“OK. Sagan and a few of his friends began meeting periodically in the afternoon out in your tool shed, on church property. A neighbor, fortunately a church member, spotted them going in there and staying awhile. It seemed curious when this happened repeatedly. Temperatures were reaching into the 90s. Inside that metal shed it had to be even hotter. ‘Now why would these boys hang out in there,’ he asked himself, ‘when they could be inside an air conditioned house?’ Should I continue?”

“Oh, why not? We‘re having fun now.”

“So one day while they’re in there, the neighbor sneaks over …”

“Are we encouraging sneaking now?”

“Dietrich, please,” my father said.

“The neighbor moves into a position on the side of the shed, and he can hear and smell what’s going on inside. This neighbor is no … shrinking violet; he’s been around. Navy service and a child of the sixties. He has absolutely no doubt what’s going on in there: they are smoking marijuana from a bong pipe. He brings this information to you in confidence and the shed sessions end …”

“So what’s the problem?”

“I suppose you could say the problem is that no disciplinary action was taken. The boy, Sagan, remains in your house -- on church property -- which also is where the first incident took place -- on church property -- and, maybe as a result of your easy acceptance of his behavior, we had a recurrence, on church property, except in the second case it has become a matter of public knowledge and members of your church leadership, acting within the scope of their responsibility, have moved, for the good of the congregation in my opinion, to make sure this doesn’t happen again! That’s the problem and I should think you would share their concern!”

“I’m curious Dr. Webster, how you determined no disciplinary action took place. This neighbor you mention … I don‘t recall speaking with him after the time he reported the … activity to me.”

I continued speaking to Charley but fixed my eyes on Carolyn. “And I’m not sure I agree no disciplinary action was taken. But I’m really curious about how you learned details which were, in my view, a personal matter for my household. Do you have anything to add dear?” I asked my wife.

Carolyn was still looking at her lap. She took a tissue from her purse, wiped her cheeks and slowly turned to me, her face as composed, cold and guilt-free as I‘d ever seen. “Not really,” she said.

“Were you able to help Charley in his little … inquiry?”

Not only guilt free but angry I thought. The corner of her lip lifted slightly and her eyes pinched together slightly as she returned my stare. Finally, an answer came but it came from Carolyn’s mother.

“Your wife told me; I told Dr. Webster,” she said.

“Of course,” I said, as if shining a light on their betrayal was the end of it. But she was on the attack now.

“Grow up Dietrich. This isn’t kids’ play. Don’t you understand the damage this could cause our church, let alone your career? Knowing you condoned drug use of the church property? People could leave in droves. Or don’t you care about all you’ve accomplished? Is everything about that boy … and his … mother? We all know what she is.”

I found myself on my feet, pissed off. “Excuse me ma’am!”

“You have a family of your own to think about. If you didn’t want to worry about Carolyn’s kids, you shouldn‘t have adopted them. You need to get off your high horse and thank everyone here for caring enough to keep you from making a complete fool of yourself!”

“Bravo,” I said, clapping my hands right in her face. “Quite a speech Mrs. Chisholm.”

“Dietrich!” Charley shouted. “Sit down!” I did.

“Let’s get this over with. What do you want me to do?”

“Your two lay leaders have agreed to let me handle this outside formal channels if you’ll agree to the remedies we’ve stipulated and forego the right to a judicial procedure in this matter if you don‘t live up to your agreement.”

“You mean a church trial before my peers --- a jury of other clergy like they gave that poor lesbian pastor who came out of the closet?”

“Exactly. I don’t want this coming back to bite me.”

I wouldn’t have dreamed of asking for such a circus. “And what are these … remedies?”

“There’s three of them. First is a reporting requirement for six months. Once a week at first, and then once a month if everything goes well. You sit down with your lay leaders and put together a report on how things are going in general. One report from the three of you. That will force you out of your separate camps into one common camp. Maybe we can think of it as the church’s camp, even God’s camp.”

“And two?”

“A period of … let’s not call it probation, but guidance. You’ll be under my supervision for those same six months. I’ll come over once a month to sit in on worship and meet briefly with the three of you -- of course I’ll also have your written reports.”

“What is big number three?”

“Well, I know this is the one you’ll like least but I consider it an absolute necessity. You have to get Sagan out of the house.”

“Now Charley …”

“No! You listen!” We both stood, our faces less than a foot apart. His was red; I guessed mine was too. “It doesn’t need to be forever, but we have to draw a line in the sand. That’s where you failed before. And it can’t be just moving in with his mother or whatever. You need to get him into a residential program -- there’s a system, programs I should say, residential programs for treating drug addiction and he needs to do it -- go away … have professional help getting clean.”

“Or just go away.” An unfair shot on my part. “Sorry, Dr. Webster. I shouldn’t have said that. I know you mean well. But if you’d seen, like I have, what the system -- the programs -- have done to Sagan over the years, you wouldn’t have such confidence. He’s done much better since he’s been with Carolyn and me.” She glanced up at me, still trying to look cool, but at least I had her attention. “You know honey, the main thing that’s worrying Sagan right now? How his actions might have hurt our family. He’s willing to give himself up for us. Can we turn our backs on him?

“And Charley, as far as the drug use. Sure he’s had a relapse or two but you gotta realize how far he’s come. In fact, he’s brought some of his old friends along with him His buddy Frankie …” I turned again to Carolyn. “ … his buddy Frankie was one of the biggest drug users around; but now he’s been clean ever since the business in the shed. No Charley. I can’t send him away. I don’t care if a program comes with gold plated credentials. Because whatever it is, the workers -- the counselors -- will only be doing what they’re getting paid for. It won’t be someone offering him unconditional love, which is what he needs. It won’t be family, Charley.”

“I hope this isn’t going to be your final word Dietrich, because if …”

“No, let me finish Charley.” I left the circle of chairs, crossing behind Charley’s desk. There it was. New Revised Standard Version. Oxford Annotated. “You ask, you and Mrs. Chisholm, whether I care about my congregation. Of course I do. I care about them as a group; I care about each individual.” I found the scripture and began to read:

“Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me for I have found my sheep that was lost.’ Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.”

I paused a second for effect. “When it comes to taking direction from Jesus or from my church, I have to go with Jesus. Sorry, but no apology. I’m not going to leave Sagan out there in the wilderness, lost and on his own. I’m going to bring him home.”

I placed the Bible back on the desk and was almost to the door when Charley called my name.

“Yes sir.”

“Don’t plan on preaching Sunday. I’ll be over to do it myself. I’m going to give you until Monday to change your mind. In the meantime, consider yourself relieved of duty.”

“Yes sir,” I pulled the door closed behind me.

My father caught up with me in the parking lot. He started to speak, then laughed softly and hugged me.

“I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” I said.

He clutched my shoulders with his long thin hands, smiling and shaking his head side to side. “I didn’t know whether to scream at you, ‘take the deal,’ or to yell out, ‘you go boy!’”

I smiled back at him and he kissed my cheek. I had my car door open and was about to slide in when a family memory popped into my mind. “You remember how you got all those people mad at you that time for telling how you knew the Garden of Eden story was a misunderstood myth?”

“Yes, I do. They all thought I meant the creation story.”

“But what you were saying was way more important. You said that the idea of humanity going from a flawless perfection …”

“… before the fall …”

“… to a state of natural sinfulness after …”

“… is a naïve misunderstanding. Everyone has within them a potential for both good and evil. Had it then, have it now. And given time, each will play out in all of us.”

“The real perfection of the Garden was that we knew it then, and knowing it helped us live with it. After they ate the fruit, they began to think some are all good and some all evil.”

“Ah yes, black hats and white hats. It’s been causing us problems ever since.”

“So what Genesis called the “tree of the knowledge of good and evil …”

“… was really the tree of forgetfulness.”

“You know Dad, I finally understand. I feel like with this situation, I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.”

“All you can do is follow your heart son.”

Carolyn and her mother passed without glancing toward us. I gently said her name and she stopped to look my way, her face no longer a mask of steel.

“Please honey, call me,” I said.

She turned away, then back again. “God bless you Dietrich,” she said.