Trust betrayed

A crisis in congregational life

It was Wednesday. Time to visit my youth intern again. I really, really disliked Wednesday mornings. As I walked out of the office, I said, “Be back around noon,” to my administrative assistant. She knew where I was headed and smiled in support.

I took my time driving across town and walking toward my destination, an austere building. Finally I had to go in. Approaching the window, I took a deep breath, signed in and turned the book around to the deputy. He looked up at me with a flicker of recognition and handed me a card. The door buzzed open and I went through. In a few minutes John was ushered into the room on the other side of the glass. He offered a wan smile, sat down and picked up the phone.


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