A Southern Noir: Deception by Any Other Name

Chapter 4

I got up early on Sunday and made my famous pancakes for breakfast. It's not a secret family recipe; it's from the instructions on the back of the box. I add a teaspoon of vanilla to the mixture; that's the big secret. Emilie and the kids love it when I make pancakes on Sundays.

After breakfast and showers, we were on our way to church. We attend Liberty Baptist Church, about six miles from our house. It's not the biggest church in town, but that's the way I like it. The congregation is friendly and not so big that you get lost in the crowd. If you want to be active and find a ministry to be part of, there's a place for you. I can't say that I'm the most active member of the church, but I enjoy our time here on Sundays.

I grew up in a small town about half an hour east of Birmingham. The people there are nice enough, but it's not the most modern or forward-thinking place you'll ever find. I'm not saying I'm overly enlightened or anything of that nature, but I always felt out of place.

I'm not a good Southerner in many ways. Besides believing in Jesus and watching college football, I don't engage in many basic staples of small-town Southern living. I don't hunt or fish. I don't like country music. I'm not a fan of traditional home cooking. I'd rather read a book than go mud riding or camping. I prefer watching a movie to going to the lake. Then there's my complete lack of athletic ability.

God must certainly have a sense of humor. How else can it be explained that I grew up in a place so opposite to all my interests? The only place I fit in was church. It was the one place I felt safe and confident enough to be me. My youth group was my world. They were some of the best friends I ever had. In short, my church was my shelter. My faith was and is my sustainer, but it doesn't mean that I felt like I completely fit in.

For instance, I'm not fond of some churches' traditional organ and piano music. I'm a fan of hard rock music and don't care much for country or bluegrass. The problem was that even when I listened to Christian rock music, I was told that it didn't matter how much they said in a song they loved Jesus; their music was still of the Devil. I never followed that logic. Of course, most of the music I listened to growing up had nothing to do with Jesus at all, to be honest. Still, it's nice to be part of a church where there are other instruments than piano and organ on Sundays.

The church was off Highway 31, a few miles from Brookwood Hospital. The building didn't look like a church at first. It was a large red brick multi-story building without a steeple. There were large windows at the front of the building. Several classrooms and the youth suite were located upstairs, while the sanctuary was on the main floor. The nursery and a parlor were located downstairs on the bottom floor.

"Good morning," said the greeter as we entered the church. We dropped the kids off at their Sunday School classrooms before we went to our class. When we arrived, three couples were around the tables in the center of the room.

"Good morning, how are you?" asked Pauline Weathers as we took our seats. "Emile, did you get the pictures of the kids I sent?"

"Yes, I did. They were so cute. Annette enjoyed Bible School so much. Thank you for teaching,"

"I enjoyed having her in my class. Hunter, did Annette show you the craft she made?"

"Yes, she did. Where did you get the idea to make picture frames out of popsicle sticks?"

"It's in the teacher's guide. I'm not creative, but I thought they turned out well."

"Hunter, we're having Brotherhood Breakfast in a couple of weeks. Can we count on seeing you there?" asked Pauline's husband, Bill.

"I guess so. I don't see a reason not."

"Great, see you there."

More people arrived as it got closer to the 10:00 am start time. Most Sundays are like this. People from various occupations and walks of life spending a few minutes together having pleasant conversations. Sure, there are the pretenders and holier-than-thou types, but most of us are genuine in our faith.