God's Man in Texas examines why some are called and why others don't answer
by Paige M. Travis
As I write this, a dazzling array of Hollywood actors are assembled for the Academy Awards. Dressed in their fancy clothes, they represent the opulence and extravagance of Hollywood's film industry. Some are caught up in the glamour, the huge paychecks and their status as celebrities. But others seem more intent on being artists, crafting their careers to an ultimate purpose.
This is kind of like the world presented in God's Man in Texas, a play about the world's largest Baptist church and the two men at odds to be at its helm.
Rock Baptist Church is like a small city. At its center is a huge sanctuary that holds upwards of 5,000 worshippers. The church campus contains two bowling alleys, schools from elementary through college, a community center, swimming pools and more. At the head of this empire is Dr. Philip Gottschall (Jack Irvin), the hale and hearty 81-year-old pastor who isn't about to retire anytime soon. But that doesn't stop the pastoral search committee from inviting promising pastors from across the country to "audition" for the role of Rock Baptist's next leader. Candidate No. 1 is Dr. Jeremiah Mears (Mikael Byrd), a young pastor from San Antonio who earned his earliest preaching credentials from his father who sold vitamins and saved sinners on street corners.
Mears is well-educated, a family man and a devout fundamentalist. But his sermons aren't "folksy" enough, according to Hugo (Jason Ross), the sound technician who hooks up the pastors with their microphones each Sunday before the televised 10 a.m. service. Hugo is devoted to the church because it keeps him safe from drugs and alcohol. He is chummy with Dr. Gottschall's wife, Mrs. G, and instantly befriends "Dr. M" during his visits to Rock Baptist. As the ultimate insider, Hugo knows what's really going on even when the major players aren't aware. Each Sunday of Mears' guest pasturing gig, Hugo gives him tips on his performance. Hugo and Dr. G talk about the importance of "the numbers": how many people come to each of the three morning services, how many people tune in to the live broadcast, how many people dedicate their lives to Christ after each sermon.
Mears is boggled by the enormity of the Rock Baptist operation, and as the play progresses, it becomes clear that he's not so sure how interested he is in taking the job, if it ever comes available. Dr. G is in no hurry to give up his post. He's resentful of the pastoral committee, and he's passive-aggressive toward Dr. Mears. He praises then criticizes him, treats him like a son and then like a rival. Ultimately, Mears must decide what is the best way to honor his spiritual mission and the memory of his missing father—by becoming pastor of Rock Baptist or seeking his destiny elsewhere.
Byrd portrays Dr. Mears as a confident man appropriately humbled by Rock Baptist and its controlling pastor. He's smart and capable, but he grows visibly intimidated as Hugo reveals just how much is riding on his first sermon as guest pastor. Byrd's strong and knowledgeable voice is perfect for a Baptist preacher. He looks trustworthy, like Bill Pullman, plus he has lots of hair, which always works in a preacher's (and politician's) favor.
He starts out as a polite guest in Dr. G's sanctuary but grows frustrated as he's yanked around by the manipulative senior pastor and emotionally conflicted as he's drawn into Hugo's confidence. And as Mears finally chooses his path, Byrd makes the final scene touching and intimate as befits a man speaking privately to his divine father.
Jack Irvin does a mostly just-so job of expressing the complicated Dr. Gottschall. The casting was right: his height makes him naturally imposing, and his age, though not 81, makes him clearly the young pastor's superior. But his very low voice and occasionally poor enunciation makes some of his lines disappear into one loud rumble. And in the second act, it was unclear whether Irvin was supposed to be getting more irrational due to his anger over having to share the spotlight with the young preacher or whether he was just losing his lines and composure.
As the born-again Hugo, Jason Ross is honest and charming. As he tells Dr. Mears how his life of crime was turned around by the voice of God and a street preacher, Ross is tender and sympathetic without delving into melodramatic talk-show territory. And he subtly reveals his power over both pastors via his communications with the congregation, the pastoral search committee and the all-important Mrs. G. Amid the power struggle between the two pastors, pious and power-hungry, Ross remains human and vulnerable. He's a pleasure to watch.
The set of God's Man in Texas is the most impressive in recent Bijou history. It features a towering wooden pastor's lectern and the minister's plush office, all in front of the sanctuary's huge cross. These are the rooms of a wealthy Baptist church. The lighting and soundtrack of a gospel choir further creates the atmosphere of a house of worship.
In the tradition of Cumberland County Playhouse productions, God's Man in Texas is heartfelt, timely and entertaining. It's not necessarily a play for those who haven't been to church in ages, but more for those who like Baptist humor and need a little reaffirmation of faith.
March 28, 2002 * Vol. 12, No. 13
© 2002 Metro Pulse
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