Its chief protagonist is a “General Presbyter.” I can hear a swell of response, “The villain!” No, Pastor Stoub avoids that stereotype: The Rev. Angus McPherson is a Scot who immigrated to Texas for university and wound up as a pastor and puzzle-solver and presbytery staffer. And hero. Angus works Mission Presbytery, which includes most of South Texas. He’s married to a foxy Hispanic lass, Angelica, whom he charms in elementary Spanish with a Scottish brogue. That ought to warm the cockles of your corazon.
A major problem of the Shoestring church is that its pastor has gotten himself murdered, in a bizarre but thoroughly Reformed dastardly deed: clocked by a falling Celtic cross. The plot winds through Shoestring’s venially and mortally sinful congregation, and quickly spreads to everyone from the custodian to the associate pastor and the Interim Search committee. Angus cannot stand not being involved in the investigation of the murder of one of his flock. He teams up with the chief of police, Hector Chavez, and occasionally steps over the line of propriety into meddling: he’s Presbyterian. It works. The combination of keen observation and blind luck — attributes known ecclesially as the “perseverance of the saints” — triumphs, and the perp is undone. You’ll be surprised, and glad.
Stoub has a thing for comparisons, chiefly similes. He loves ‘em, corny or clever. They may begin to grate, but they’re worth watching for. He sprinkles them liberally, sometimes three in a row, as active as an Amarillo ant bed in August. My favorites are, “sunset like a geisha’s fan,” and “an organ with pipes like a golden eagle.” Along the way Teaching Elder Stoub tosses in lessons in Presbyterian 101. We learn the meaning of Maundy Thursday, that two people are supposed to count the offering and that (despite the title), Presbyterians don’t have altars. The book isn’t perfect; it shows marks of the pickaxe that hewed it from the Texas limestone. There are typos, and an occasional unexplained time-lapse, as when Maundy Thursday is said to be two weeks away, then instantly becomes “tomorrow night.” There’s an unexplained name-change for the choir director, Charlie Applewhite, who later shows up as Charlie Cosslett. Dr. Stoub has already come out with an improved second version, a benefit of the new “print on demand” publishing method. This book is a pleasant romp through the psyches of church folk in hilly South Texas, and a worthy first assay at novel-craft. As this review was under construction, Pastor Stoub wrote that he was starting “a new Angus.” I’m glad; when it appears I’ll jump on it like a hawk on a junebug.
HOUSTON HODGES, of Huntsville, Ala., is a writer and retired Presbyterian pastor and church leader.
