Opinion

Mayor Horace Cumberland looked at the next document in the stack in front of him. Mary was flipping pages, summarising content, and pointing to the correct place to sign each one. Up came the building permit and formation documents for the First Apostolic Church of Groundswell, which was asking to build on the original site.

“Their membership voted to go ahead and provided $120,000 seed money last month.” explained Mary. “Their board of directors cleared all the other hurdles and is ready to break ground with your approval. Sign there.”

Horace signed the document, flipped the page to the letter requesting expeditious processing of their IRS tax form 1023 — the form that asked officially that they be recognised as a religious organisation. Churches didn’t need this form, but they could file it if they wished to be detailed and transparent in their financial activities. Some pastors feared government interference in their preaching would eventually happen, so they just claimed that their tax exempt status descended from the main church organisation’s tax exempt status.

“Paul sure is taking great pains to keep everything transparent and legal” observed Horace. “That is most unusual for a church, but I think it is forward thinking and very responsible.”

“Some of the board were concerned about that” replied Mary “but with the number of underhanded manipulations going on these days, Paul felt that absolute transparency was the proper path.”

“Well,” said Horace “He has my blessing, and hopefully this letter requesting expedition of the process will get his app. approved in less than the year and a half it normally takes. Wish we had more solid citizens like those folks.”

Horace paused, laid his pen on the table and leaned back in his chair to stretch, and more so, so that he could carefully look at Mary. “That is where your grandfather’s church was located. Is this all happening too fast for you. Should I slow it down?”

“No Horace” answered Mary, a far away look coming into her eye. “For fourteen years I have been frozen in emotional cold storage. Fourteen years, dead to this world — no emotions, no daring to care, always feeling my life ended that day when they hung grandpa and killed almost everyone I knew. No, building this church feels like closure. It feels like now we are finally back on track — like I am coming out of limbo and starting to belong again. It feels like I am finally getting back what belongs to me and to this community.”

Horace smiled. Since Mary became involved in that church she had been a different person. She had always been efficient, capable, precise. But so cold. As if she were just a clay body with a computer inside. Now she was a living being. “I hope for your sake this all works as you think it will” he smiled. “That’s the best church that has ever been in these parts. Every other church is out to get its members, their money, and take its share of community resources. They show up with their hand out and if I don’t put money in it they are gone in a blink. These people have never asked for anything and they helped heal this community of a bunch of stuff that has haunted us for years.”

“The preaching is helpful to, Horace” smiled Mary “if you ever care to visit you’ll not leave the same. This next document is the community council’s legislation on recycling and rubbish removal…”