A Rose By Any Other Name

Warren and Mattie Jean Petty, members of Arvada United Methodist Church, had a son, Jim, and two effervescent daughters, Linda and Kathy. I had crushes on both Linda, who was a year older than me, and Kathy, who was the same age as me. So much time has passed that I can’t really remember if the infatuations were consecutive or concurrent. We were all active in youth group, and Linda headed off to Nebraska Wesleyan University a year before Bob, Paul and I. Linda and I were friends at NWU, but nothing more, and the last I heard from her she was headed for the Iliff School of Theology in Denver to pursue work in the area of Christian education.

So, it was no little surprise to learn that one Linda Petty was the Christian education director at Las Vegas Trinity. It was even more of a surprise to learn that it was not the same Linda Petty. Trinity’s L.P. was anything but bubbly, and not knowing of the association I had made from my past she felt no compunction to be the least bit friendly. Indeed, most of the Trinity staff seemed to feel that John Cox had gotten a raw deal (which he had) and may have resented my appointment as some sort of contrivance between Nate Holt and me. I still don’t know what the connection between Rick Altman and Petty was, but it didn’t take long to realize that they were in cahoots in their undermining all things conference related in order to strengthen their position locally. That I expressed a real interest in religious education did nothing to enhance my standing with Linda or Rick.

Throughout this “journal” I have made reference to the United Methodist tax known as “apportionments”. Anyone who has endured each entry has probably realized that apportionments have a way of affecting the relationship between the local church and the annual conference. This was especially true at Trinity because of its preschool, a virtual institution in west Las Vegas. The preschool was the money maker, and the church had been cooking the books for a lot of years to keep the enterprise’s income hidden from the conference. The arrogant disdain held for Las Vegas’ churches by the rest of the conference only made this easier. Understandably, then, to have the D.S.’s “boy” appointed as the new associate raised red flags for all those who had survived numerous pastoral appointments.

What no one understood, including myself, was that Nate wasn’t even remotely interested in what was going on at Trinity. Only later did I learn that his obsession had become the persecution of the openly gay Metropolitan Church that was attempting to establish itself at one of Las Vegas’ struggling UM churches. Saul’s persecution of the early Christians paled by comparison to Nate’s single-minded routing of the effort. At any rate, there was justifiable concern among the Trinity staff that, while Don Smith had just affably gone along with anything if it meant getting to hold a young child on his lap, I might really throw a wrench into the works. And Trinity’s L.P. was up to her neck in complicity.