Chapter 27: Letter from Prison

I obey.

I have no choice.

The next several months sees me toeing the line to make sure Pastor Jock is pleased with me, and that I’m being a Good Woman, subservient to the Male role in the Church. It’s kind of like a little survival game, this is not my belief system but Pastor Jock’s, and since DH is still a pastor here, I have to do whatever I can to stay alive for Season 2. In prison you observe the house rules and obey the pecking order, or there will be hell to pay. I am still allowed on the creative team, and can do worship-related things as long as there is a male leader present, and I’m still allowed to lead worship for the teens, because by golly you can lead boys, but not men. Apparently when your male pupil turns 18, whatever wisdom you had as a woman somehow spiritually expires. POOF it vanishes like virginity at a frat party. Retirement savings at a casino. Brain cells at a coke bender and now not only do you magically have nothing to teach him, but he also has authority over you, because he has the proper bits.

Patriarchal authority is sooo weird.

And I can’t even really be mad at him. Pastor Jock is adhering to his belief system and doing what he believes is the Right Thing, just as I did in the stricter churches, he is living out what he believes, and I have learned throughout this ordeal that you will never win against a belief system. Just ask the Middle East.

Beat down, taught what I’ve been taught, and gaslighted by the new regime because I’m the batshit crazy one for having believed women can lead, I buckle down and do as I’m told. Mentally, I return to where I was under Pastor Strict.

I do what I can, and decide to make the best of things, though every now and then I make the mistake of saying how I really feel about this new direction. DH is also feeling like he wants to adjust his role, and he requests an alteration in his position, problem being he wishes for me to take over some responsibility. As you might expect, Pastor Jock is not fond of this idea.

The services are no longer fun, I spend my prayer time begging for God to help me with this clusterfuck.

A high point for me during this disaster was a Christmas staff dinner in which Pastor Jock thanked each one of us for what we had done this year.

When he got to me he simply said, “Monica, you have done everything I’ve asked of you.” It was true, the cringeworthy bit being the utter joy I had in my acquiescence, in my obedience, in my setting aside who I am, living my life to please this man. He was happy with me! Oh Boy! I hoarded these pitiful crumbs he tossed my way and resolved to continue doing the best I could to obey him, it was the Right Thing To Do. By now I was barely myself, that Monica is one shell of a woman, let me tell you! Not much of Monica left any longer, though, just a machine set up to perform duties requested. What would you like? Okay, that’s what I’ll do. My self esteem was shot, my boundaries trampled, my carefully tended roses uprooted and crushed by the bloated rambling tank of the rockstar prophet. The Churchies won, they have their yes man.

Speaking of Churchies, they have been hosting a continual parade through Pastor Jock’s office, and DH and I know… allllll of those complaints about the music, anger from those who didn’t get what they wanted on the worship team, and anyone else who is upset with us about anything, is now getting their chance on the soapbox, Pastor Real’s protection now a puff of smoke in the wind. This is Pastor Jock’s first run as lead pastor, and he has zero experience in any sort of musical or arts leadership, and would have no way of knowing that no matter what music you put up front at a church, some will complain bitterly about it. All musicians know this, where there is music, there is an opinon. Pastor Jock listens, and listens, and listens to any and all complaints. A case against us is being constructed, and we have no idea except we are starting to get the weird side-glances and conversations abruptly ending as we approach, unnnerving signs the tide has turned against us.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, one of the main complainers is, of course, good old Mother Superior. In Chapter 23, I introduced a friend whom I had chosen not to spend time with any longer because I had finally established boundaries with this control nut. Another is a man, let’s call him Joe Sham, who has been telling me for years how meaningful my worship leading is to him, how moving, how Spirit filled, my goodness sistah Monica, you did usha me into the presence of the Lawd. Yeah, he was a bit much, but at least he was appreciative, and supported us.

Until I am talking with a close friend on the worship team, a comrade who is similarly less than thrilled with all of the new changes. I am venting about how our ministry is getting thrown under the bus, and in conversation, I comment how supportive Joe Sham has been, and how he has always been a great help in the choir, in the community, just an all around great…Waaaiiit a minute.

VWOOOOOOOP the needle skids across the record.

The more I extol the virtues of Joe Sham, the more uncomfortable my friend looks.

He is turning gray.

WHAT?? I ask him.

“Monica… he is no friend.”

First swearing me to secrecy, (which hopefully didn’t include the presence of this story in a book 14 years later) he confides in me that Joe Sham has been talking shit about us to Pastor Jock for months. Sham is the one who made the accusation that I was dancing lasciviously, Sham thinks I need to be gone. DH had confided things to Sham in a men’s group promoted as totally confidential, Sham went and ratted out DH’s private and very personal struggles to Pastor Jock. This asshat has been criticizing us both far and wide, all while bringing me a mask of lies, a deception, a complete fraud that he’s our greatest supporter. Yes, this is 100% the same guy who comes up to me almost every week extolling my virtues, almost uncomfortable conversations with over the top gushing and now I know why it always seemed so damn weird.

Who is this guy? Why would he do this, why the sour grapes? Once the deception was revealed, I wondered if it was because Sham had lost his own ministry license years ago when he had an affair. I also found out years later when talking to a friend outside of church who lived in the community and worked in a local business in which Sham was also hired, is that Sham was known to the girls as a total creeper, a man that would hang around giving unwanted attention to my friend, awkward lengths of time while she was stuck behind her desk having to field the violation of personal space. Meanwhile, in the church, he was held up as a virtuous stalwart, a person to look up to, a mentor. I’m really getting sick of these bullshit people.

But his opinions, and others like him, instead of being deflected by Pastor Real, is now lavishly dished out and swallowed up by Pastor Jock. Our reputation with him is being brought down by this clan of Churchie naysayers.

One meeting I remember, I don’t remember what it was about, but I do know that the old Monica and her boundaries made a surprise appearance, and I actually stood up for something, I don’t remember what, but I do recall this being an extremely unpopular idea with Pastor Jock. We argued, and I gave up and sat down, in tears once again, knowing in Pastor Jock’s eyes, I had made the unforgivable sin of questioning him in a meeting.

I failed the obedience test.

And there would be hell to pay.