The Carpenter of First Church

It was the seventh inning stretch and George Menken couldn’t wait any longer.  As the commercials began to roll, he lifted himself from his easy chair in front of the television, walked into the kitchen, grabbed a can of peanuts from the cupboard and poured himself a glass of freshly made lemonade from the refrigerator, then walked to the counter, picked up the phone and dialed.

“Hello.”

“Hello, Grace?”

“Yes.  Is this George?”

“Yes it is.  I was just calling to see how the service went this morning.”

“I wouldn’t know.  I didn’t go.  There’s no organ beside the lake, so what would they need an organist for?  I decided this would be the perfect Sunday to take a little vacation.  I slept late and was just fixing some lunch and having a cup of coffee.”

“Well, I won’t keep you long.  I was just curious about this morning.  I guess you’ve heard the latest rumor about our pastor,” George’s voice had a conspiratorial tone.

“And what would that be?”  Grace’s curiosity had been piqued.

“He was at the legion club drinking with the local bar flies last night.”

“YOU’RE KIDDING!”  Grace knew Pastor Carpenter was unconventional, but she was finding this a little hard to believe.

“I swear.  I ran out to the store to pick up some snacks this morning and ran into Lyle Lewinski.  He already had a couple under his belt, and when he saw me he bopped right on over to tell me how Reverend Carpenter sauntered into the legion club big as you please, guzzled down a Budweiser and started singing like Carl Franklin always does when he’s had one too many.”

“Well, I’ll be--”

“Yep.  Lyle said he started traipsing around like some vaudeville performer, drained that beer slick as you please and then left.  Wait ‘til that Masterson fellow from the Regional Office hears about this!”  Grace could sense George’s excitement over the phone.

“Are you going to call and tell him?”

“First thing in the morning.  If this doesn’t convince him Elias Carpenter should be moved right on out of here – right on out of the ministry, if you ask me – I don’t know what will.  Though I still have my doubts about that Masterson guy.”

“Have you heard from him?”

“He had his secretary call me the other day.  I never trust anyone who has his secretary call.  Usually means they’re too chicken to call themselves.  Anyway, he had his secretary call me to say that he was investigating my complaint and would get back to me shortly.  You ask me it’s way too late for ‘shortly’.  Shortly would have been weeks ago.”  George could hear the volume rise as the crowd at the baseball park began to cheer, and he was anxious to get back to the game.

“Well, I got to go now, Grace.  I’ll let you know what Masterson has to say about this latest little escapade by our renegade minister.”

“You be sure and do that,” Grace smiled to herself as she hung up the phone.  She was delighted with the latest news.  This little caper should finally do in that karaoke clergyman, and it would be none too soon.