I still recall those foggy days of my early attempts at preaching. A new college graduate, I was working for two years in a cast iron pipe plant just outside Birmingham while trying to pastor tiny Unity Baptist Church up the highway at Kimberly before heading to seminary in New Orleans. Although a Baptist, I had attended college at a Methodist school, had majored in history and political science, and about the only thing I knew about the Bible were the smidgens of sermon-and-Sunday-School-lesson leftovers from growing up in church. On my lunch hour, I would open the Scriptures and read. Mainly, I was looking for a sermon for the following Sunday, and mostly, I found the Bible to be an intriguing mystery. Intriguing, because I was drawn to its wisdom and stories, and mysterious because I never could seem to crack its code. Since I did not have a clue as to what I was doing, my sermon-chasing consisted of searching for key verses or fascinating stories to jump off the page and grab my attention. My reading was more scanning than studying. Pity those thirty people who sat in my congregation on Sunday. I’m forever grateful to them for letting me learn on them.
Taking a bullet for the pastor
Pastor and seminary educator Gordon MacDonald relates an incident from 1966, early in his ministry at a time when our nation was polarized over racial issues. Gordon had become friends with the pastor of the only African-American church in that southern Illinois community, so when trouble broke out between white and black young people, the two ministers decided to get together and talk.
At Gordon’s invitation, the other pastor brought several carloads of young men and women into the MacDonald home for a lengthy discussion. Then, they invited other community leaders to join the dialogue. As a result, the community came together.
“I assumed all my church members would be thrilled,” said Gordon.
One week later, at a meeting of church leaders, a deacon stood to announce his displeasure with Pastor Gordon over this incident. The pastor had betrayed his ministry by engaging in “social gospel” activities, he claimed. The pastor had no business interfering in the African-American community. Unless he renounced what he had done and wrote a letter of apology to the newspaper and promised never to do such again, the deacon would resign from the board and leave the church.
MacDonald says, “It was a tense moment.” When the man sat down, silence filled the room. Everyone waited to see what would happen next.
Words To Stand You On Your Feet
Everyone needs a verse of Scripture to call his own. Here is mine.
Old Job was having a time of it. After the death of his children and the loss of his wealth, disease racked his body, leaving him covered with sores. Then, three friends showed up to comfort him–with accusations and blame. He needed a defense attorney and got instead three prosecutors!
The first speaker begins to set Job up for a fall. He’s going to accuse him of having sin in his life which has brought the judgment of God. But first, he reminds him of the way God has used him in the past.
“Your words have stood men on their feet; you have helped the tottering to stand.” (Job 4:4)
Tell me if that is not one of the finest attributes one man could ever pay another. It has become something of a goal for my preaching, that my sermons would be so filled with life and faith that the falling and the fallen would hear and stand up again and get back into life.
What power words have…
When I Was A Stranger
It was Monday and I was headed for Alexandria, three hours away, for our annual Louisiana Baptist Convention due to get underway at 5:30 that evening. I’ve made the drive from our New Orleans home so many times–Interstate 10 through Baton Rouge to LaFayette, north on Interstate 49 to Alexandria–that I needed a change of scenery. That’s why I took highway 190 out of Baton Rouge, through the sugar cane country toward Opelousas, then north on 71 to Alexandria.
In the little town of Bunkie, I came upon a gasoline war of sorts, with service stations selling their stuff for $1.75 a gallon. I stopped to fill up and noticing the time, asked the attendant, “Where’s a good place to eat around here? A plate lunch.” He said, “The Bailey Hotel. One block past the light, then left one block.”
The sign in front says the Bailey was built in 1907, although the building has that fresh, springlike appearance like someone has just sunk some money into this place. Inside, I was the only diner in the restaurant, unless you counted the happy chattering of the Lions’ Club on the other side of the partition. As I sat there eating the special of the day, a little white-haired lady entered the room and began rearranging flowers. She greeted me and said something, and in a minute she was standing at my table telling me about the Bailey Hotel.
“I told my son not to buy this place three years ago. But he bought it anyway. And we’re glad. We love it. Although we need to get the word out on the rooms. These 30 rooms could use some customers.”
Generous Father, Miserly Children
As a child of the Depression, Jim Lancaster was poorer than most of us can imagine. When a church in his neighborhood announced they were having a vacation Bible school for two weeks, and at the end, each child would receive a free popsicle, Jim determined to attend. He had never actually tasted a popsicle, but he had seen them, and in 1930s Florida, anything cold and refreshing was a welcome treat.
Little Jim did not miss a day. Then, on the last day, the worker gave the children God’s plan of salvation. “You can be saved,” she said, “by praying and asking Jesus to forgive you of your sins and come into your heart.” She added, “If you want to do this, get up right now and come with me now. However, you will not get a popsicle.”
Out of over 200 children, two boys came forward, Jim being one of them. Years later, both of those boys became preachers of the Gospel.
Conversations About Stewardship
Barry is the treasurer of his church. A few days ago, he sat in my office and told me of the financial trouble his church had found itself in. They are running some thirty thousand dollars behind their million dollar budget. I said, “Do you have unpaid bills?” “No,” he said. I said, “And your church is without a pastor?” “Right.” I said, “Friend, you don’t have a financial crisis. Your church is doing just fine. Besides, you’re going to get a new leader. The offerings will go up once he arrives and begins his ministry. Stop worrying.”
On the other hand, a new pastor told how his church is not responding to his sermons on stewardship. “In fact,” he said, “the Sunday after I preached on giving, the offerings actually went down. I’ve been in the pastorate a long time, but never had that happen.”
I said, “I think I know what happened.” He was all ears. I said, “Not all churches are alike. Some have members with deep pockets. When the church gets behind financially, the pastor brings it to their attention, and they bring in the money, and the crisis ends. However, I’ve known your church for many years. You don’t have wealthy people. So, they’re not going to be able to respond immediately to your stewardship lessons. But just stay the course. Keep telling them. They’ll come through.”
Counterfeit Fatigue And Authentic Rest
My friend Windy Rich had had a demanding week. When he arrived at church that Sunday morning, the associate pastor met him at the door and asked him to read a passage of Scripture in the worship service. Windy scanned it hastily, then, assured that he knew it, walked to the pulpit and intoned, “He that humbleth himself shall be exhausted.”
I’ve been thinking about fatigue lately. Not enough to exhaust me, you understand, but still…
What started it was finding an old journal and going over some notes on one of the busiest days of a long pastorate. It went something like this…
Things We Will Understand Some Day
Something happened to me today that brings back the absolutely most painful memory in my 42 years of pastoring churches.
That morning a long time ago, the phone rang at 4 a.m. Instantly awake, I grabbed it and heard a local doctor’s wife say, “Joe, Carlos just called from the hospital. He said, ‘Honey, pray for me. I’ve lost Rebecca’s baby and I’m losing Rebecca.'” I said, “I’m on my way.”
Rebecca’s husband Arlen was the lone tenant of the waiting room. He was pacing, crying, praying. We hugged and prayed and I sat down with him to wait and share his suffering.
Arlen and Rebecca had easily been the most popular junior high school teachers in our town, until he quit to take a job with a local plant in order to earn a better living for his family. Rebecca stayed home and started having babies. This would be their third child. The others, perhaps 2 and 4, were the most beautiful little girls anyone had ever seen.
For some reason, Rebecca had had a premonition about this birth. Even though the pregnancy seemed normal in every respect, she told Dr. Carlos, “When I go into the hospital to have this baby, I want you to stay with me until it’s over. Do not leave the hospital.” He gave her his word and kept it.
Gospel Of Mark Cartoons
32 cartoons to illustrate the “2005 Winter Bible Study” for Southern Baptists. These are free for your use in teaching (for use with ‘powerpoint’, overhead projectors, etc), but there is a small charge for magazines and books wishing to use them. for info.
What Every Pastor Needs #4: The Holy Spirit
You’re Going To Be Needing The Holy Spirit More Than You Ever Imagined
The church I served for nearly 14 years and left last Easter is in the process of calling a new pastor. To the utter surprise and delight of almost everyone in the church, the committee has recommended a 27-year-old doctoral student at the local seminary who has incredible gifts in a hundred directions–but absolutely no pastoral experience. Sound scary to you? Does to me. For him more than for us.
I heard him preach Sunday night and could see why everyone who hears him comes away impressed by a depth of maturity far beyond his years. The pastor search committee did not play it safe, but–choose your metaphor here–was willing to think outside the box, color outside the lines, take some risks to do what they perceived the Lord commanded.