Ch. 19 | The Shepherd and the Snake

Pastor Erik sat in his office, preparing for his next meeting with the Ellisons. They had only recently joined the congregation, and the prominent Dr. Ellison had requested a sit-down—with his wife present. Erik had only interacted with them briefly, but he believed it was vital to know the people in his flock. Shaking off the unease from his last gathering with the other pastors, he focused on the task at hand—his church.

By the world’s standards, Erik had enjoyed success. His church was growing fast. Still, he viewed his primary responsibility as shepherding souls, not gathering fans. A blog post he’d written had recently gone viral in Christian circles, prompting some unwelcome visibility. Even so, he tried to remain grounded, rooted in the core belief that wise counsel required actual counseling—something too many pastors had replaced with stage lights and booking fees.

Still, he couldn’t ignore the fact that rapid growth had distanced him from some of his members. As the church swelled, it became increasingly difficult to remain in the weeds with everyone. He understood that spiritually—and practically—but it didn’t sit well with him.

Then there was Eli.

His mentor had known him since childhood. Growing up in the Bay Area, Eli was like an older brother—the steady presence in a chaotic home. When Erik’s father, a respected but deeply flawed clergyman, would spiral on his benders, Eli was the one who would sneak him out to get burgers or sit with him in the back of church on Sunday mornings. Eli had been a lifeline—and eventually the one who encouraged him to go to seminary.

When Erik was a teen, his father succumbed to cirrhosis of the liver. It had rocked him to the core, but it also solidified his resolve: I will never become that man.

Soon after, he left California and headed to Las Vegas for seminary. That’s where he met his future wife—then a nursing student. From the start, Erik knew she was different. He also knew he needed divine intervention to not mess it up.

Having grown up in dysfunction, Erik prayed for the tools to be a spirit-led partner and preacher. Over time, with good mentors and even better grace, he matured into the man he had long hoped to be. His loyalty was to Christ, not his own image. Which was why the increased attention on his ministry unsettled him.

He was just finishing his thoughts when Eli walked in.

“Brother!” Eli greeted with a wide grin. “Your star is rising.”

Erik smiled, but the expression didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I just hope people are learning more about Christ.”

“They are. And now that your name’s circulating, the Vegas conference board is tapping you for a last-minute spot.”

Erik blinked. “Aren’t those events planned out months in advance?”

“They are, but Pastor Jacob Diaz dropped out—some extramarital nonsense,” Eli said, waving it off like a parking ticket. “They need a replacement, and fast.”

“I don’t know,” Erik said, uncertain. “I try not to chase after these things. I’m where I need to be.”

Eli sighed, exasperated. “Erik, come on. The mission of the Church is growth. Why would you deny God’s will just because you’re uncomfortable?”

He had a point. Still, something in Erik resisted.

“Well,” he said slowly, “one conference won’t kill me.”

“Praise Him,” Eli beamed, clasping Erik’s hand. “They want you to use your blog post as the foundation of your keynote. Just—tone down the fire and brimstone.”

Erik’s jaw tightened. That didn’t sit right. But before he could respond, Eli was already out the door.

And the Ellisons had arrived.

He tabled his discomfort for later.

“Sandra, Joseph—welcome,” Erik greeted, rising from his chair.

The Ellisons were new, but Erik had a feeling this meeting wasn’t about getting acquainted.

“Thank you for seeing us, Pastor Erik,” Dr. Ellison said, extending a firm handshake.

The tone was overly familiar. Disingenuous.

“It’s alright to call you Erik, isn’t it?” he added with a bright smile.

“Erik is fine,” the pastor replied, evenly.

“So—what can I do for you both?”

As he said this, he noticed Sandra hadn’t spoken. She sat rigidly, her smile a paper-thin prop.

“Well,” Joseph began, affecting hesitance as he slid a slip of paper across the desk.

A check. Erik glanced at it.

$50,000.

“We wanted to be discreet,” Joseph said proudly. “All for the Lord’s work and all.”

It was an act of God that Erik didn’t roll his eyes. If you wanted discretion, you’d have used the offering box.

Sandra, for her part, looked mortified.

“Thank you,” Erik said neutrally, sliding the check to the side.

Joseph seemed disappointed by his lukewarm response. But he pressed on.

“We’re actually here for another reason,” he said, shifting in his seat.

“Oh?” Erik replied, glancing at Sandra again. Her discomfort had grown tenfold.

“Our daughter,” Joseph continued, “has recently returned home. She’s… troubled. A problem with the bottle.”

“Joseph,” Sandra interjected gently. “That’s not entirely fair. Sam’s a good person. Honestly, the distance between us is more our fault than hers.”

“No,” Joseph snapped, cutting her off. “We’ve always provided a loving home, Pastor. We’re just concerned for her salvation. We’ve always been God-fearing, you see.”

Erik inhaled slowly. He kept his expression neutral, but internally, he bristled.

He’d met enough “God-fearing” men like Joseph Ellison to know the pattern.

If I had to guess, your daughter fears God more than either of you ever have.

“Well,” Erik began, choosing his words carefully, “I think it’s unfair to your daughter to have a conversation about her without her being present. I also don’t know her, and you’re still new to the church. How about this—invite her to a service. And when the time is right, maybe the three of us can sit down and talk.”

Joseph’s body stiffened. His smile evaporated. A shadow passed over his features.

Erik clocked it immediately. There was something dark in him. Something festering beneath the Christianese.

Sandra, by contrast, seemed to relax—if only slightly.

Whatever the trouble was with their daughter, Erik had a strong suspicion it wasn’t her fault.

“Thank you both for coming,” Erik said gently, rising to his feet.

Sandra nodded gratefully. Joseph’s expression remained hard.

Erik knew in his spirit: this wouldn’t be the last time they’d talk about Sam Ellison. Next time, he hoped, Sam would be the one speaking for herself.