Jim’s Punctuation Ordination

by Donna Poole

Darlene settled into the pew next to Jim’s parents who’d come all the way from New York State for this landmark day in their son’s life. After Jim had served as pastor of the little country church on the corner of two dirt roads for over a year, Deacon Pete and the board figured it was about time to get their young preacher properly ordained. Then he’d be Reverend Jim Peters.

Darlene glanced around the tiny auditorium and smiled at the people she knew and loved. The women all dressed in simple cotton dresses; some of the men wore denim overalls.

Jim sat in a chair on the platform looking handsome in a leisure suit coat made by his mother, an excellent seamstress. His mom smiled at him proudly. Mom Peters was the only woman present in a store-bought suit and heels, the only one wearing makeup and jewelry, the only one with a beauty parlor hair style, and for sure the only one wearing so much perfume. Darlene coughed a bit at the heavy scent of “Charlie” filling the auditorium. Dad Peters grinned at his son. Dad’s leisure coat was opened, probably because it couldn’t quite button anymore, and he chewed gum and smiled his infectious grin everyone loved.

Dad reached for baby Jimmy and Darlene smiled at him gratefully. She knew she’d have her hands full keeping April, just a toddler quiet for however long this might take. She would have been horrified had she known then exactly how long.

As Darlene waited for the service to start, she did a mental checklist. Was everything ready for the dinner next door in the old one-room country schoolhouse they used for a fellowship hall? Meatloaf and lasagna warmed in the oven; crockpots were plugged in; the ancient refrigerator with the broken handle only she and a few others could manage to open was stuffed with food. The ladies at Corners Church were famous for their cooking. Darlene had covered the antique tables with white paper and set out the dishes and silverware. She only hoped the inevitable mouse who’d manage to escape the traps would stay off the tables long enough for this service to finish and the celebration dinner to begin.

Wait. There would for sure be a celebration, right?

She’d never heard of an ordination council not voting to approve a candidate, but she and Jim knew so little about these things.

Darlene looked up at Jim and caught his eye. He smiled his I’m nervous grin at her, and she smiled her I love you and I’m praying for you one back at him.

And then it started. The members of the ordination council, pastors who’d been invited from near and far, filed in as a group and sat together in the front pews. Their footsteps echoed on the hardwood floors. Only a few of them were smiling.

What an austere bunch! These guys look like they’re out hunting for a fox that’s been eating someone’s chickens! All they need are guns!

Darlene barely managed to stifle a giggle as she pictured the reserved, dignified pastors, mostly older men, tramping through muddy fields in their spotless black suits and shiny shoes, carrying guns.

Whoops. I forgot to check Jim’s boots for mud. Too late now. It’s about impossible not to have a speck of something on your boots when you live on a dirt road.

But then some of the pastors looked over at Darlene, nodded, and smiled. She breathed a sigh of relief. They didn’t look so bad after all, except for the one, the youngest of the group. He dusted the pew with a white handkerchief before he sat and looked around with an unmistakable sneer.

Oh boy. He’s going to be trouble with a capital T!

It wasn’t too bad at first. They started the service with hymn singing as they always did at Corners Church. Darlene almost forgot to be nervous for Jim as she joined in the praises to God that filled the tiny auditorium and went straight to heaven.

Jesus is here. He’s with Jim. It’s going to be okay.

And then the questions began. Jim stood alone behind the pulpit. He looked so young. Minutes ticked by and became hours. Darlene noticed the sweat on his forehead. From every side the questions came covering all the ologies she’d ever heard of and a few she hadn’t: theology, Christology, soteriology, pneumatology, eschatology, bibliology. Did he prefer topical preaching or expository and why? What were his views on inspiration, predestination, justification, propitiation, and punctuation?

Okay, maybe they didn’t ask about punctuation, but they asked about everything else and then some. Her babies were getting restless. She was getting restless. Jim looked like he might get sick.

Is the food in the fellowship hall burning? It’s way past lunchtime.

Darlene glanced behind her and saw a few women were already on their way out the door. She knew they were going to check on the food. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Darlene glanced uneasily at Jim’s mom. Mom Peters didn’t take kindly to anyone giving Jim a hard time, but she didn’t seem to realize that one of these pastors was doing just that. The young one seemed to be trying to stump him. Mom just kept smiling at Jim and occasionally whispering to Darlene asking if she didn’t think he was doing well and looking handsome.

Darlene knew it wasn’t very Christian of her, but she started thinking of the man haggling Jim as “Pastor Smart Alec.”

Finally! A kind looking older pastor said, “Gentlemen, I think we’ve asked this young man enough questions, and he’s done quite well. Why don’t we wrap this up? I call for a vote.”

Pastor Smart Alec stood. His face was red. “I don’t think he’s done all that well. Several answers were not thorough enough for my liking. And I have one more question. Jim! Could you stand up straighter when you reply to us? What’s the definition of unction and how important is it to you in your ministry?”

One look at Jim’s face told Darlene all she needed to know. He was exhausted, rattled, and his brain was empty. She tried sending her thoughts to him; they’d taken the same classes.

Jim, you know this! It’s the anointing of the Holy Spirit. It’s his convicting, empowering work when he calls someone to do a job. It’s vital for every Christian, but especially for those teaching and preaching God’s Word.

Her mental telepathy failed. Jim looked wearily at Pastor Smart Alec and said, “I’m sorry, brother. I don’t know.”

Whereupon the said brother stepped out in the aisle, up onto the platform, and with arms waving delivered an incredibly detailed, lengthy, and angry exposition on unction. He concluded with, “Perhaps this little pastor might be good enough for this little church on the corner of two dirt roads, but I say even they deserve someone better!”

It was a good thing thoughts didn’t appear in bubbles over heads. Darlene’s would have said, “And you, Reverend Smart Alec, just showed us what unction isn’t. Or if you had unction, you sure didn’t get it from God!”

The auditorium sat in stunned silence. Darlene risked a quick glance at Mom Peters. Mom was smiling but she had a look in her eye. Darlene grinned. Smart Alec was sure to hear from Mom before the day was through.

Doubtless, had there been a place to vote in private, the pastors would have gone there. But the little church had no such place, not even a bathroom, and the outhouse wouldn’t have held that many distinguished guests. They couldn’t go outside; it was pouring.

The gentle looking older pastor stood. He gave Reverend Smart Alec a look of his own, but all he said was, “I call for a vote.”

It was a unanimous yes. Well, almost. One loud “No!” sounded from the midst.

And then Jim came down from the pulpit, knelt on the floor, and the pastors, minus one, circled him, laid their hands on his head, and prayed for him. Darlene cried.

With one last joyful hymn, the congregation dismissed for a lunch so late it was almost supper.

Mom Peters made her way straight to Reverend Smart Alec and extended her hand. He barely touched it. Conversation stopped, and everyone in the auditorium looked at the two of them.

Mom Peters said, “I just want you to know that I’m going to pray every day for this little pastor, my son. And I’m going to pray that this little church on this little corner will be a lighthouse until Jesus comes!”

“Huh!” he scoffed. “As if that could ever happen.”

“Oh my!” she said, looking surprised. “Don’t you know the meaning of faith as small as a mustard seed?”

There were more than a few chuckles.

Then Mom Peters went back to where Dad and Darlene were each holding a sleeping child. She opened her purse and pulled out her rain hat and tied it carefully under her chin.

“Ruthie.” Dad laughed. “You don’t need that. It stopped raining. The sun’s out.”

“It might be windy. I don’t want my hair to blow.”

Dad and Darlene grinned at each other.

Dad said, “Your hair couldn’t move in a hurricane!”

Darlene laughed. It was true. Mom used so much hairspray; her hair was a force to be reckoned with, and come to think of it, so was she.

“Let’s go next door and eat,” Darlene said. “I’m starved.”

Everyone headed to the schoolhouse fellowship hall except for Reverend Smart Alec. He used his elbow to wipe a speck off the door of his black Lincoln, got in, and drove off without a backward glance.

Suddenly Darlene felt sorry for him. He didn’t know what he was missing. She stopped walking and prayed silently for him.

“Come on, Darlene; hurry,” Mom Peters said. “Jim is probably waiting for us. I think he looked handsome; don’t you? And don’t you think he did a good job?”

Darlene laughed and wondered how she’d feel about her babies when they were grown up. “Yes, Mom, to both. He looked very handsome, and no one could have done a better job.

The End

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If you enjoyed this short story about Jim and Darlene, look for an entire book about them on Amazon, “Corners Church,” by Donna Poole

The photo is a picture of a painting done by Megan Poole.