No Time
The man rushed into the spiritual center and approached the
several members who already had gathered in preparation for the
evening’s program. “Have you heard the latest about that so-called
teacher Nate Williams over on the other side of town?” he asked with
breathless exhilaration.
The man’s question was met with silent interest and
encouragement by the seated members. He took a seat, ran his
fingers through his hair in a combing fashion, and expanded further
on his news: “Well, it seems he’s in a real pickle. Apparently, there
are some questions being asked about his use of discretionary funds.
One is hearing the phrase ‘misappropriation of funds’ sung over
there a lot these days.
“Can you imagine it? ... a guy has the gall to try to pass himself
off as a spiritual guide and, in reality, he may be fleecing the flock,
instead of leading them into the pastures of righteousness.” He shook
his head as if he found the whole situation to be an incredible irony.
“The man has the audacity to claim he has taken an oath of
poverty. What he doesn’t say is that his oath seems to involve
relieving others of their money so they become poor, rather than him.
One of the other members of the small group added: “From what
I have heard, the funny business surrounding the center’s finances
is only the tip of the iceberg which has ripped their ship apart.
She looked briefly at each of the others, got the equivalent of a
thumb’s up via their body language, and proceeded to say: “A friend
of mine, who is close to one of the members over there says there
have been quite a few stories floating about concerning sexual
misconduct as well.
The excitement of the hunt was written on her features as she
recounted what she had been told. She noted: “Although no children,
thank God, are involved, apparently a lot of hanky-panky has been
going on during special teaching sessions ... if you get my drift ... in
which, apparently, union with the Beloved has become a code for
something else.”
“I don’t think it stops there,” chipped in another man. “I’ve
heard this Williams guy spends a lot of times drinking in a tavern
downtown, and, then, once the bars close, he heads off to some speak-
easy, or other, for a night of excesses. I guess the only thing he keeps
a night vigil for is to determine whether his glass is empty or full ...
a real drunk if you ask me.”
Another woman joined in the discussion. “I’ve talked with some
of the parents at that center. They don’t seem to be very pleased with
the educational programs which Williams has put in place.
“The guy keeps saying things like one has to talk to people
according to their level of understanding, but the parents are
beginning to think the fellow is just a flim-flam artist. They want
results, and he just keeps stalling them with a lot of hocus-pocus
about how the journey is a long, difficult struggle, with many ups
and downs.”
As the small group was reflecting on all that had been said,
another person walked into the room. She greeted everyone and took
a seat near them.
The newcomer inquired about what was going on, and she was
brought up to date. When she was up to speed, one of the people in
the group asked her what she thought about the entire mess at the
other center.
The woman pursued her lips, raised her eyebrows, and, then,
sighed. “I guess there are a few things which can be said. First, I
understand some of the people in that center have been saying
similar things about our own teacher. Secondly, I really don’t know
what the truth of the matter is when it comes to what their teacher
may, or may not, be doing, but I do know I love and trust our
spiritual guide, and he has told me not to go sniffing out the sins of
other people -- something about people in glass houses or the like. In
fact, I’m so busy with thinking about, and trying to apply, the
teachings of my own guide, as well as with constantly seeking to
remember God, that, quite frankly, I really have no time to think
about Nate Williams.”
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