“I’m going to jump right in and hope you won’t think I’m crazy. Rev. Williams, you don’t know me, but I owe my life to you.”
As he observed her gulping a drink from her mug, Ray determined that most individuals who were bereft of reason didn’t know enough to acknowledge it.
“You helped me climb out of a bottomless pit and find our Lord Jesus Christ, but I know I’m not the only person you’ve saved. Last week, God spoke to me in a dream, with a clear plan to enrich The Road to Calvary and allow your message to be accessed by a much larger audience.”
As Susannah stopped for a sip of coffee, Ray posed a question. “What kind of direction, exactly, did God give you?”
Her penetrating eyes never wavered from his face. “God told me that He has chosen you to work miracles.”
His response, a surprised chuckle, wasn’t mocking her in any way, but the absurdity of a small-time preacher being called upon to work miracles gave him pause. “Miss, I’m just a poor preacher with a small flock. As far as miracles go, that’s up to God.”
“I’m not talking about walking on water, Reverend. Suppose you were in a position where you could see and hear the needs and prayers of everyone attending The Road to Calvary. Those followers need your help, Reverend, and here’s the perfect opportunity to give it to them. You choose the audience members with the greatest needs and, using the miracle of technology, lead them toward redemption, while giving others in the congregation hope.”
Ray sat motionless, astounded into silence by what he’d heard. Surely, she was joking, or she was completely nuts and masked it extremely well. His voice took on the tone of the Pentecostal preacher that he was, clear in his disapproval. “I think you’re confusing miracles with fraud, Miss Baker. And that’s not something I want to be involved in.”
He expected her to back down or at least sheepishly admit this was indeed an inappropriate plan. Instead, she plunged ahead. “I admit eavesdropping with hidden microphones may be an unorthodox approach, but God sees such methods as acceptable for the greater good. You’ll be able to help people with their specific problems, and they’ll be empowered to help themselves and improve their lives. And I ask you, Reverend, what is wrong with that?”
Before he could further explain his discomfort, Susannah was justifying the tactics. “There are so many other ways the program can distinguish itself. Envision a choir praising God in jubilant song and members witnessing the power of salvation in their own lives. It’s a means to accomplishing a much greater good.”
Still not convinced this wasn’t simply deception, he made his point a second time. “This would not just be unethical, but a breach of trust,” he said, crossing his arms.
Susannah Baker leaned back against the slats of the wooden chair, a slight smile on her full lips. “If you could hear the prayers of potentially every member of your congregation, what would you do?”
“I’d pray for them and hope those prayers are answered in a positive way,” he replied.
“Exactly my point,” she countered with equal force. “The technology is nothing more than an instrument, providing evidence you wouldn’t otherwise have. Being able to acknowledge the needs of the congregation, you help get the prayers of greatest consequence answered and set them on the miraculous path to redemption in our Lord Jesus Christ.”
Ray pondered Susannah Baker’s proposition and found himself very conflicted. On one side of the argument, he felt employing deception could be a huge risk, and members would surely feel betrayed if they ever knew. But on the other side, such an approach might be the very thing that could save The Road to Calvary from the television trash heap.
“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” she asked.
“No, but I’m not convinced these ideas are right for us.”
“But you said you’re planning to end the program, so you have nothing to lose. And neither do I, so I’ll throw out another idea of how The Road to Calvary can set itself apart from other religious programming.” Elbows propped on the table, Susannah leaned forward. “I’ve always wondered why there is no such thing as Christian makeovers, because a woman who looks good improves her self-esteem and gives her husband something special to come home to. Tell me where it says good Christian women, especially on television, must have big hair, false lashes, and bad eyeliner.”
He chortled; this was certainly an idea that had never crossed his mind, particularly in the realm of ministry.
“Go ahead and laugh,” Susannah continued, not offended in the least, “but it’s another way to set you apart from the competition.”
“My apologies,” Ray offered. “I wasn’t laughing at you; it’s just not something I’ve ever considered.” He ran a finger around the rim of the mug. “You really believe God gave you these directions in a dream?”
“I don’t just believe it. I know it. God has great faith in you, Reverend, and he’s telling you not to give up.”
On some level, Ray realized Susannah Baker’s passion was reminiscent of his own, and it fired his spirit. But he needed time to process the core element of eavesdropping to save souls, a ploy he still considered unethical and shameful. He had no intention of turning The Road to Calvary into a Barnum & Bailey circus act, full of flamboyant miracles and tawdry sideshow freaks.
“I’ll consider it,” he said finally. “Give me a week to reflect on your suggestions and consult with Buck and Jeff. I can’t promise we’ll take you up on any of this.”
She smiled, clasping her hands together. “I understand your concerns. Do you think you’ll have a decision by next week’s taping?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’ll have an answer after the show.”
“Forgive me for being forward,” she ventured slowly, “but would you mind if I sat in on the discussion? I understand a lot of this sounds crazy, but perhaps it would help if I could clarify any questions you or your staff might have.”
“Well, there isn’t much of a staff. Buck and Jeff basically do this for the Lord.” He paused, tilting his head back slightly. “You sound as though you’ve done this kind of thing before,” he said, not as a question but an open-ended statement.
Her soft smile turned up the corners of a full, inviting mouth. “God has told me everything I need to know.”
3
WEDNESDAY, MAY 15, 2002 ST. CHARLES, MISSOURI RUTH PERKINS’S HOME
“Your yearly physical with Dr. Garland is this Friday at ten o’clock, so what if I pick you up at nine? That should give us plenty of time in case traffic is heavy.”
Ruth Perkins knew her daughter Emma meant well, but she had a way of taking over that could be annoying. She didn’t answer right away, distracted by The Road to Calvary playing in silence, as Emma had hit the mute button on the remote the moment she walked through the door.
“Why do you insist on watching that crap?” Emma said. “The Reverend Bob—”
“Ray,” Ruth countered sternly. “It’s the Reverend Ray.”
Her mother’s outburst took Emma by surprise. “Okay, so you enjoy the Reverend Ray. But he’s a shyster out to part people from their money. You haven’t attended church since Dad died, so why this?”