I Am So Outta Here!

Keeping man in his place has never been an easy thing to do. The enormity of this task sparked the memory of a ministry assignment that put me in close proximity to a then-pastor and a woman named Tressa. This self-guided pastor knew no boundaries. In his mind, the entire congregation belonged to him; therefore, he trespassed far beyond his boundaries . . . especially with Tressa. Tressa’s weak self-image revealed itself through emotional instability and an intense need for affirmation. An impoverished childhood, an insecure adolescence and a young-adulthood filled with poor choices, all set the stage for her co-dependency. As a Christian of many years, Tressa was now growing tired of her lack of personhood and successes, so she decided to seek pastoral counseling for remedy. These sessions were extremely helpful. The entire congregation began to benefit from her therapy. She began to assist in so many aspects of the ministry that it was to no one’s surprise or objection that she became the church’s secretary. But after about a year, Tressa appeared to be under a cloud of dismay. Her vigor was gone, her appearance disheveled, and her expressions were remorseful and repentant. Whenever she attended our quarterly fellowships, she ran to the altar shrouded in tears, imploring God to forgive her sins.

This was not the usual maintenance prayer of repentance as found in Matthew 6:12, where we acknowledge our daily transgressions before the Lord as those who are responsive and sensitive to the holiness of God. This . . . was not that. Clearly, something was going on within this woman. When others would approach her to offer emotional assistance, her pastor would aggressively insist that she be left alone. “Let her have her time with God!” would be the reprimand to all concerned. And since she was his secretary, everyone left her alone. Except for, well . . . me.

Because of our church’s quarterly fellowships, Tressa was assigned to help me administratively, as we would rotate between churches to prepare for these events. As I mentioned in an earlier chapter, typing is not my strength, so Tressa’s ability to type was the assistance I most needed. But I started to notice that whenever she and I would work together at her church, her pastor became increasingly uncomfortable.

Before this, he, his wife, and I would laugh, share scriptural insights, and discuss doctrinal dilemmas over numerous cups of coffee. (A strongly brewed cup of coffee aided in keeping my attention during numerous lengthy conversations.) I had high regard for the pastor and his wife, but I noted a change in his behavior whenever he found Tressa and me working together. Tressa noticed the discomfort as well. One day, after she saw another puzzled look on my face, she said to me, “When I got this job as secretary, the pastor told me that the root word in secretary is the word ‘secret.’ And I can’t afford to lose my job. I should be glad that someone of his credentials would hire someone with as many issues as I have.” With that, she said no more.

My insides fell to the floor. Was she saying what I thought she was saying? She withdrew when I tried to probe for answers and clarity and she avoided me to ensure that I would probe no further. But soon enough, it was revealed by others that she was saying what I thought she was saying. This poor, misguided woman felt sexually beholden to her pastor for favoring her with a job and his counseling time. So that was what the awkwardness was about whenever this adulterous fiend saw us working together. He feared his dirty little secret would be told, especially to someone who regarded him highly.

He manipulated and degraded her with statements such as, “Who else would take the time to walk you through your many problems? Who else would hire you after losing several jobs because of your emotional instability? Need I go on?” he asked with a demonized smirk. And who else would take the time to call, insisting that she be naked, every Saturday night between 7 and 9 while his wife was at the church preparing it for Sunday service? Who else would offer her such self-serving validation except for him: her pastor. But this . . . she must, as his secretary, keep “secret.”

He was using the truth of her flaws for his own gain. Yes, she had lost her last two jobs due to emotional issues and lack of conversational sophistication. It was also true that she suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder as a result of parental neglect and childhood mishaps. But none of those “truths” disqualified her from the blessings of God and a chance to grow—and thrive, if only the pastor would feed his sheep and not fleece her! And I will give you pastors according to mine heart, which shall feed you with knowledge and understanding (Jeremiah 3:15 KJV).

The pastor who had once offered ministry that healed had now made Tressa his own personal commodity. Whenever she attempted to withdraw from the affair, he would threaten to fire her or show up at her home with clenched fists. He would use the truths of her circumstances against her in order to seduce, to deceive and keep her beholden to his lustful appetite. Hear what God has to say on this: They are greedy dogs with mighty appetites; they never have enough.

They are shepherds who lack understanding; they all turn to their own way, each seeks his own gain (Isaiah 56:11 NIV).

THIS was why Tressa had been shrouded in remorse and sprawled upon the altar. She had not the emotional and spiritual apparatus to extricate herself from the pastor’s vile and unlawful grasp—and he was well aware of that fact. He was just a low man in a high place: a small man in a big hat.