Linda finished writing the last sentence with a flourish, the ink skidding off the page. There was one last question she needed to ask. “Reverend, do you have any pictures of Susan I might have?”
The corners of his mouth curled into a sour smile, and she already knew the answer. “There aren’t any photographs of Susan,” he answered quietly. “She took every single picture with her the day she left.”
9
THE SAME DAY ST. LOUIS, MISSOURI THE CABLE TV STATION
Ray came to a decision on the ideas proposed by Susannah Baker, as he’d promised. He pulled her aside, explaining he’d reserved a conference room for the four of them to talk, which he hoped she’d be agreeable to.
His choice was more complicated than Ray had anticipated; the reality wasn’t black or white, but a milky shade of gray somewhere between extremes. On the one side, he wasn’t sure about operating electronic gadgets to eavesdrop on the needs of church members—it was quite possibly illegal and most likely unethical. But, as he engaged in a round of devil’s advocate, he found himself wondering if real benefits might come out of hearing a prayer for help and being able to provide answers for his congregation and viewers.
Ray grappled with his dilemma for the week, the pros and cons of the argument constantly giving voice in his head. “Heavenly Father, help me make the right decision,” he prayed often, bowing his handsome head and seeking God’s blessing or some sign that this was the wrong path. But the reverend received no instructions from the Almighty, and he realized he alone would be answerable for his judgment.
Of one item, he was certain: if he chose not to accept Miss Baker’s proposal, The Road to Calvary would be finished in a few short weeks. But if he agreed to it—or at least some of her ideas—might this be the jolt his ministry needed? And maybe he was defining the term miracle too narrowly. Perhaps that miracle had already manifested itself in the presence of Susannah Baker. If nothing else, her ideas were worth presenting to Buck and Jeff.
After they gathered at the small table, Ray explained the basic concept but decided to let Susannah do most of the talking. And talk she did, diving in without the slightest hesitation. He watched as Buck regarded Susannah cautiously, his reluctance etched across the crease of his brow.
“Let me get this straight,” he said. “God came to you in a dream and said that the Reverend Ray, who has devoted his entire life to serving our Lord Jesus Christ, should work ‘miracles’ by duping our members through deception?” He clearly wasn’t buying it, his stiff arms folded across his chest.
“Buck . . . it is Buck, right?” she asked with a smile.
“Yeah, Buck, like a deer.”
“I’m sorry, Buck,” she assured him. “Try to think of this as moving people toward their greatest potential. If members believe enough to overcome their problems and accept Jesus Christ into their lives, it shouldn’t matter how they came to that decision. What does matter is they have a positive experience that gives them courage to go onward, changes their lives for the better, and tells others that Jesus Christ listens.”
Sitting next to Buck, his muscular frame squeezed into a small chair, Jeff nodded his head toward Buck. “Buck’s right, man. I mean, isn’t this a crime like fraud or somethin’?”
Susannah’s hands waved through the air as she spoke. “Look at this as transforming people’s lives by helping them to discover Jesus Christ. It’s not the methods that matter; it’s the results.”
Observing the discomfort on the part of his friends, Ray felt it was best to explain how he’d struggled with the same arguments. “Jeff, Buck, I’ll be honest,” he said, observing them. “When Miss Baker first approached me, I felt much the way you do now. But then I started thinking that my ministry has always revolved around serving others. And I asked myself, who am I serving right now? Maybe a few hundred folks, but that’s probably overly optimistic.” He paused, letting his words register. “I think we ought to give some of Miss Baker’s ideas a chance, because unless you’re willing to see five years of vigorous work and sacrifice go for nothing, which it will, we have nothing to lose.”
“Weren’t you willing to do exactly that a week ago?” Buck said, wagging his finger.
Ray studied his friend, concern in his voice. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean I wanted to do it. Given my druthers, I want to keep this ministry going and see it become successful.”
The cramped room was bursting with silence, and for a fleeting moment, Ray believed Buck, if not both men, might simply walk out. There was no emotion etched into Buck’s features as his intense eyes stared back at him.
“You think this might help our viewers face their problems?” Buck asked.
“Yes, I believe hearing the problems of others will encourage people to try and solve their own difficulties with the help of God.”
From the corner of his eye, Ray saw Susannah anxiously tapping her fingers and thought perhaps she had not predicted such resistance. But he understood where Buck was coming from—he’d been there himself. In fact, he hadn’t completely vanquished his reservations, but he couldn’t end The Road to Calvary without knowing he’d tried everything he could to save it.
Buck inhaled deeply. “Okay, I can’t speak for Jeff, but I’m willing to try this on a temporary basis. But I emphasize the word ‘temporary.’ If I think this approach is hurting us more than it’s helping us, I’m out. No questions asked. I leave with proper notice.”
“I can accept that,” Ray replied, turning to Jeff. “What about you, Jeff?”
He ran a hand over the bristles of his short, cropped hair. “I’ll do it; but like Buck said, if I’m not comfortable, I’m outta here. I can always find work installing floors.”
“Fair enough,” he said.
The mood shifted from apprehension to one of excitement. Buck started throwing out ideas, gates of a dam opening as the words gushed out. “We’ll need equipment—surveillance cameras, microphones, earpieces, and monitors—and that’s just to start. Where’s the money going to come from—a loan? Since we rent our studio space, how will we monitor the audience? There will be equipment to set up and tear down on every show, and we can’t let anyone catch on to what we’re doing. And who among us has the technical expertise?”
Susannah enthusiastically returned to the conversation. “I knew you’d come around. We’ll rent the necessary equipment to start. We won’t be able to cover the entire audience, but monitors can be set up in one of these conference rooms. As far as money, taking out a loan is a possibility.”
She considered the male faces around the table. “The thing we need to remember is The Road to Calvary won’t save anybody unless you market it.” She turned to Ray. “Reverend, start building relationships with the religion editors of area papers and make yourself available for interviews. Take out small ads in newspapers and on other cable stations to let people know that we—I mean, you—exist. You’re also not taking advantage of your core audience. Give them more than a post office box during the offering and at the end of the broadcast; get a telephone number up there, 1-800-HE-SAVES, in the center of the screen, where people can see it during the entire show. You need to do something different from the other religious programs already getting air time here.”