Godless Read Free Page A

hoping God already understood the mess in which he found himself, and the land mines awaiting him on the other side of the door.
    He entered a room divided into three distinct factions.
    Phil Crawford and Kenny James were huddled near a touch screen, eyeing a diagram that hadn’t been there before Alex’s escape. It contained two overlapping circles with arrows pointing in several directions. Scribbled text read “Economic engine?” Both men loved undecipherable charts and corporate lingo that invariably highlighted their pastor’s lack of business acumen. Alex knew he had no interest in or capacity for running the church like a corporation. So did they.
    Stephen Wilding stood by the window with Lydia Donovitz and Mary Sanchez. He appeared politely disinterested as the women sipped diet sodas and chatted about matters much more pressing than whatever appeared on the meeting’s agenda: how well Mary’s daughter was doing in her sophomore year of college, when Lydia’s husband would return from Europe, or, Alex could only hope, how many volunteers they had recruited to fill vacancies in the preschool and third-grade classes.
    The third faction, consisting of Roberto Wilson and Brandon Baxter, was seated at the table minding its own business. In their early thirties, both were slightly younger than the pastor. Each was fairly new to the church board. They represented an effort to bring “fresh eyes” and “new blood” to the leadership team.
    Brandon had some connection to the founding pastor. His grandson? Or perhaps his nephew? But Alex had no idea whether the newcomer might help tip the balance of power slightly in the pastor’s direction.
    As it was, the most influential voice on the board was that of the chairman, Phil Crawford, who finally noticed Alex’s return to the room. “Good,” he said while tapping a  SAVE icon on the board and returning to the table. “Ready to resume?”
    â€œReady. Sorry for the delay.” The pastor’s voice exuded a tone of grateful deference while his eyes moved quickly from person to person—a show of warmth that also helped him gauge positions. If they met his gaze or nodded it meant they understood his dilemma. Those who looked away probably sided with Phil. Downward glances implied wavering.
    None of the seven looked him in the eyes. But only two looked away.
    â€œI believe we were just about to vote on the question of whether…”
    â€œBefore we do that,” Alex interrupted while pointing toward the digital board, “I wonder if you might explain the diagram.”
    He knew Phil wouldn’t be able to resist the invitation—a clever distraction Alex would soon regret.
    â€œGlad you asked,” Phil said eagerly, returning to the drawing. “Kenny and I were just talking about the central question that frames everything on this evening’s agenda.”
    Alex glanced down at his tablet. They had discussed four of six items.
    Worship Attendance : A slight decline this month, but still better than it had been before Alex’s arrival. During the prior three years, attendance at the worship services had plummeted from nearly two thousand to below eight hundred on campus, plus a few hundred online participants. Alex’s youthful vigor and engaging teaching style had seemed to stabilize the situation by attracting a younger crowd. A fairly successful year, Alex thought. Not good enough, the board had concluded.
    Giving : Unlike attendance, income had continued to fall. The Christ Community personnel committee had hired Alex, a progressive young man in his early forties, hoping he might bring new vision and passion to the congregation. And he had, some. But the growth had been largely offset by a continued departure of the elderly. Not his fault, the board agreed. But still a challenge, since young attendees tended to give less than the dwindling older crowd.
    The Mortgage :