Monthly Archives: September 2024

Who gave you the authority to do this?

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My journal tells of this little incident at the local pharmacy.

Saturday night, stuck in the checkout line at the local Rite-Aid, I became involved in a little incident.

The checker was ringing up the purchases of a man about 40 years old who had a small child with him. On the other side of the checker, near the front door, stood an older man, perhaps 75 or 80, who was trying to get her attention. “Ma’am,” he kept saying, “Is it all right if I take this out to the car to show my wife?” He was holding up some item from the store. The checker was giving her attention to the man and child in front of her.

Finally, the customer at the checkout snapped at the older gentleman, “No! It is not all right to take that outside!” The old man was flustered and said, “She’s in the car. I just want to see if this is what she wants. I’ll be right back.”

“No, sir!” said the younger man. “You’re not allowed to take things outside you haven’t paid for!”

The older gentleman said, “Well, what if I leave my umbrella? I’ll be right back.”

“No!” the young man said. “Leave your drivers license.”

Meanwhile, those of us in the checkout line were silently watching this scenario and fascinated at the way the customer was bullying the man at the door.

Finally, the older man said to the customer, “Are you a manager of this store or something?”

The younger fellow said, “No, I’m not. But I know how these things are done!”

I’d taken about all of this I could. From the back of the checkout line, I called out to the old man, “Sir! You may ignore the customer. Do what you have to do!”

The younger man turned and stared at me contemptuously, took his child by the hand, and stalked out.

As he exited the door, the manager arrived and took care of the older gentleman. The woman in front of me turned and said, “Who in blue blazes did that fellow think he was, talking to that old man that way?” I laughed and agreed that he was definitely a buttinsky.

When I got home and told me wife this little tale, she–filling the role of a wife so neatly–said, “And who did you think you were, rebuking him like that?”

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Getting ready for the final exam

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“Pastor, my aunt Bernice would like you to visit her this week. There’s something she wants to talk with you about.”

I knew this young deacon’s Aunt Bernice. She was up in years and sickly, and while not a member of our church, she was related to quite a number. I figured with her years and health, she wanted to talk with the minister about getting read to see the Lord.

She did, but not in the way I had expected.

The next afternoon, as we sat in the living room of her small shotgun house, she said, “Pastor, I know I’m saved. I have no doubt about that. I remember being saved. But there’s something else bothering me.”

“Pastor, I haven’t done right by the church.”

She continued, “As a young adult, I got away from the church and quit going. I raised my son without the church and really came to regret it. And now I’m old and can’t even go. But if you’d let me, I’d like to put my membership in and become a member. I’ll pray for you all and send an offering from my monthly check.”

I assured her we would be honored to receive her, and took care of that the next Sunday.

I never forgot her statement—“I haven’t done right by the church”—and have had occasion over the years since to tell her story, then ask my hearers, “Have you done right by the Lord’s church?”

A man in our congregation was dying. On one occasion as I visited in his home, he asked to speak to me privately. I felt it coming: he wanted to confess something that was bothering him before he went to meet the Savior.

I was right.

“Pastor,” he said, “when I was a much younger man, I did some experimentation in my personal life that I’m ashamed of.”

He told the story, then said, “I’ve asked the Lord to forgive me, but it still troubles me. I don’t want to go into eternity with that on the record. Can you help me?”

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Anyone getting married? May I have a word?

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I wonder if I’m the only normal (!) person around who regularly reads the wedding announcements that run in the Sunday newspaper. Well, “scan them” might be a better word. And I’m not really sure what I’m looking for.

Once in a while, however, it all works out. I stumble on a gem. The Times-Picayune of New Orleans, for instance, ran the article on the “Farmer/Shorty” wedding. The names alone will make you stop and read.

I’m going to assume the bride’s mother wrote the article. Here it is in its entirely, followed by a few notes about weddings….

Therefore a man will leave his father and his mother, and will cling to his wife; and they will be one flesh. (Genesis 2:24) Dr. Vernon James Shorty and Mrs. Sandra Ann Seaberry Butler along with close family and friends are proud to announce the engagement of their daughter and #1 girl, Chyna Akelia Shorty to Alphonso Lorenzo Farmer, son of Sandra Ann Brown.

Chyna and Renny met April 23, 2009, while embracing their single years at Door 44 in Atlanta. There, he asked if he could take her to dinner, Chyna’s response was not what Renny had in mind. After a month, persistence paid off, guess you could say he got his way after all. God’s enabling force blossomed there love soon after, and they have become inseparable as their love has grown over the year.

The bride to be is a graduate of Clark Atlanta University, completing one year of studies in counseling she is currently pursuing her Master’s Degree in Forensic Psychology and is the owner of 30Below a whimsical kids experience & clothing boutique in Atlanta, Georgia. The bridegroom is the owner/operator of AF Transport Systems, providing innovative transportation and logistics operations bicoastal.

Renny proposed to Chyna on March 13, 2010, with two elaborate boxes to choose from. Previously getting her father’s permission, and approval, Chyna happily accepted.

The couple celebrated a fabulous weekend of engagement activities with family and friends from all over in New Orleans this past weekend. They will be sealed for time and eternity with a ceremony of close family and friends April 23, 2011 on the lavish island of St John in the Virgin Islands.

The couple plans to make their home and start a family in Atlanta, Georgia.

The photo showed this beautiful lady and a beaming young man who looks like he has just won the jackpot. Maybe he has.

Pastoring since 1962, over the years I have performed a lot of weddings. Some were romantic, some were hastily put together and some were elaborate undertakings Martha Stewart could have learned from.

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Tactic for pastoral success: Start with a big mistake

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In his book, Everybody’s Normal Till You Get to Know Them, John Ortberg makes a confession. You get the impression that it was not easy in coming.

Here it is in his own words:

The church where I work videotapes most of the services, so I have hundreds of messages on tape. Only one of them gets shown repeatedly.

This video is a clip from the beginning of one of our services. A high school worship dance team had just brought the house down to get things started, and I was supposed to transition us into some high-energy worship by reading Psalm 150.

This was a last-second decision, so I had to read it cold, but with great passion: “Praise the Lord! Praise God in his sanctuary; praise him in his mighty firmament!” The psalm consists of one command after another to praise, working its way through each instrument of the orchestra.

My voice is building in a steady crescendo; by the end of the psalm I practically shout the final line, only mispronouncing one word slightly:

“Let everything that has breasts, praise the Lord.”

Ortberg tells what happened next.

A moment of silence. The same thought passes through four thousand brains: Did he just say what I think he did? In church? Is this some exciting new translation I can get at the bookstore?

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