“…you have set my feet in a spacious place.” (Psalm 31:8)

Last week, during our revival, I had spent the morning with my host pastor. We visited the local middle school and I spoke with the children in several classes about drawing and then sketched each one.  Afterwards, we went to lunch. Then, around 1 o’clock, I returned to the hotel room, ready for a little nap.

That’s when I saw it.

Opening the door to my room, I stood there stunned.

It looked like a bomb had gone off in the room. Trash was scattered around the floor, and bits and pieces of glass were everywhere. On top of the chest of drawers, larger bits of glass were strewn.  Nothing seemed out of place and nothing had fallen from the ceiling.

I went in search of the maid. Kristen was as shocked as I was. “I came in at 10 o’clock to get your towels,” she said. “I’ve not been back since.”

She went for her supervisor, and she in turn called for the hotel manager.

And then, we saw what had happened.

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(This is our account of a difficult three years in our lives–‘ours’ referring to my wife and me–when we pastored a divided church in North Carolina. The article ran in the Winter 2001 issue of “Leadership,” a publication of Christianity Today.  At the conclusion, we have a few postscripts which may be of interest to some.)

How could I lead a congregation that was as hurt as I was?

My calendar for the summer and beyond was blank. I usually planned my preaching schedule for a full year, but beyond the second Sunday in June–nothing. I had no ideas. I sensed no leading from the Spirit. But it was only January, so I decided to try again in a couple of months. Again, nothing. By then, I suspected the Lord was up to something.

A member of my church had told me the year before, “Don’t die in this town.” I knew what she meant. She didn’t envision Columbus as the peak of my ministry. Columbus was a county-seat town with three universities nearby, and, for Mississippi, cosmopolitan. I felt Columbus, First Baptist, and I were a good match. The church grew. We were comfortable together. My family was settled. Our sons and daughter had completed most of their schooling, and after twelve years, they called Columbus home. My wife, Margaret, and I had weathered a few squalls, but life was good–a little quiet, perhaps even stagnant, but good.

And suddenly I could hear the clock ticking. Did God have something more for me?

First Baptist Church of Charlotte, North Carolina, called in March. I ended my ministry at Columbus the second Sunday of June and began in Charlotte one month later.

After I’d been in Charlotte about a month, the man who chaired their search committee phoned. “I have some people I want you to talk with,” he told me. He picked me up and drove me to the impressive home of one of our members. In the living room were a dozen men, all leaders in the church and in the city. Another man appeared in charge.

“We want to offer you some guidance in pastoring the church,” he said. “There are several issues we feel are important, and we want you to know where we stand.” He outlined their position on the battle between conservatives and moderates for control of our denomination and on the role of women in the church. He wanted women elected as deacons, one item in a full slate of changes he wanted made at the church.

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“For if the ministry of condemnation has glory, much more does the ministry of righteousness abound in glory.” (II Corinthians 3:9)

Going forward into an unknown future is scary.  Going back into a known yesterday is safe, feels secure, and quietens unsettled nerves.

Churches trying to retain the trappings of a 1955 faith and worship services will resist modern developments such as projection screens, PowerPoint, wireless microphones, digital drums, and choruses. Many would rather argue points of theology than face contemporary issues like abortion and same-sex marriage.  They speak of former days as though there once was a golden age of Christianity in this country, and they despair at the form of today’s church.

The politician who can promise his constituents all the glories of an imagined utopia of yesterday–“the Reagan years” or “the prosperity of the Clinton administration” are current favorites–will always find a following. The candidate who insists we deal with today’s realities by plunging headlong into the challenge not so much.

Israel in the wilderness could not visualize the blessings of Canaan, a land only promised but never seen by any of them. And since getting there was proving to be harder and taking longer than they ever expected, many wanted to go back into the slavery and misery of Egypt.  Better the drudgery that we know than the uncertainties we don’t (see Numbers 11:5 and chapter 14).

In the New Testament epistle to the Hebrews particularly, but also here in II Corinthians 3, we are given a striking contrast between the “old system” (called variously the Old Testament, the old covenant, or simply Judaism) and the new way, which is in Jesus Christ.  

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“But thanks be to God, who always leads us in His triumph in Christ, and manifests through us the sweet aroma of the knowledge of Him in every place.” (II Corinthians 2:14)

Scripture ransacks the human language from many lands in its search for ways of conveying the fullness of the salvation which is in Jesus Christ.

At the end of the day, no doubt, the writers (who, of course, had no idea they were writing Holy Scripture) must have laid down their styluses (stylii?) in frustration at their total inability to begin describing all God has done for us in Him. As one said, “Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is too high; I cannot attain to it” (Psalm 139:6).

When the Apostle Paul wrote the Greek believers in Corinth of the triumph which is ours in Christ, he had a particular image in mind, one completely foreign to us, but which offers fascinating insights.

He had in mind a triumphal procession given to Roman generals after a great victory overseas on their return to Rome.

Over forty years ago, I discovered and delighted in the description and discussion of this from William Barclay in his commentary. Rather than regurgitate it in my own words, I want to quote him verbatim, then make a few comments.

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Taking a risk here, commenting on politics.

I’m not taking sides, at least not on these pages. I’m not speaking for Mitt Romney to point out that President Obama made some needless mistakes in the first debate of this presidential election, errors from which pastors can learn important lessons.

Before listing them and making my points, let me say this is not a summary of what the political commentators have been saying. Just my thoughts, for whatever value someone might find in them

Pastors, don’t try to protect your image.

The president’s advisors have said (probably in private, as I can’t imagine anyone saying this publicly) that Obama’s goal was to project himself as “above the fray,” and to “look presidential.” If that was the plan, it was a bad one.

When you are interviewing for a job–and that’s what these debates are–you must at the very least come across as wanting the job.  The president came across as owning the job and resenting the fact that someone else would try to take it away from him.

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Giving thanks is such a beneficial activity, Scripture is saturated with reminders and encouragements and admonitions and enticements.  It is good to give thanks–to one another, yes, but in particular to the One who is the Source of it all: The Living God.

“It is good to give thanks to the Lord….”(Psalm 92:1)

We’re coming up on the Thanksgiving season, everyone’s favorite time of the year.

Wonder why we even have such a season, though.  One would think giving thanks would be like taking the next breath: something we do automatically, constantly, naturally, without needing to be prodded.

I’m reluctant to say what follows, for the simple reason that I make myself vulnerable to someone saying I’ve done the same thing. But here goes….

I have  occasionally knocked myself out for a pastor or a church or a religious group, and gone to great lengths to serve them–sometimes buying a passport and doing the multitude of things one has to do to travel internationally or driving a long distance and enduring the interstates for hundreds of miles–only to return home and never hear  a word from them again. Not a note, an email, phone call, nothing. I would assume they thought the check they handed me said everything that needed saying.

It didn’t.  In no way was my work with them a commercial transaction. We did not sign a contract.

This is a ministry. And a faith one at that.

I simply wonder why some people–not all, thankfully–cannot go to the trouble of saying “thank you; good job.”

Now, if I were insecure, I would obsess about the shouted silence from those who invited and hosted me, then sent me on my way with a check and not a word since. I would lie awake at night wondering if I failed them in some way, if they were unhappy with what I did, if their silence speaks volumes about their negative feelings.

I would, but I don’t.

Where’s the point in that?

Do you suppose God in Heaven lies awake at night wondering if He has failed you and me in some way, since He never hears a word of thanks or appreciation from our direction?

We know the answer to that one, don’t we?

God does not need anything from us. He said, “If I were hungry, I would not ask you. The cattle on a thousand hills are mine” (Psalm 50:12,10).

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Some of the sharpest pastors I know read novels. They are sharper for having read those books.

And, some of the sharpest ones do not. They could be sharper if they would.

A pastor friend told me this week, “I just don’t care for them. I love to read spiritual books and articles, the kind that make me think and draw me closer to the Lord.”

I’m all for his reading uplifting books and articles. It’s just that I think he  needs to add an occasional novel to his reading diet. Not to replace anything he’s enjoying presently, but to supplement it.

By no means am I suggesting that he fritter away his time on the sex-oriented, profanity-saturated trash which is so available today.

A few minutes ago, I asked an interesting assortment of people  known as my Facebook friends to help me think of reasons pastors would benefit from reading the occasional novel. See below at the end of this piece for their insights..

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A New Orleans pastor wrote me a note on Facebook this morning. The recent trouble Hurricane Isaac inflicted upon our area reminded him of the days, weeks, and months in late 2005/early 2006 when we were recovering from Hurricane Katrina.

One thing in particular we did he says he is missing.

We convened the pastors each Wednesday morning from 9 to noon. This weekly meeting began while most of us were in evacuation and continued for over two years before we began to slack off as life started to return to normal.

I said to the pastor this morning, “We did a lot of things in those meetings—conveyed information, connected the needy with helpers, we worshiped and prayed, and perhaps best of all, we fellowshiped.”

That’s what we need after a major disaster: to meet with others experiencing the same trauma for understanding, affirmation, guidance, and assistance.

We need fellowship.

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Recently, when my pastor said in a sermon that living for Jesus Christ in this country is easy, someone challenged him.  The critic was adamant in insisting that we have it just as hard here as other believers throughout the world.

We ought to be ashamed if we believe that.

The July 12 issue of the Florida Baptist Witness tells of a missionary to Southeast Asia (country unnamed) who was teaching a number of evangelists from various countries in his part of the world. The missionary said, “They soak(ed) up the lesson on I Peter like it’s news from a long lost friend.”

At one point, the missionary/teacher asked, “How many of you have been persecuted for your faith?” He has taught this lesson before and knew to expect a number of responses.

Not a single hand was raised.

Thinking they might have misunderstood, the missionary said, “How many of you have suffered for preaching the gospel?”

Again, no hands were raised.

This had never happened before. The missionary knew these men and women lived in a SE Asian country where religious groups are required to register and get permission even to read their Bibles and pray. Why was he getting no response?

Finally, the missionary said, “How many of you have been imprisoned for sharing the Gospel?”

Every hand in the room went up.

Then, one by one, they began sharing their stories. It soon became apparent why they had not raised their hands: they did not consider imprisonment persecution.

One evangelist told of a pastor he knows who was tortured by authorities for preaching the Gospel. After being left outside overnight with no clothes on, still that brother was eager to return to share the gospel with his people. They were hungry to hear about Jesus, he said.

At one point, 14 of these evangelists had been arrested and thrown into prison. But this did not stop them. They continued talking about Jesus. One evangelist led many prisoners to Christ. He even conducted worship services in the prison yard. When the authorities discovered what was happening, they chained him in solitary confinement.

Another of the evangelists returned home to see his newborn son for the first time, but plans to continue his ministry in the area where he was arrested and imprisoned for a full year for preaching Christ.

The missionary said, “Now I (understood) why no one raised their hands the first two times I asked the question. The evangelists simply do not equate imprisonment with persecution or suffering. Sure, some were stoned, imprisoned, beaten, or evicted from their villages, but to them it’s the expected response for sharing the gospel.”

Toward the end of his session with the evangelists, the missionary heard their reports and added up more than 900 baptisms.

The Apostle Paul had a word for people who live such sold-out lives for Christ. “For this reason I also suffer these things, but I am not ashamed. For I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed unto Him against that day.” (II Timothy 1:12)

Sometimes when I hear someone tell of their battles with cancer–of the endless chemo treatments,  stem-cell implants, and bone marrow transplants, all the unbearable suffering that seems to know no end–I think back to my small bout with cancer in 2004-05, and keep my mouth shut. Mine was nothing compared to what they are enduring.

Throughout the world, our brothers and sisters are doing so much for Christ with so little. You and I have so much yet do so little.

Ashamed?