beliefs knit people together, they also tear apart. As Jesus said in Matthew, they turn sons against fathers, daughters against mothers.

The faithful hold firmly to God with one hand, family with the other. But sometimes we are forced to choose. If we can't hold onto both, which one do we let go?

In 1991, after 25 years of defining himself by his position in the church, Matt Nevels' faith abruptly and irrevocably collided with the death of his middle son.

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Stephen left Chattanooga for Atlanta in 1985 after graduating from college. He told Matt the jobs were in the big city. And, after uprooting his life, the 24-year-old seemed to do well there.

He worked at Macy's, selling fine china, and drove a Mazda RX-7. He called home regularly and toldhis parents he wasn't skipping Sunday services. He brought friends home, men and women.

Matt was proud. He had retired from working as minister of education at the Hamilton County Baptist Association after a massive heart attack in 1982, and life had settled into a quiet routine. He and Frances continued attending Red Bank Baptist, but just as congregants.

Then, one morning in the fall of 1991, Stephen, 30 years old at the time, called Frances at her job at Provident insurance company and told her he was sick. Something was wrong with his lungs. His breathing was labored.

He called again that afternoon and told her he was being admitted to the hospital. Tests had been ordered, but it looked like pneumonia. He told her to bring his father to