It seems I was right on target again.
Last night, I ran into the deacon of the church where once I was gainfully employed and it seems karma has come 'round, baby, in a big way.
"Oh, he's a son of a bitch," was the answer to my inquiry as to how the new priest is working out. (Readers may remember that the previous pastor was a thief. Sadly, this is all true as he was taking church money and putting it in an out of town account. He got caught, got sacked, left far before his scheduled time and was sent to Wheeling-a sentence unto itself.)
"He never finishes anything, but he's got his hands in everything."
When I met the "new" pastor (now having been there three years), he dribbled over several times in sincere apologies (at least three) about how I had been wronged by the thieving pastor before him.
I didn't like him.
I found him to be self-absorbed and a bit egotistical. I know that's the pot-kettle thing, but he rubbed me the wrong way.
I thought I was there for a job interview, but he was clear that he wanted me to first join the church and then put me on some advisory committee.
The pastor told me that, despite no one single person had a single negative thing to say about me, he felt it was wrong to rehire me.
Seriously? After nearly twenty years of being a music minister, I am now a bumbling, old dude who used to be? What? Are you tripping? Here's why:
"He just just wants to be the star, the center of everything," my deacon friend dished out even more. "He won't let me preach either."
"Not once??"
"No. Never."
It is the pastor's prerogative to allow the deacon to preach, but "never" is a sure sign of someone not wanting the spotlight to be anywhere but on himself. Sad, sad, sad. The priest has even banned his wife from singing. They are all, but dead wood.
And here's the sweetest part of this deal: they are stuck with him, my weekends are free of both obligation and politics, but best of all: I was right.
I was right. I was right. I was right.
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