Judas Church

Episode 5

Chapter 13

By the beginning of next week, it seemed the rancor over Johnny Dunmore's revelation had died down. Maybe Manley was right: what happened with him was the exception, not the rule, and there was nothing to be seriously concerned about.

Saturday afternoon, I got an e-mail from Leon Juarez, my buddy from college who left on a mission trip to Indonesia the day after I had my car accident. He and his wife had arrived safely in a small village in southern Indonesia. Electricity there was inconsistent at best, so he had to drive to a cafe in a larger town eight miles away to keep his satellite phone and laptop charged up. Leon had set up a blog so his friends, supporters, and church family could stay updated on what he was doing. He attended a Bible church in Washington D.C. and had been sent out as part of the church's international missions program. I bookmarked the blog's URL and sent him a message telling him to stay safe and that I was praying for him.

Late that afternoon, I caught a ride with Manley to City of Fellowship Bible Church.

"Do you know who is going to replace Dunmore?" I asked as we waited in his Jeep at the end of a long line of cars for the parking attendant to wave us in.

"No, I don't think they've picked anybody yet, but there are plenty of good guys who can take his place," Manley said. He kept flicking the blinkers on and off. "But there is that new music minister who's going to play tonight. I heard Gemma Simmons is on leave for some reason."

The parking attendant waved us in.

"I wonder why they're here?" Manley said motioning to a satellite truck with WBAL-TV painted boldly on the side.

I shrugged.

As we walked into the building, the entire glass and steel structure seemed to pulsate with the deep, thumping bass sound emanating from the auditorium.

"Have you come to worship? Have you come to praise?" an excited voice boomed through the loudspeakers in the foyer.

We entered the auditorium and found our seats. The man leading the worship was dressed in a dark orange suit and shiny black shoes. "Ferrian Flay" his name read on the big screens mounted on either side of the stage. I made a mental note to look him up later. Overall, the music part of the service felt like a concert. Gone was the subdued, reverent feel of the past few services I had attended. Most of the people seemed to enjoy the new style, however. Folks still stood up and waved their hands in the air. The news crew in the back quietly filmed. Honestly, though, I liked the former style better, and I asked Manny about it later.

"Everybody worships in different ways," he said. "There's no wrong or right way to worship God. Some people are more expressive, some people aren't — personality plays into it. Some people like loud, raucous music, others like soft, contemplative music, and some don't like music at all. When I first started attending church, I was the guy sitting on my hands in the back pew. I'm sure some people thought I wasn't into church at all, but I got a lot out of it."

"I guess the real pressure is on the church leaders — having to please everybody," I said.

"Yeah, but most churches have a certain style and attract a certain type of people," Manley said. "Nothing wrong with that. Can't please everybody, you know."

Chapter 14

Monday morning, after a meeting with my dad and the board of directors, I was in my office at Wegel & Co. when I received my first visitor. The potential client's name was Glinton Sanford. He was a bald, thin black man with big hands, probably five feet, two inches tall. He was with an organization called APG Taskforce.