Slow Down Your Sermon: What the preacher can learn from a motorcycle

I’m on the interstate, solidly in the middle of the pack of motorists, holding my own at a comfortable 65 or 70 or even slightly more. Suddenly, from out of nowhere–maybe he dropped down out of the sky!–a motorcycle is all over me, appearing suddenly on my back bumper or just to my left elbow, then swerving around. The noise is horrendous and completely unexpected. He zooms past like he was jet-propelled and disappears into the distance.

I am unnerved.

Honestly, I feel like taking the next exit and finding a rest area where I can pause and get hold of myself, breathe deeply, and regain my composure.

That was frightening.

The cyclist has no idea what he did. Or maybe he did.

Common sense says the fellow under that helmet drives a car from time to time and surely has had the experience of having a daredevil on a Harley materialize out of nowhere and scare the blazes out of him.  Or maybe not.

If he had, he’d never do that to anyone else.

At this point I have a private conversation with the unknown cyclist. No, I do not curse him (really).  In fact, I’m far more likely to send up a prayer that the Lord will “protect that fool and protect everyone he comes into contact with; he’s an accident looking to happen.”

Then, I wish I could tell him one huge thing….

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The mess we make because we like our doctrine soft and easy

“This is a hard saying. Who can hear it?” (John 6:60)

A fellow arguing for a cult religion scoffed at my statement that some doctrines are difficult and sincere Christian people differ on their interpretation.

“If it’s difficult,” he said, almost yelling with delight, “it’s because you are getting it wrong!”

I knew enough about his religion to be wary of anything he said.  The leaders of that religion grew tired of having to explain away the obvious teachings of Scripture and so they came out with their own translation.  Bible scholars scoff at what they did and Greek/Hebrew linguists assure us that no one involved in that translation–if we want to call it that–was trained and capable of such a mammoth task.

What these people did with Scripture in order to get it simple and make it say what they wanted was akin to a fellow trying to close an overstuffed suitcase by taking the scissors to anything that didn’t fit and snipping it off.  At the end, it closed easily. The only problem is that everything inside was injured.

Beware of anyone telling you there is nothing in the Bible difficult to understand.  (In the same way you want to be wary of those who say nothing in it is understandable. Both are erroneous.)

Something inside us wants doctrines to be simple.

Those people will reject doctrines that are difficult to get their minds around.

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The abundant part of the “abundant life.” Not what we expected.

In 1989, when Margaret and I were dealing with a church situation where the Lord had sent us three years earlier, we found comfort in the 66th Psalm.  Specifically a few verses in the center jumped out at us as we read it on our back porch one evening….

“For you, O God, tested us; You refined us like silver; You brought us into prison and laid burdens on our backs. You let men ride over our heads; We went through fire and water, but you brought us to a place of abundance” (Ps. 66:10-12).

As we were praying a few minutes later, Margaret surprised me with these words: “And Lord, in that scripture you said you were bringing us to a place of abundance.  So, we’re going to claim that right now. Whatever it is and wherever it is. Whether it’s here in this church or somewhere else, we believe you are going to lead us to a place of abundance.”

I had not seen that as a promise. But once my spiritually-sensitive bride spotted it, it made a world of sense.

Thereafter, when we prayed, we frequently thanked the Lord for HIs promise to lead us to a place of abundance.

Not long after, things went south.

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What they are missing who believe we can lose our salvation

Those who follow this blog–thank you for your endurance!–will recall that a few months ago, we posted several assurances of the eternality (is that a word?) of our salvation.  We mentioned two or three of the strongest affirmations of Scripture that one’s salvation, once given by the Lord Jesus Christ, is forever secure.

To our surprise, some protested.

I should not have been surprised. After all, I was raised in a church of the Arminian persuasion that teaches (officially at least) one can be saved multiple times. As a teen, I recall my mother mentioning some in our large family who were Southern Baptist–“missionary Baptists” she called them–who believed in the doctrine familiarly known as “once saved, always saved.”  Mom would say, “They believe you can go out tonight and get drunk and still be saved tomorrow.” Which is true, of course. We do believe that, although that’s not our favorite way to express it. Smiley face, please. (And most definitely not something we encourage. But a person’s salvation has to be stronger than Jack Daniels or we are all in big trouble!)

To be fair, I never once heard a pastor of our home church teach that people may lose their salvation.  The pastors have always seemed certain of our security in Christ.

Anyway, long story short, since some protested and insisted that one can lose his salvation in direct contradiction to the sayings of our Lord, the subject will not leave me alone.  I’d like to return to it, if I may.  (As President Reagan once said, “I paid for this microphone.”  It’s my blog, so I can choose any subject I please. Please smile.)

So you will know, I’m not angry and not even arguing.  (I am a lover, not a fighter.)  Just trying to get at the truth of this most vital doctrine.

It matters a great deal.

Some random thoughts on this subject….

ONE.

Those who believe in the possibility of losing their salvation will quote scriptures which they say we must answer, such as those which speak of “falling from grace” and “making shipwreck.”

I get that, but they are missing something.

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When the bishop shows up in the middle of your sermon. Yikes!

One Sunday morning, many years ago–I must have been in my mid-30s– as I rose to preach, Dr. Ed Young, pastor of the enormous Second Baptist Church of Houston, Texas, sat in the congregation to hear my sermon.  (I was pastoring the FBC of Columbus MS.)

Was I surprised? Discombobulated? Nervous?

Nah. Not in the least.

I didn’t let it faze me but went right on as though he were not in the house.

I didn’t know he was in the house.

He told me about it years later.  (Not sure how I would have handled it had I known. Smiley-face here.)

In college, the dean of education cautioned all us future teachers. “One day the superintendent of education will walk into your classroom. He (or she) will take a seat on the back row and motion for you to go on with your lesson.”

“When that happens, I want you to teach as though you know more about that subject than anyone else in the world.”

I never had that happen, but I always remembered the point he was making.

Do not falter or stumble because someone important is in your audience. No stuttering.

Do your job.  Stay the course.

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What outsiders do not understand

“But the natural man does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him, and he cannot understand them, for they are spiritually appraised” (I Corinthians 2:14).

I was sitting in church last Sunday morning thinking about what outsiders say concerning our worship and how we practice the Christian faith.  Most simply do not get it.

1) Some say we are taking the way of Jesus as an escape, that this is an easy way out.

My main response is laughter. It’s anything but easy, but only an insider would know that. You’re swimming upstream in a downstream world. What’s easy about that?

I know people who suffer greatly for the stand they take for Christ.  If it were easy, they’d have bailed a long time ago.

2) Some say we give money to buy God’s approval.

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The most depressing thing about being a pastor–and what to do about it.

“Apart from these external things, there is the daily pressure upon me of concern for all the churches” (2 Corinthians 11:28).

When showing his scars and enumerating his sufferings, Paul ends with a mention of the daily care of the Lord’s people.  That was a great burden also.

You don’t bleed from caring for the Lord’s flock. But you hurt as much as if you did.

The worst part of pastoring, the burden that keeps hammering you down into the ground, is the perfectionism.

It’s not something the Lord puts on us–well, not any more than on anyone else–because “He Himself knows our frame; He is mindful that  we are but dust” (Psalm 103:14). He is under no illusions about any of us. The quickest way to divine frustration, I would think, is for the Father to expect perfection from His children.

He’s smarter than that. Thankfully.

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What a good administrative assistant (i.e., secretary!) does for a pastor

(I purposely did not ask two people very important to me for input into this.  Our daughter-in-law Julie is the outstanding administrative assistant to our terrific pastor and friend, Dr. Mike Miller.  To solicit their input might put them on the spot.  So, the first time they see this will be when we post it.)

Originally, we called them secretaries.  I’ve often wondered if it was because they were “keepers of the secrets.”

Then, seeking to magnify their work in their own eyes as well as to impress upon the church members their importance, we began calling them administrative assistants.  Some call them “ministry assistants.”  All of these are good.

They’re almost always women.

I used to be a secretary. For two years after college, I worked in the production office of a cast iron pipe plant doing everything that secretaries do for the production manager.  I took dictation, typed his letters, ran the teletype, typed up production work orders from the purchase orders, and emptied the spittoon.   Mr. Clyde Hooper, my boss, chewed cigars. He would cut one into three pieces and slip a section into his jaw.  That practice, he told me, resulted from the 1920s in a chemical plant where no one was allowed to smoke. At any rate, having grown up on a farm where I mucked out cattle stalls and hog pens, emptying that spittoon was nothing.

There’s possibly no better training for being a supervisor than having been a lowly employee.  In the church office, I never minded asking my “assistants” to fetch coffee in the morning, because at least they didn’t have to clean out my spittoon! (I clean it out myself.)

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A strange thing happened on the way to the cemetery

(After our recent article on weddings, someone suggested we tell about unusual funerals over a half-century of ministry. Here goes….)

I don’t have any funerals where the “honored guest” got up and walked out, or where the wrong person was discovered to be in the casket, or such foolishness as that. And for good reason.

Funerals are highly structured affairs, regulated by state law and overseen by a whole battery of employees and family members.

When we gather at the funeral home, the family has already been in conference with the mortician on how they want things done. The funeral directors stand nearby to make sure all goes according to plan. As a result, there is usually very little wiggle room there, space for the unexpected to occur.

And that’s not all bad.

I did this one funeral…

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You wanna hear about weddings? I can tell you about weddings…

There was this one wedding….

–Which was attended by Sandra Bullock. I didn’t know it at the time, and learned it later. The famous movie star was all of 10 years old. The bride was her aunt or a cousin of her mama’s or something. (I wonder if she remembers me. lol. )

–Where I called the groom by the name of the best man. Oops.  (Thereafter, I wrote the names of the bride and groom in large letters at the top of my materials.)

–Where I dropped the ring. For years in rehearsals, I’d instructed the bride and groom, “If it drops, let it go. No one will know and we’ll get it later.” And now it happens and I’m the one stooping down to pick it up. Oh, well. Not that big a deal.

–Where the groom was wearing cowboy boots with his formal tux. During the picture-taking, I said to the bride, “Debbie, you should have worn yours.” With that, she hiked her dress up and showed me. She was wearing her boots too.

–Where the bride fainted. See below.

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