs. Alfritz, who was also an elder said, “The talk around town has made our church the object of scorn throughout the whole community. We all loved Laura. The thought that our pastor could be callous and unfeeling and let her die without making any effort to help her, without even getting out of bed, is just too horrible for words.”

   Mr. Bigelow, the treasurer, said, “Our offerings have gone down steadily these last couple years while you have had to spend so much time taking care of your ailing wife. Of course that was your chief responsibility. Our responsibility is to keep this church alive. The longer we keep you here as pastor, the worse the shape we are in.”

   Mrs. Carrington, a wealthy widow, said, “I understand that you will come into a sizeable sum of money now that Laura is gone. You really don’t need what we can pay you as pastor.”

   When everyone had spoken, I said, “In the Presbyterian Church, the pastor’s call is a three-way contract between pastor, congregation, and Presbytery. The call can be terminated in only two ways. The pastor can request that it be terminated, the congregation votes on whether they are agreeable to that or not. Or the congregation can vote to request that the pastor’s call be terminated, and the pastor says whether he agrees or not. In either case, if both the congregation and the pastor are in agreement, the Presbytery will agree. If either the congregation or the pastor do not agree, there has to be a Presbytery meeting. The pastor and the congregation’s elder representative each present their reasons. Then the Presbytery votes whether to dissolve the pastoral call or not.

   “In short, this meeting needs to call a congregational meeting for the purpose of deciding whether to request that the pastor’s call be dissolved. The meeting could be announced next Sunday and the congregational meeting could be held after service the following Sunday.”

   The Session voted to call a congregational meeting. I asked for a motion to adjourn. Then I closed the meeting in prayer.

   Thursday morning the church secretary called to say that one of the members, Mr. Wainwright had a heart attack and was in the hospital. I went to the hospital. Mr. Wainwright was still in the Emergency Room. Mrs. Wainwright was in the examining room with him.

   “Reverend Sterner, thank you so much for coming. Ralph is pretty woozy now. They gave him some shots. The doctor is consulting with a doctor in Little Rock to decide whether to transport him to the Heart Hospital or leave him here. I guess it will depend on what is wrong with his heart and how serious the attack was.”

   “Since they may come back in and get him ready to go, let’s have prayer now. Then after you know what is decided, call the church secretary and let her know. She can pass the message to me. I have to go to the Presbytery office in Ruston, Louisiana today or tomorrow.”

   I had prayer with the Wainwrights and concluded with the Lord’s Prayer. I heard Mr. Wainwright murmuring sounds in sync with the words of the Lord’s Prayer. He was trying to say it.

   Next I visited Mrs. Wrangle. She was sitting up in bed chatting cheerily with a nurse.

   “Oh, Reverend Sterner, I’m so glad to see you. The nurse was just telling me that I will probably go home tomorrow.  Isn’t that wonderful news? It was your prayer, you know? You really got through to God for me. I told my husband that we are going to start going to your church just as soon as I am able.”

   I had a prayer of thanksgiving with her ending with the Lord’s Prayer. Both she and the nurse joined in. From there I went to the church office. I called the Presbytery office and asked to speak to the Executive Presbyter, Rev. Joe Sheetz.

   “Joe, this is Joshua Sterner. I need to talk to you and I would prefer a face to face meeting. Could you spare an hour’s time this afternoon?”

   “Would two o’clock be all right?”

   “Yes, I can be there by then. Thank you.” 

   I spoke to the secretary,

   “Mrs. Johnson, Mr. Wainwright is still in the Emergency Room. They are deciding whether to transport him to the Heart Hospital or to keep him here. Mrs. Wainwright is supposed to call you here at the Church Office and leave a message about what they decide. If she does not call before you are ready to go home, please call the hospital and find out if he is there or has been transferred. Whatever you find out, leave a note on my desk. Any other messages or calls, leave a note on my desk. I have a meeting at the Presbytery office at 2 p.m. I don’t expect to return to here until 6 p.m. or later. Thank you.”

   “Reverend Sterner, I heard about the Session meeting last night. These people don’t realize what a hard working and godly man that they are tossing aside because of wicked, gossiping people. The Devil must be laughing.”

   The drive to Ruston was relaxing. I listened to classical music on the XM radio. The fall colors of the leaves was at its height. The sun was shining brightly. A smile crept onto my face. I thought that I heard Laura saying,

   “That’s right, Joshua, smile. Let the sunshine come back into your heart.”

   I arrived at the Presbytery office about five minutes early. There was a half pot of coffee on the stand beside the secretary.

   “Is it fresh?”

   “No, it’s nasty.

   “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll go get a Coke.”

   I knew they kept soft drinks in the refrigerator in the kitchen. I found a Lime Diet Coke and walked back to the front. Joe Sheetz was waiting.

   “Joshua, come on into my office.”

   After I was seated across from him, he asked,

   “What is on your mind; what can I do for you?”

   “I’ll give you the short version first, then fill in the details. Laura died last Thursday; her funeral and burial were on Sunday. On Wednesday night the Session had a called meeting and asked me to leave. There will be a congregational meeting Sunday after next to request that the pastoral call be dissolved by Presbytery.

   “Here are some of the details. Seven years ago Laura received an inheritance from her uncle of $250,000. Several months later she discovered that she had cancer. Over the years most of that inheritance has been spent on medical expenses and hiring aides to help her. There were a couple years when the cancer was in remission, in fact she was told that she was cancer free. Then it came back with a vengeance. All this year she has been getting weaker, then she became bedridden. 

   At first I hired aides for a couple hours three days a week. That increased to aides seven days a week, 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. Three and a half months ago, Laura’s doctor told me that her condition was terminal, that her pain required morphine, and that he was recommending hospice care. I signed up for hospice care and a nurse has come to the home at least twice a day to check on Laura and to administer the morphine.

   “Laura had a schoolmarm’s bell which she rang whenever she wanted something or needed help. At night, in bed, I would hear the bell and go to her room to see what she needed. I always had to get up one time a night and sometimes more. The night she died I slept all through the night. When I awoke I ran down the hall to her room. She was dead. Her body was cold and her limbs were rigid. Her mouth was wide open and her hand was clutching the schoolmarm’s bell.

   “Her aide came at 9 a.m. When I told her that Laura was dead, she shoved past me and went into Laura’s room. When she saw the body, she screamed. She left, but she went around town saying that Laura had called for help and rang the bell, but I didn’t go to help her and that is why she died. 

   When Laura’s doctor heard from his nurses that this gossip was going around town like wildfire, he left his office and came to me. He told me that Laura had lived longer than he expected, that I had taken excellent care of her, that she was too weak to call for help her diaphragm and lungs had probably quit and she was trying to get air. Moreover, he said that even if I had found her not being able to breathe, there was a Do Not Resuscitate order as part of her Living Will. Hospice would not have sent an ambulance.

   “Later the gossip was expanded to say that I let her die so I could get her inheritance.

   “I think the Church’s action is partly compassion fatigue. Laura was sick with cancer and then apparently recovered. A couple years later she came down with cancer again, this time much more severe, and she didn’t recover. The church is reacting to the gossip going around town. Also, the church has diminished in members and income. There might be other reasons for this, but the easiest explanation is to say that the pastor has been too occupied with his sick wife.”

   “What do you want to do? You have been in that town for ten years. This flap of vicious gossip is momentary. When the excitement dies down, what remains is that you are a man of integrity, a hardworking and caring pastor, an outstanding preacher. Those qualities would help you build up that church again. Do you want to stay? Can you forgive the church and the town? Do you need to escape from a place that daily reminds you of Laura’s last painful years? I’m going to be at that congregational meeting. You may have more support than you realize.”

   “That congregational meeting is the main reason that I have come to you for advice. My pride moves me to make someone from the congregation make a motion to ask me to leave. Then if I have supporters they might speak up. In the vote I would find out how many want me to stay. My desire for peace in the church says that I should ask for my pastoral call to be dissolved and ask the congregation to concur with my request. I could give them as a reason that my grief is so great that I don’t think I can do an adequate job as pastor. That way even my supporters would support the motion out of sympathy for me. If I make the congregation ask me to leave, even if the motion is defeated, those who want me to leave will then leave themselves.”

   “You are a wise and humble man, Joshua.”

   I drove back with Joe’s words going through my mind. As I drove into town it was going on six o’clock. I stopped at the Subway shop and bought a twelve inch sub sandwich. I went into the church office long enough to pick up my messages.

   When I reached home, I unwrapped the sub sandwich and got a glass of cranberry juice from the refrigerator. There were messages to call Mr. Fike and Mrs. Alfritz. Mr. Wainwright had been moved to the Arkansas Heart Hospital. After I ate, I lay on the sofa and watched a couple episodes of “Doc Martin” that had been recorded by the DVR.

   The congregational meeting would be on Hallowe’en – how ironic. That was also Reformation Sunday. I decided to start this Sunday a series of sermons on the five solas of the Reformation, sola Scriptura, sola fide, sola gratia, solus Christus, and soli Deo Gloria. I did a search on the internet and found a half dozen articles that I could use as background material for the sermons. I printed them out. I noticed that I didn’t have any more ink cartridges. I ordered three.

   The next day I went into the office. I returned the calls from Mr. Fike and Mrs. Alfritz but neither one answered the phone. I began working on the sermon for Sunday, “Sola Scriptura”.

   Mrs. Wainwright called and said that her husband wasn’t doing too well. She asked me to please come to see him. I told her that I would. I saved my work to a memory stick so that I could continue my sermon at home.

   The drive to Little Rock was as far but not as pleasant as the drive to Ruston. I arrived at the Heart Hospital at about 2:30 p.m. That was a blessing from God because the visiting times are noon, 3 p.m. and 6 p.m. Mrs. Wainwright met me.

   “They are going to operate tomorrow morning. The surgeon said that he did not want to wait until Monday.”

   “Will you please call me as soon as you know something. Here is my home phone number, and here is my cell phine number.”

    Mr. Wainwright was sedated. I prayed for him and for the surgeon and for the nurses who would be helping. I concluded with the Lord’s Prayer.

    I returned home about 6 o’clock. After a supper of soup, left over piece of the sub sandwich, and hot tea, I went back to work on the sermon.