Category: Preaching (Page 14 of 25)

On The Church Directory

We were sitting together that afternoon on a third-or-fourth-hand couch in my office behind the fellowship hall at the Marble Falls church. Jim Gardner had just announced he was leaving to begin preaching at the Woodward Park congregation in Fresno. I had just taken the preaching position at Legacy. And we both had just received copies of our new churches’ pictorial directories. We were flipping through the pages together, checking out the pictures of the good brothers and sisters to whom we would soon be ministering. Among the pages and rows of young families and widow ladies and old men and babies, Quincy’s picture jumped out at me.

Now look at Quincy. Look at him. That’s a face that has a story. There’s some pain there. Something happened. And the evidence is right there. This man deals with things most people never endure. He suffers.

My very first thought upon seeing Quincy’s picture — and I’ll never forget it — was to wonder in what ways I would be able to minister to this man. How am I going to serve him? How am I going to comfort and encourage him? How is God going to use me to help this guy?

As most readers of this space know, Quincy, of course, wound up ministering to me. He served me. He comforted me and encouraged me. He helped me more than I can possibly put into words.

Quincy’s faithful trust in God strengthened my own faith. His selfless, sacrificial attitude matured my own outlook on congregational life and the world. His prayers delivered me straight to God’s throne for healing and forgiveness, mercy and grace. His phone calls lifted me up and kept me going strong. Quincy’s love for me sustained me in many ways. When I needed a minister, when I needed a faithful friend, when I needed affirmation, Quincy was my guy.

Quincy and I would talk all the time about Legacy Morning Prayers. We lamented the lack of congregational participation. We prayed together that God would bring more people to our prayer time, that God would fill the prayer room with our brothers and sisters so we would all be changed to become more like Christ. Why won’t people come to pray? We couldn’t understand it.

And then at the end of May, it happened. Teenagers!  High school seniors and college freshmen. Young people from our church and young people from the NRH community. Fifteen-year-old, 17-year-old, 20-year-old boys and girls. Kids with faithful Christian parents and kids who are spiritually on their own. They started showing up this summer. Four and five and sometimes six or seven at a time. Teenagers! Praying with Quincy. Talking with Quincy. Being formed and shaped by God through Quincy. Being changed by Quincy’s prayers. Being matured by God’s Word through Quincy’s reading.

Quincy and I had prayed and prayed that the prayer room would be full. But we never once thought God would bring us teenagers!

Every morning this summer Quincy and the teenagers prayed together for an hour. He ministered to them. He helped them. He encouraged them. He loved them. I would show up to work in the mornings and listen at the prayer room door as I put my Diet Dr Peppers for the day in the staff refrigerator. Quincy ministering to a room full of teenagers. More than I could ever possibly ask or imagine. God’s always doing weird and wonderful things like that.

For the past four weeks I’ve been thumbing through and praying over the pictures in my new Central directory. Well, it’s not really new; it’s four-years-old. I might be praying for and studying the names of people who died a long time ago or who don’t even belong to Central anymore. But my experience with Quincy has forever changed the ways I look at these pictures and names.

I still wonder about the ways God is going to use me to minister to this man in a wheelchair or to that single mom with four kids. I still pray that God will bless this widow lady and that guy with cancer. But, mostly, I wonder how these people are going to minister to me. How is God going to use this person to encourage me? How is our faithful Father going to use that lady to mature me in my faith? What’s this man in this picture going to do that’s going to change my life and make me a better disciple of Christ?

There are people in these 48 pages of pictures who are going to have an eternal impact on me. Some more than others. Yes, a few of them are going to make me crazy. But many more will become my greatest friends. I know I’m here to help them. But I’m just as certain our God is going to use these people to help me. And that gives me great confidence.

Peace,

Allan

Secretary Ministers

One of our shepherds at Legacy took me to lunch three weeks ago as sort of an informal exit interview. Once the sandwiches arrived at our table and the thanksgiving prayer had been offered, he got right down to business.

“Allan, if I don’t accomplish anything else today,” he began, “I need to talk to you about the ladies in the church office. They really love you. They are very loyal to you. They would do anything for you. They defend you, they protect you, they say wonderful things about you, they really enjoy working with you. Your relationship with them is uncommonly good. And it’s not like that at all churches. Sometimes the preacher and the secretaries don’t get along at all. There’s usually some kind of tension. Sometimes they don’t even like each other. But Jackie and Suzanne and Bonny all think you’re the best thing ever and they’re absolutely devastated that you’re leaving.”

“Now,” he continued, “that’s something we want to keep going with the next preacher. We want to keep that same dynamic between these ladies and the next minister here. So, tell me…

…what’s your secret?”

What’s my secret? I was a little surprised by the question. My secret?

There’s no secret.

I tried to explain that we had always openly and honestly shared our lives together in that office. We were completely transparent with one another. We knew one another’s strengths and offered constant support and encouragement. We knew one another’s weaknesses and practiced patience and understanding. We laughed and we cried together. We talked about our children, we went to each other’s family funerals, we played practical jokes on one another. We prayed together. We read God’s Word together. For over four years we worked together side by side, day after day, in a difficult environment. We depended on one another. We genuinely needed one another. There’s no secret. We really just grew to love one another.

But the elder persisted. He wanted more.

“What was your strategy, though? How did you make that happen? How do we make sure the next guy we bring in here is going to make it happen?”

I struggled to give him what he was looking for. What is it about honest respect and genuine trust and mutual encouragement and selfless sacrifice within a team that I could put into a nuts-and-bolts plan or formula? For some reason my explanations sounded abstract. He wanted practical. So I tried again.

I always treated the church secretaries as equals.

Always.

I recognized around the table at staff meetings, in the hallways, and in our offices that the church secretaries are Christian ministers, too. Absolutely. In fact, in many ways they are more on the front lines of congregational ministry than the preachers in the back offices and the elders in the board rooms. These are the ladies who answer the door, answer the phone, schedule the building, make the appointments, collect and compile all the information and communicate it to the church. They have the most daily contact with the members of our church. They have more opportunity to show God’s grace. They have more chances to extend God’s mercy and forgiveness, more times to share God’s eternal perspective on daily matters, more occasions to reach others with our Father’s great love. They are often the first point of contact with our church members and with people in our community who are hurting or grieving or doubting or depressed or seeking our Lord. Those ladies do more Christian ministry in a day than some of our “ordained” ministers do in a month! And I know that. I acknowledge that. And I treat them with the great respect that deserves. I value their input. I treasure their opinions. I depend on their evaluations and advice. I trust their judgment. I need them.

I told this shepherd that day that I really believe Jackie and Suzanne and Bonny and I would all four run through brick walls for each other. We would move heaven and earth to do anything for each other. And I think it’s because I always treated them as equals.

(And then I added that in a lot of churches there is tension between the ministers and the elders. Unfortunately, it seems to be unusual for elders and ministers to really get along, to really trust one another, to really love one another and be on the same page together. And if a board of elders really wanted that to happen, they might consider treating ministers the same way I treated those ladies in the office. As equals. Treat your ministers as equals. Show them respect. Value their input. Weigh seriously their opinions. Depend on their evaluations and advice. Trust their judgment. Whatever you do, don’t kick them out of your meetings. Don’t ever send the message to them that, when it comes time to discuss really important matters or make really big decisions, they don’t have much of anything to offer)

Suzanne, you showed me every day how to be compassionate. You treated everyone with dignity and respect. You constantly reminded me that, even when people are being rude on the phone or demanding in the office, our job is to show them the love of Christ. You modeled that perfectly. And I’ve never met anyone with a bigger heart for the weak and the marginalized. You inspire me.

Jackie, you always kept me grounded in the big-picture view of God’s Kingdom. You taught me great balance. You never allowed me to get too caught up in the specifics of temporary issues or too bogged down by temporary trials. You modeled for me a faithful trust in the sovereignty of our good and holy Father.

Bonny, you made me a better preacher. You equipped me by telling me what works and what doesn’t. You empowered me by your constant encouragement. You told me when I said or did something that helped you or changed your outlook. And you never held back when I said or did something that maybe I shouldn’t have. You didn’t let me get away with anything. And you challenged me to be everything God has called me to be. Because of you, the Gospel of Christ was proclaimed more clearly at Legacy.

Now, there’s a whole new set of ladies in my life who are “breaking me in.” Connie, Gail, Elaine, and Vickie. And I don’t know them yet. I don’t hardly know them at all. I don’t know their stories. I don’t know their strengths and weaknesses, their triumphs and trials. I don’t know what makes them tick. And I’m certain they’re wondering about me, too. I’m secretly terrified that Bonny, Jackie, and Suzanne might try to contact them in some way to give them some advice. Or warning.

But I expect us to become close friends. I expect us to grow to love one another. I expect God to work with us and through us together. I anticipate marvelous relationship. And why not? We’re all ministers.

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We were so blessed to take Tessa to lunch on Friday and eat watermelon with her house parents and housemates at High Plains Children’s Home. We were also privileged to meet Tessa’s pig, Wilbur. It’s part of her FFA project. For those of you who know Tessa, you’ll be thrilled to hear that she’s doing great. Her life has changed. It’s been turned completely around. Thank God. And thank Legacy.

Jack and Charlotte Chambers were here at Central yesterday. I also finally met Stephanie’s Aunt Suzanne.

I rejoice in the baptism of Marshall. And Hayleigh. Our God is still saving and rescuing. He is still robbing hell. What a joy to witness it up close!

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The girls started school today. Carley is a 6th grader at Bonham Middle School. She stepped out of the van this morning and right into a sea of what looked like a million middle schoolers. She just disappeared. Valerie is a lowly fish at Amarillo High, and Whitney is a Senior Sandie. Yeah, they’re Sandies. Amarillo High School is the home of the Golden Sandstorm. I’ve told the girls that you have to be pretty good to get away with a mascot like that. We’ll see beginning this Friday night when AHS takes on Midland in the football season opener.

Go, Sandies!

Allan

The Gifts of Preaching

I’m cleaning out my study at Legacy today. Boxing up books. Packing the commentaries and knick knacks. Pulling the pictures down from the walls and throwing away a bunch of stuff, too. It’s taking me longer —  a whole lot longer — than it should to pack up and clean out a 17′ x 11′ room. That’s because I keep coming across the gifts.

The framed autographed photo of Steve Martin taken from a scene in “The Jerk.” Todd D gave it to me a couple of weeks after I had referenced the scene in a sermon on the distractions of material possessions. Plus an original promotional booklet for the movie “It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World,” also presented to me a couple of weeks after I compared Ethel Merman’s character to Peninnah in 1 Samuel. Todd D is also the same guy who snail mails me an envelope full of random cartoons every couple of months. I’ve found several of them today. My favorite is the old lady behind the counter at a sidewalk kiosk proclaiming to passers-by, “…and I’m wearing a thong!” The caption says, “The Too-Much-Information Booth.”

A tiny little three-eyed alien from Toy Story sits on top of my tape dispenser, a gift from our Children’s Minister, Jennifer. She had used the little guys in a staff devo one morning to remind us that just as the toys are chosen by The Claw, we are chosen. We are chosen by God. We belong to him. We are his.

A roll of Life Savers with a note attached: Preacher Timer – Upon reaching pulpit, place one unit in mouth; when Life Saver disappears, so should the preacher! Howard C gave that to me a couple of years ago.

A bar of goat milk cheese given to me by Salvador Cariaga, our missionary to the Philippines. The Christians there are becoming economically self-sufficient by the grace of God as he works in and through all those goats. I joked from the pulpit one Sunday while Salvador was in town that I was glad our elders didn’t pay me with a goat. The next morning, I was greeted in my office by a live goat, courtesy of Jack’s Sunday morning Bible class!

There’s a big white posterboard on the door to my study that declares me “the best preacher ever.” It was made and colored and scotch taped there by Camryn and Brighton, two of the sweetest little girls at Legacy. It fell a couple of weeks ago. I taped it back up.

Here’s an electrical outlet spray painted gold hanging from a string of electrical wire and couplers. Keith R gave this to me after installing five ceiling fans in my house and discovering up close how un-handy I am with and around electricity.

The wooden carving of the old pioneer preacher was given to me by Steve P. Dana J gave me the beautiful crown of thorns that I used during our four week sermon series leading up to this past Easter. Joe A gave me a framed copy of our first family picture for the Legacy pictorial directory. Dawson B gave me the little miniature Homer from his Simpsons happy meal. Wayne S took and framed a picture of Whitney and Carley and me standing in a long line in the Academy parking lot at midnight to buy T-shirts celebrating the Rangers’ American League Championship victory over the hated Yankees. Paul Dennis just gave me this copy of Yancey’s Soul Survivor: How My Faith Survived the Church, figuring it might be good reading right about now. And the picture of Quincy and me at his naturalization ceremony sits to my left among photos of my kids.

Gifts. My office is filled with gifts. Every wall, every shelf, every corner contains a gift from somebody here at Legacy. And it takes me longer to pack this stuff because each gift is connected to a person. A story. A relationship.

Those are the real gifts.

It’s not the wood carving; it’s praying with Steve and Pat in their home while he endured multiple foot surgeries and amputations and prosthetics and rehab related to his diabetes, crying with Steve as he recounted the kindness shown to him by his brothers and sisters at Legacy who remodeled most of his home to accomodate his wheelchair.

It’s not the poster; it’s Camryn’s deep friendship with my youngest daughter and Brighton’s really loud comment to a crowd the Saturday night before my last sermon here: “Preach for two hours, Allan, and if anybody has a problem with it, they can come see me!” It’s my love for both of their families who have encouraged me and supported me and loved me unconditionally for every moment of my ministry here.

It’s not the bar of soap; it’s getting to know Salvador’s son and encouraging him in his studies and his Christian ministry; it’s being there for the funeral of Salvador’s father-in-law; it’s praying with him for the poor people in the Philippines and then being inspired by his life of selfless service.

It’s not the little green alien; it’s remembering that Jennifer always tells me — usually right before or after prayer together, sometimes through tears — church work and ministry is not supposed to be easy. If it were easy, it wouldn’t take faith.

It’s not the book; it’s being there at his house within an hour of Paul finding out his son had been killed in a car accident; it’s the huge bear hugs and his tears and his sensitive heart. And his great pain. His unspeakable pain.

It’s not the Homer toy; it’s knowing that I’ll be there to tell him how proud I am of him when Dawson puts on our Lord in baptism this next Sunday.

It’s not the pictures and candies and crowns and cartoons and books. It’s the lives. Those are the gifts that are handed to preachers every day. The gifts of people’s lives. They open them up to us. They give themselves to us. They pour themselves out in front of us. Every day they share themselves with us. They say things to us they would never say to anyone else. They confess sin to us. They dare to dream really big dreams with us. They make promises. They express concerns. They cry. They pray. In front of us. For us. They are vulnerable with us. They give and give and give to us. Nobody else gets gifts like these. And we get them every day!

What a blessing. What a burden. What a beautiful and amazing thing it is to receive these kinds of wonderful gifts.

That’s why it’s taking so long to pack up my study.

Peace,

Allan

Everybody a Preacher

Day of Pentecost. Acts 2. There’s this mob in the street demanding an explanation for what’s happening in the upper room with the noise and the tongues of fire and the different languages. And Peter starts preaching from a passage in Joel:

I will pour out my Spirit on all people.
Your sons and daughters will prophesy,
your young men will see visions,
your old men will dream dreams.
Even on my servants, both men and women,
I will pour out my Spirit in those days,
and they will prophesy.

~Acts 2:17-18 (from Joel 2:28-29)

Through most of our history with God, Holy Spirit empowered talk (preaching) has been limited to a few select prophets. But when Christ comes, when the day of the Messiah and the coming of the Kingdom of God arrives, God’s Holy Spirit will be poured out on everybody! Young and old, men and women, rich and poor, educated and not, people who’ve never stood up to speak before, people who’ve never even looked at a microphone before, all God’s people will speak up and speak out. Everyone will preach the truth. Everybody’s a preacher! We are living right now today in the age of this promised free speech.

That’s why Jesus’ people are always big talkers. Have you noticed? We’ll talk to anybody. We love to talk. And we won’t shut up. No matter what our neighbors say. No matter what the government says.

Jesus was a preacher. And he sends his disciples out to preach. Faith comes from what is heard. That’s why when we get together on Sundays we mostly talk and shout and sing and read and speak. The most difficult part of my Sunday morning is standing before the crowd at Legacy at 10:00 and trying to get everybody quiet. We love to talk. And we won’t shut up. About Jesus. Because we’re all preachers, filled with the Spirit of Christ, re-created to proclaim the Gospel of salvation in all its eternal glory.

One of my favorite parables of Jesus, the preacher, is about the sower who went forth to sow. What’s the Kingdom of God like? A farmer goes out and just starts slinging seed. Hey, it’s the Kingdom of God! And he’s just throwing seed everywhere. Wasting lots of good seed with a reckless abandon.

That sounds like a really lousy way to grow a crop of wheat. But Jesus says it’s the best way to spread the good news. May our God bless us as we refuse to shut up.

Peace,

Allan

Renew Them In Our Day

“Lord, I have heard of your fame;
I stand in awe of your deeds, O Lord.
Renew them in our day,
in our time make them known.” ~Habakkuk 3:2

I’m still learning how to pray. I read the psalms and I read the prayers of the prophets and I realize I have such a long way to go. In order to pray with the mind of Christ, I must pray the will of the Father. But during my moments of most honest reflection, I admit, I’m usually praying for the will of the preacher.

Habakkuk prays that God’s deeds, not his own deeds or desires, might be renewed. Usually, I’m sorry to say, I’m talking to God about some specific project or idea or initiative and asking him to renew my work. I’m cruising along preaching and ministering and administrating and doing what a good preacher in a good church is supposed to do and everything’s great. But as soon as somebody bumps the table, as soon as there’s a little mess, suddenly prayer becomes very, very important to me. Now I’m really alert to prayer and the deep need for prayer and my intense dependence on prayer.

And I beg God to renew my work. God, fix my preaching. Lord, help our Small Groups. God, would you please revive my Bible class? Lord, build my ministry back up. If I’m not careful, my interest is really on what I’m building and not really on what God may actually want. It’s humbling to admit, and a tough lesson to learn, that quite possibly God’s not nearly as interested in my little stacks of programs and sermons as I am.

God, renew your deeds. Revive your work.

Do a new work, Lord. Don’t just refurbish or clean up what I’m doing. God, create something brand new here, something I haven’t even thought about. Do something I would never dream of, Lord. For your purposes. To your eternal glory, God. May your will be done in my preaching, not mine. May your will be done at Legacy, not mine. Lord, may your will be done in our Small Groups, in our elders’ meetings, and in this community, just like it is in heaven.

Renew your deeds, God. Not mine.

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I’ve added a new link to the list there on the right. This is a blog I read regularly and have been meaning to include on my site for quite a while. I’ve just not taken the time.

John Mark Hicks’ blog, John Mark Hicks Ministries, is a wonderful source for Restoration and Church of Christ history and perspective. John Mark’s is a prophetic voice, speaking God’s Word into the culture and into our churches with spirit and truth. And, as regular readers to my blog know, I’m a huge fan of his research and writings on the Lord’s Supper, baptism, and our corporate worship assemblies. His trilogy of books on those three “sacraments” are among the best written on the topics in decades. “Come to the Table” is arguably the greatest work on communion ever produced by a C of C scholar. OK, I know. All that sounds a little over the top. Sorry. Hicks is good. You’ll like his blog.

Peace,

Allan

Truly, Truly

“You can never make everybody happy unless you’re doing things that are disingenuous.”

                                                                  ~C. J. Wilson

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