From the Pulpit, Chapter 2

Chapter 2
October 12th, Present Day
Faith Presbyterian Church
Picktown Ohio

As Pastor Michael Farris stepped down from the pulpit at twelve thirty that crisp mid-October Sunday afternoon the sunlight that streamed in through the tall windows of the large church’s sanctuary seemed unusually bright.  Out the windows he could see the start of fall colors as the trees gradually reddened and the small fifty acre corn field next to the church dried into a dusky brown.  The image was peace to his very soul.

He felt that the message he just finished delivering to the five hundred-member congregation of Faith Presbyterian Church, had been good and thought provoking.  Judging by the comments of the congregants as they passed by shaking his hand on their way out his satisfaction was justified.  The sermon had been on the topic of reaching out to others in need of help, regardless of their appearance or their past. 

It was amplified by the presence of two former gang members with whom he had been working for some time, young men in their late-twenties, who had recently completed training as ministers to the inner city gang community.  One of them in particular, LeRon Davis, was especially enthusiastic about his new found calling. 

LeRon had been a major player in a lot of the gang related crime that had plagued the city of Columbus for several years.  He had been in and out of jail since fourteen and as a teen had killed a man.  After getting out of jail for the last time two years ago, at the age of twenty six, he started working his way into the leadership of a drug ring that had command of the markets for cocaine, methamphetamine, ecstasy and heroine throughout central Ohio.

Pastor Mike and a couple of other men from the church had taken to doing street ministry in the hardest sections of the city.  That is where the two men met.  Mike had taken a position on the corner in LeRon’s own neighborhood, a mecca of drug deals and prostitution.  He was boldly preaching his religion out loud to everyone in earshot, which in Mike’s case was nearly two city blocks as his massive chest acted like a bellows pushing the sound of his voice through the air with almost visible force.

At first LeRon had told his dealers to ignore him, but then business started to slack off and was almost half what it had been just before the preacher showed up.  Not wanting to give up his own territory, LeRon approached Pastor Mike with three of his thugs to back him up.

“Yo!  Preacher man!  It’s time for you to leave, punk!”  LeRon exclaimed gesturing in wide arm movements, the fingers fo both hands pointing at Mike in the shape of a gun.

“I don’t think so pal.”  Replied the preacher with a crooked nose, a scarred cheek and a friendly smile.

The gangsters looked at him with somewhat surprised expressions on their faces.  He had just denied the order of the top drug dealer in the city, and had done so in manner that at once made them wonder if he was incredibly naïve or suicidally crazy.

“Excuse me fool?”  LeRon approached him, breaking into his personal space and pushing his chest up against Mike’s.  The two men were about the same size, nearly six feet tall, and both muscularly fit.  While Mike was nearly fifteen years older than LeRon, if it came to blows it would be hard to choose whom to bet on based on physical features. 

Pastor Mike, a former officer in the Marines, had kept himself fit in the years since he left the military.  He also still carried himself with the air of confidence that comes with the kind of training and experiences he had gone through in that career.  It was obvious to LeRon that the preacher was not intimidated by his big words or his reputation. 

In order not to lose face in front of his own followers, the gangster had no choice but to face down this man who dared to rebut his order to leave.

“I don’t think you understand, preacher man.”  He extended the title and let spit shoot from between his teeth at the word preacher.  “This is my territory and you are messin’ with my business.  It is time for you to leave!”

LeRon’s face was only a couple of inches from Pastor Mike’s as he spat out the last words.

Pastor Mike closed the gap to less than an inch, looked in the gangster’s eyes with a fiery ferocity and replied, “It is you who don’t seem to understand Mr. LeRon Davis.  You are on the way to hell and I am here to change that if you will let me.  As far as your drug business is concerned, quit now while the quitting is good, or I will see to it that you are shut down…permanently.”

LeRon got suddenly agitated.  Something about the way this preacher spoke and looked into his eyes made him very uncomfortable. 

“Are you threatening me preacher man?”  He backed up and started to gesture aggressively with his hands.  “Are you planning to take on my whole crew? ‘Cause if you are, you’re gonna need a lot more than just a Bible to defend yourself!”

“Don’t worry LeRon Davis,”  he made sure to pronounce the drug dealers full name out loud, keeping eye contact with him the whole time, “I have all the defense I need.  And you are going out of business.  If any of your crew want to try and change that, give it your best shot.”

Pastor Mike spoke with such a calm, matter-of-fact demeanor, that the men standing behind LeRon started looking around nervously to see if there were any cops nearby. One of the men, grew angry and blurted out, “Do him LeRon, just do him and shut this crazy fool up!”

“You hear that preacher man?  You ain’t scaring us with your holier than thou threats.” Said one of the other men.

“Do him!  Just do him!”

LeRon looked at him with a hateful glare and took a step forward.  “Good idea L’il Mac.  I think he is done.”

There was a click and Pastor Mike glanced down to see that LeRon had just flipped open a switchblade knife in his left hand.  The gangster stepped forward and drew his arm back to prepare for the swipe of the blade, but before he could execute the move was thrown back into the other three men by an explosive kick into the gut from the preacher. The knife flew from his grasp as fell back.

Two of the three men were knocked to the ground and the third rushed toward Pastor Mike only to receive a blow to the side of the head that knocked him to the sidewalk in a heap, leaving the young thug crumpled and unconscious. 

“Hey!” shouted L’il Mac, a short skinny young man in his early twenties who couldn’t have been more than 120 pounds, “You a preacher!  You ain’t supposed to fight like that. What kind of hypocrite are you!”

LeRon jumped to his feet and rushed toward Pastor Mike, hands spread wide to grab him.  As the gangster leaped forward, Mike turned deftly to the right avoiding the younger man’s attempted tackle and at the same time bringing his left knee up towards LeRon’s mid-section, allowing the gangster’s own body weight to drive the blow painfully into his gut. 

He landed hard on the ground, eye’s bulging as he gasped for air.  The other two took a step toward the Pastor, but when he turned and made eye contact with both of them, still smiling, they reconsidered and backed down. 

Two police cars came zipping around the corner at that moment and screeched to a halt.  The still standing young men immediately ran away, one team of police officers taking chase.  The other team of officers stayed and surveyed the scene. 

“OK.  Just, uh, what happened here?”  asked one of the officers, “We were called over saying that a street preacher was being assaulted by some known drug dealers who had threatened to kill him.  I am going to assume that you are the preacher?”

“Yes I am.”  Replied Mike.

“And am I correct in assuming that these two on the sidewalk are the drug dealers?”

“Yes, two of the four.”

“And how is it that you are still standing and they are both…uh…incapacitated?”  asked the other officer.

“I’m the good guy.”  Replied Mike his smile broadening. “We always win.”

The officers got full reports and took LeRon and the other man, who went by the name of Ice-T, to jail, via the hospital.  L’il Mac was also caught, but the fourth was tragically killed when he ran into traffic trying to escape the police officer who was after him.  All three men were sentenced to a year in prison for parole violations and other charges.

Pastor Mike visited LeRon and the others in jail regularly and over time developed a friendship that became deep and strong.  To LeRon, Mike’s consistency and legitimate kindness had endeared him like a big brother. L’il Mac gained a lot of respect for him as well.  In time the three men developed a ministry in the prison that became quite successful and after LeRon and L’il Mac got out a year later they both became members of Mike’s church eventually beginning an effective anti-gang ministry in the city that was drawing more and more at risk youth away from the violence that had previously scarred both of these men’s lives. 

Ice-T, was discovered to have been involved in several gang related murders prior to his recent association with LeRon.  Although Pastor Mike tried to help him to a great degree, and was able to avoid the death penalty, Ice-T, whose real name was Antoine Lavaris Johnson, was sentenced to seven consecutive life sentences, one for each victim.  Eventually Mike lost touch with him. 

Click on the Chapter link you would like to go to:

Check out all of my writing athttp://basilsands.gather.com