Church Folk - Michele Andrea Bowen [90]
Otis Caruthers suppressed an urge to pull out a cigarette. He needed one bad after learning that Murcheson James would become the first elected bishop at the conference. Tradition dictated that the pastor with the most pledged votes got to select the location for the bishops' private, preelection celebrations. Unbeknownst to many in the denomination, some of these gatherings were high old times—expensive champagne flowed like water, caviar was passed around like it was tuna fish on crackers, the seasoned bishops shared all kinds of delectable secrets about their escapades with the neophyte bishops—and all felt a common bond, a kinship, a sacred brotherhood that they believed no other men in the denomination could share. And now Murcheson James, a man as straight and upstanding as any pastor could be, would control how this time-honored rite of passage would take place.
With this new development in the bishops' race, Otis knew that he would have to redirect his efforts and find another way to help Cleotis Clayton recruit ministers and bishops for the club he was running out of the new Richmond funeral home. If Ernest were in Murcheson's shoes, everything would be smooth sailing. He would make money and get enough dirt on enough bishops and some select pastors to ensure his reinstatement into his old district before the conference ended. He rubbed his hand back and forth across the edge of the table, trying to think his way around Murcheson and his very powerful crony, Percy Jennings.
The Bishop decided that he would not add to Murcheson's triumph by uttering a single syllable of praise. Eager to move past this unpleasant moment, the Bishop jumped right into the conclusion of the program. It pained him to be passing on the mantle of senior bishop to Percy Jennings, a man he disliked even more than Murcheson James. Jennings had, as one of the old bishops put it, "started off on the right track, until he got all holy, trying to turn the Board of Bishops into a doggone Boy Scout troop."
Jennings's relationship with SCLC and SNCC, his visibility as a civil rights leader in his district, and the money he raised for the Gospel United Church colleges, made it impossible not to select him as the new senior bishop at this particular time. Just about every pastor worth anything was involved with the civil rights movement in some way, but Percy Jennings had been to jail with other SCLC leaders many times and always told folks he would be in jail many more, as long as things were this bad for Negroes in this country. He was a hero to many in the denomination.
Unwilling to so much as congratulate Jennings, the Senior Bishop kept his remarks innocuous and to the point: "I know you good folks know that I am retiring at this conference and stepping down from my position as senior bishop. And in keeping with the tradition of our great denomination and the esteemed Board of Bishops, I will now call forth the new senior bishop, Percy Jennings, to bless these men and call forth a victory for them all. Bishop Jennings, come on up here, son, and do your new job."
Bishop Jennings stood silently at the microphone for a few seconds. His heart ached over this ritual, one that made it virtually impossible for the denomination's best and brightest men to reach positions of power in the church. The corrupt tradition was just too entrenched. But he gave thanks for the small miracles of life. Jennings knew that if he did nothing else for his church, he had put at least one good man in an episcopal seat, and was working hard to have another good one placed at the helm of the church he hoped and prayed would become the church of the future: Garrison—no, Freedom Temple Gospel United Church in St. Louis, Missouri.
Chapter Twenty
THERE WERE SO MANY CARS PARKED NEAR WILLIS and Thay's house that Theophilus was forced to find a parking space a block away, easing his Buick into a tight space. Thayline opened the door and said, "What took you so long? Everybody here waiting on you two."
"That banquet," Theophilus said. "Did