Beholden - Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

Mavet’s dark eyes scanned the congregation of the Wisdom Outreach Center as they raised their hands in obedience to the worship leader. He chuckled, to himself, at the empty gesture. So many of the churchgoers were like robots during the service. They stood to their feet, clapped and raised their hands, and shouted by direction. Each action was simply a reaction to what was going on up front. Suddenly, a hush came over the sanctuary causing Mavet to avert his attention to the front of the church. A chill swept through the room; however, he could not determine the source of the wind. The tiny hairs on the back of his neck began to rise causing him to lose focus. He felt uneasy and agitated. His eyes narrowed as he moved about the room to pinpoint the origin of the disturbance. He wondered why no one else seemed to be as bothered by this sudden change in the atmosphere as he was. His search took him from row to row until he had maneuvered his way, unhindered, to the front of the church.

Mavet’s heart began to race and he quickly turned to see who was standing at the podium; it was Ziva Montgomery, the First Lady of the church. Her beauty was undeniable. It emanated from within her like the flame shining forth from a lantern. Her chestnut brown hair fell gracefully over her shoulders; her crowning glory. Her ivory skin was flawless, requiring very little make-up. This morning she wore an amber colored sundress, with a belt cinched at the waist. Her five-inch heels, matched perfectly, and enhanced her already statuesque aura. She was greeting the members, as was her custom every Sunday that she attended. Her voice was light and very feminine.

“Good morning, saints” she started. “It is such a pleasure to see your smiling faces, on today. It blesses my soul to know that God’s love has seen fit to allow us to assemble ourselves together, one more time.”

The congregation seemed to love her, but Mavet hated her. She refused to give him his proper respect. She treated him like he didn’t matter – like his authority meant nothing to her – like she had greater power – like he couldn’t get to her like he had done all the others. Albeit, he had not even gotten the opportunity to speak to her, face to face, he was certain that she would come around – all he had to do was get her to reveal her weakness, then he would whittle away at it until she begged him to give her the strength to overcome it. In the meantime, Mavet could not argue the fact that she was getting under his skin. That chill was too much to deal with, now. He needed to get away from it because he was beginning to feel ill. His bones seemed to rattle as he shivered uncontrollably. He needed to nuzzle up to a warm and accepting body. He quickly scanned the room and his eyes looked passed Ziva to the doorway just off to her left. He walked to the front, being sure to stay along the wall, so he would not draw attention to himself. He took up his place, directly in front of the tall, dark man standing in the door.

Pastor Zeke Montgomery did not seem to notice Mavet, as he looked out into the congregation. However, he did take note of the empty seats and immediately wondered what he could do to get warm bodies into them. He needed to implement a plan that would help him realize his vision for the Wisdom Outreach Center. He knew God would be pleased as he sought to fulfill his calling. It took some of the wind out of his sails, every time he walked out onto the podium to see there was room for more people. He knew he had a word from the Lord that would benefit so many more than turned out to listen to his sermons. There were hungry and thirsty souls seeking relief from their condition and he was confident that he had the solution to their need. He needed to settle himself down – quiet the cyclical thoughts that plagued him by highlighting those empty chairs. He took a deep breath and Mavet moved closer, and whispered in his ear. The pastor sighed, as he felt his help coming.

Pastor Zeke, as he was accustomed to people addressing him, brushed at his tailor-made navy blue pinstriped suit to insure it was spotless. Ziva always took the lint roller to his suits, every Sunday morning before she greeted Wisdom Outreach parishioners, but he nervously brushed at them just before stepping out onto the podium. He was an opposing figure, standing a full foot taller than the average person. His dark skin, neatly barbered mustache and beard, along with his closely shaved head gave him a distinguished look that caused certain women to pay closer attention to his sermons than they would any other preacher. He thought this would give his gorgeous wife reason to be jealous, yet she remained confident in her place. There was no jealous bone in her, at least none that she let anyone to see. In all of their twenty-five years of marriage, neither of them had strayed or even caused the other any worry. Their love was strong and solid, built on the foundation of Christ. He smiled as he listened to Ziva encourage and exhort the congregation. The people loved her, too – and for that, he was most grateful. Their eyes met, she smiled and gave him an imperceptible nod giving him the okay to join her at the podium.

“…and here he is, our beloved Pastor Zeke. Please stand to your feet and show him some love.” Ziva Montgomery held out her hand waiting for Pastor Zeke to take it into his own. He approached her and kissed her lovingly on the forehead.

Mavet took up the position, vacated by Pastor Zeke, as he went to stand next to his wife, Ziva. He couldn’t stand to be around her – she was so discourteous. He moved further away from the couple and away from the chill. He watched the two of them banter back and forth while engaging the congregation. He looked out amongst the people and his eyes locked with one parishioner, in particular. He felt a welcoming beckon from her, so he eased down the stairs and headed in her direction. She looked so forlorn and in need of his attention. He sensed an emptiness on the inside of her that created a hunger that seemed insatiable. He knew what she needed the moment he positioned himself next to her, on the pew. He asked her a question, and she was quick to share her deepest secrets. He consoled her with promises – promises that she quickly accepted. He encouraged her to rest her head on his shoulder, as they watched the pastor and his wife appear so syncopated and in-step. He recognized her longing and assured her that there was no reason to feel that way.

Maren Dane, the church administrator, sat watching Pastor Zeke and First Lady Ziva wondering why she could not have that in her marriage. She fidgeted in her seat. She smoothed her skirt down. She fussed with her hair. She admired the First Lady and felt she paled in comparison. Although Lady Ziva was ten years her senior, she didn’t look a day over thirty-five. Maren, on the other hand, with her slightly out of shape body and crow’s feet around her eyes, appeared to be far older than her forty years. She wore girdles and other body shapers, in an attempt to hide her love of food – but, she was unsuccessful. Her secrets were always visible. She hated standing beside Lady Ziva because she felt so uncomfortable. It was nothing that the First Lady said or did to make her so insecure. In fact, she was nothing short of accepting and loving. Yet, Maren could not shake the discomfort. She began to nit-pick her own appearance. She second-guessed her clothing choice and her make-up, whenever Lady Ziva stopped by the pastor’s office.

Maren reached out her hand to touch her husband’s hand. Adley was engrossed in the exchange happening at the front of the church. He barely felt her hand resting on top of his. She imagined he was wishing that she could be more like the First Lady. She quickly removed her hand and placed them on her lap. Mavet watched as Maren chided herself. This is too easy, he thought to himself. He patted her hand, gently – and more secrets unfolded. His words kept her distracted, so she could not focus on the sermon. The louder Pastor Zeke spoke, the closer Mavet drew to Maren. Her eyes welled up with tears as her shortcomings became more evident. Her eyes darted from woman to woman and couple to couple. They were the lucky ones. They had shapely bodies. They had smooth skin. They had attentive husbands. They had children. They had stylish clothing. The thoughts were on repeat; and no matter how much she tried to fill her mind with other things, they refused to stop. She found herself becoming more and more agitated – then her agitation turned to anger.

Mavet sat back and watched her walls crumble before his very eyes. Maren Dane would not be a problem, at all. She flung the door wide open at the slightest bit of consideration. He wanted to move about the church, but she demanded his full attention. He gave her what she wanted, although his focus was divided. Ziva Montgomery was troubling him. Her calm and peaceful demeanor annoyed him and caused him great angst. He became dark and brooding while he watched her sitting in her assigned seat on the pulpit. She glowed as her husband spoke passionately to the dulled crowd. There were only a scant few fully engaged, and following along with bibles and notes. More parishioners were checking their cell phones, posting updates to Facebook, sending text messages and reading their timelines on twitter. He noticed there were some people holding their own conversations while the pastor was delivering his message. He shook his head. He didn’t understand what compelled them to come to church. Sunday after Sunday they filed into the pews, got comfortable and bided their time until the benediction. What a waste of time! He scoffed.

Pastor Zeke was finishing his sermon. He was bringing his point home. He wanted the congregation to be fully cognizant of the love of God and that it is unconditional. There is no sin that will cause His love to falter – it is unfailing. His love should not be compared with the love that is experienced between humans.

“We keep records of the wrong done to us. We are grudge holders. Even though, God tells us that this is not how love is expressed, we choose our way over all else. We refuse to put another’s feelings above our own. We refuse to not be offended. We refuse to set aside petty differences for the sake of unity. This is not God’s love. John 3:16 is a perfect example of His love …’For God so loved the world that He gave…’” Pastor Zeke asserted.

Lady Ziva stood to her feet. Her face shone radiantly as she raised her hands and closed her eyes. She allowed herself to experience God’s love on a daily basis. His love kept her sane and at peace with her life. She knew there was nothing that she could do that would demand that she forfeit the love of God. She could come to Him, during prayer, without fear because He would never turn her away. His love believes all things – His loves believes that she wants to do the right thing and please Him, above all else. His love does not force her to comply; it simply compels her to want what He wants. His love refuses to twist her arm, demanding that she do His will. His Holy Spirit whispers to her spirit and she responds with an open heart and a willing mind. If it were not for the love of God, she would not be able to handle her calling as a wife of a pastor or the mother of a pastor’s kids. The days could be draining with the demands of her time, her patience, her long-suffering, her compassion and her love. God opened up her heart – and continues to do so – allowing her to be up for the challenges that face her, on a daily basis. As difficult as it could be, God gave her the strength and the wherewithal to embrace her life with joy.

Maren’s attention was drawn to the pulpit where Lady Ziva was worshiping God. She noticed how serene her face appeared with her hands outstretched. She glanced over at Adley, her husband, and noticed that he was looking in the same direction. He raised his hands and offered his praise, quietly, to God for His love. She wanted him to look at her the same way he was ogling the First Lady. She leaned closer to him and called his name, sharply, under her breath. That snapped him out of his reverie and he turned toward his wife. His face showed his displeasure at her rude interruption, but she was undeterred. She did not want him fantasizing about the First Lady while she stood right next to him. She asked him for their tithes, so she could place it in the envelope and fill out their information. He reached into his suit pants to pull out his wallet and counted out the money. He handed the bills to her, about to turn his attention back to the pulpit, but Maren asked for a pen. He pulled a pen out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket and handed it to his wife. He paused waiting to see if there would be any other requests…there were none.

Pastor Zeke finished his sermon and moved into the offering portion of the service. He encouraged the congregation to give joyfully. God loves a cheerful giver; he reminded them. Offering time allows God’s children to sow into His kingdom – it gives the church seed to sow into the community and the other mission projects they have going on. Every person has an opportunity to experience the joy of giving, no matter the size of the offering. There should be no hindrances to their giving, as this was between the congregant and God. He invited his wife up to the podium to stand with him in their giving. She stood beside him and rubbed his back. She whispered something to him and they smiled, in unison. He took her hand into his and kissed it before turning back to the congregation. He gave the ushers the word and they began to pass the offering baskets to the first person on each row. They scouted out the occasional person who needed an envelope or requested a pen. Once completed, they brought the baskets to the front of the church and poured the contents into a larger basket.

Pastor Zeke raised his one free hand, as did First Lady Ziva, and he began to pray. “Father, we bring to You the first fruits of our labor and an offering. We understand that You do not need our money; it is just an opportunity for us to participate in expanding Your kingdom, here on earth. We appreciate this chance to be a part of what You are doing. We are filled with joy knowing that we can be Your hands and bless those who are seeking relief. You said, give and it shall be given unto you – good measure, pressed down and running over shall men give unto your bosom. We gladly take up the charge to be the man and woman used to give back to those who are trusting You to supply their needs. We give You the glory and the honor for giving us the seed to sow into Your kingdom. We trust You to take care of us, as we seek to take care of Your people. We bless You and give You the praise. In Jesus name, we pray – Amen and thank God.”

The ushers took the basket out of the sanctuary and into the finance office, as was the custom and Pastor Zeke called for those who wanted to accept God’s love gift, embodied in Jesus Christ.
“There is no greater love than for one to lay down his life for his brother. Christ embraced the cross and all that it entailed, so we could be reconciled to the Father. God sent His Son into the world, not to condemn the world, but to save us from the path of destruction that we were headed down. His love wants us filled with joy – a state of acceptance of His love no matter our circumstances. His love wants us filled with peace – a heart condition that remains calm in the midst of tests and trials. Will you come?” Pastor Zeke opened his arms to accept those who walked down the aisle, all the while longing for the time when more people would come to join the church. He wanted the seats filled.

Mavet smiled, as he stood next to Pastor Zeke speaking into his ear.