Hobo Supper

You Need to Move On

As a Director of Missions, I get invited to numerous events.  Attending events creates a bond between church laity and a director of mission.  The continuity of a director of missions and the churches he serves comes from the Director to Laity relationship.  Some think that it is the Pastor to DOM but pastors transition to other churches.  The laity was at the church before the pastor and will be there long after he is gone.

Sometimes churches become rooted in the local church being their church, not the bride of Christ.  Laity can get the attitude of “Our Four and No More.”  I fear this trend.  Churches that do not birth new members are destined to die.  The church will continue until the Lord returns.  I must imagine that some churches will continue to meet with their four even when the church is raptured.  The attitude of the church being a closed event prevails.

I experienced this by invitation to a “Hobo Supper” church event.  One of the churches I served had an annual Hobo Supper.  This hobo supper started an iron pot cooking with a little water and meat.  Everyone brings an item from the pantry to add to the pot making a stew.  It is delicious.  The first year I attended I won best costume just wearing my everyday works clothes.  After that I will dress like a poor hobo.

One year I decided to fool the church folks.  I got an old white dress shirt that yellowed with age, put  it on by buttoning it wrong, and ripped it by stretching it.  I took an old pair of pants and cut one leg shorter than the other and tied the pants around my waist with an old rope.  I wore two different tennis shoes as well as two different socks.  I got an old had that was frayed and a broken pair of sunglasses.

I wore a pair of realistic “bubba teeth”, put smut on my face, dirt under my fingernails, and dog poop on my shoes.  I found a discarded beer can and sprinkled the remaining contents on as perfume.  I hadn’t shaved for a few days.  I had gout and walked with a limp using the staff.

Since it was a hobo supper, I took a staff and tied two canned vegetables in a red bandana on the end.  I had my son drop me at the entrance of the supper.  To make it realistic, my son acted as though he had picked me up hitchhiking and told me that was as far as he could take me, and I told him thanks and that he was a fine young man.

As I stood on the shoulder of a US Highway, drivers would move to the other side of the road to avoid me.  I stuck out my thumb to see if I could get someone to stop.  I was unsuccessful.  Several women waved and smiled as they turned to enter the hobo supper which was down a drive behind some woods.

Finally, a deacon and his wife from the church stopped as they entered the drive.  He lowered the window of the passenger side just enough to talk.  He asked me what I wanted.  I told him that I had been in town looking for food when a young man in a red jeep told me of a hobo supper.  He said I did not look to hungry.  I am a big man.  I told him not to look at my appearance and that just because I had a large stomach did not mean that I was not hungry.  He told me that I needed to move on down the road and I was not invited to the hobo supper.  He rolled up his window and continued down the drive to the supper.  Ironically, I exercised with this deacon at the local gym every morning.

Several passersby told the host that there was a bum at the driveway entrance.  She told them that it was probably me having fun.  The deacon told her that it was not me.

Another man I knew stopped and verbatim did as the deacon did.  He was not as hospitable as the deacon and told me there was no hobo supper.  I told him that I knew I was close and that I could smell the smoke and the stew cooking.  He wanted to know how I learned of the supper.  I told him a fine Christian man told me and even brought me to where someone could direct me.  He rudely said I needed to move on down the road.

After a short I while I hobbled down to the gathering.  When the host saw me, she said that is not Bobby Hopper.  Everyone shunned me.  I told them that they needed to remember the Scripture how men and women entertained Angels unaware.  I did jokingly but was serious about how they treated a stranger.

I took out my bubba teeth and removed my hat and sunglasses to reveal who I was.  They were shocked and said that if they knew it was me they would picked me up, especially my deacon friend.  I told him that it should not matter and that as a deacon he should have acted differently.

This is one of the reasons for starting God’s Front Porch.  Many of us do not feel welcome when attending church.  It may be the way we dress or smell.  It may be that we suffer from divorce or spousal abandonment.  We may have a problem with addiction, be homeless, mentally, or physically challenged, or jobless.

I know from conversations with believers that many are disgruntled with church but not with God.  Two or three of my former church members and friends have told me that one more episode at church and they will stay home, help the needy, and worship the Lord there.

The church that does not evangelize dies.  I recall that the Scriptures in the Holy Bible reveal that the church had the concept of our four and no more with all its rules and regulations and people who needed God were ignored and that is why Jesus came to save.

Fifty Year Anniversary

“THEY SAID IT WOULDN’T LAST” 

They said it wouldn’t last, but didn’t know our love.

They said it wouldn’t last, but they didn’t know God’s plan from above. 

God worked in a wonderful way bringing us together through a friend.

He created our love that would be special and without end. 

They said it wouldn’t last, our friends and kin of fifty years ago.

Today they gather in His house to celebrate what you and I know. 

A bond started On that day when our eyes first met.

It is a love story that started and continues yet. 

Ten days together was so short but our love grew and grew.

Separated while you serving the red, white, and blue. 

Could our love last for an acquaintance so brief?

Would it be short and the memory be one of grief? 

It seemed as a flash from heaven as a falling star burning so fast.

We were separated and our love seemed to others not to last. 

It was a precious moment we spent in late July.

Our separation seemed like an eternity as August crept by. 

We longed for each other until the second of September.

It became our wedding day, what a day to remember. 

Many special moments of love have continued since those days.

Three handsome boys God gave to us to raise. 

A family and home we had filled with commitment and love.

Our blessings could not have happened without God above. 

Today our lives are filled with grandchildren, great-grandchildren, friends, and other kin.

To thank you for celebrating with us, there’s no place to begin.

They said it wouldn’t last our love at first sight.

Love lasts forever when it done right. 

Marriage takes commitment and love with help from the Divine.

That’s something everyone must remember when we ask “will you be mine?” 

They said it wouldn’t last, but the years have flown by.

Fifty precious years that started on a lovely day in late July.

For: Aubrey and Ruth Randall on their fiftieth wedding anniversary on September 2, 2001

The Ponderosa: A Second Grade Adventure

The Ponderosa

There was a place not too far from where I grew up that was called the Ponderosa.  If you remember, the Ponderosa was the home of Ben, Adam, Hoss, and Little Joe Cartwright on the hit western program Bonanza.  The Ponderosa near our home was a two-room cotton shack. 

The family was not the well-to-do Cartwrights, but an older single woman named Doll and her grown son Roby.  Roby was what we called up home, not right.  He was mentally retarded, or to be politically correct, he had special needs or what is termed developmental disabilities.  Doll and Roby walked everywhere they went.  Roby would walk pass the house carrying a lid from a syrup bucket.  He pretended that it was a steering wheel.  As he drove (that is walked with the lid) he would pretend to honk the horn and then wave at us.  We knew better than to make fun of Roby or any other person with special needs.  Daddy would tear us up.  If you wanted a whupping from daddy, just make fun of someone with special needs.  In fact, daddy taught us to pay special attention to those who were mentally challenged and go out of our way to help them.  I have taught my children to do the same. 

If you want to get us charged up, you just mistreat someone who has special needs.

Roby was pretty ingenious.  I know you might find this hard to believe, but Roby and Doll had a television set at the Ponderosa.  It was something to behold seeing an antenna protruding from the roof of the shack.  The antenna was unique.  It was the spokes of a bicycle wheel.  Spokes for an antenna and a syrup can lid for a steering wheel was very creative.

As far as I know, Doll and Roby did not get government assistance, but they did have neighbors who helped them.  People kept a check on them, but they were very independent.  They did not have running water, which meant that they did not have indoor plumbing.

Doll’s brother, Allen, drove the school bus.  I remember on one occasion that Mr. Allen did not have to pick up a couple of boys who lived way down in the boonies.  I was the first one to catch the bus, then the boonie brothers.  Rather than picking up others students early, Mr. Allen decided to stop and spend the extra ten minutes at the Ponderosa. 

It was cold that morning.  Ice was spewed up everywhere.  Mr. Allen and I got off the bus and went to Doll’s kitchen.  It was the first time that I had actually been inside the Ponderosa.  Doll was fixin’ breakfast for Roby and her on an old wood burning stove.  This stove provided heat for the shack also.  She offered Mr. Allen and me some coffee, eggs, and biscuits.  I was too scared to drink her coffee and eat breakfast.  I had heard Grandmoe Chapman talk of how unclean Doll and Roby were.  I must admit that Doll would not have made a good story for an issue of the Good House Keeping magazine.

I think back on that morning and think how small the Ponderosa was.  I have often wondered what kind of trouble Mr. Allen would be in today if he took a student in for breakfast at a place like the Ponderosa.

Doll and Roby moved up in our community when they bought an old raggedy run-down trailer and just an equally run-down old 1951 Plymouth jalopy.  At least by then, Roby had a real steering wheel and a real horn to blow as they crept by the house going to the store.  I do not think Doll had a driver’s license, so she drove really slow. 

I wondered what they did with all the spare time and modern conveniences they had.  Doll and Roby acted a little more sophisticated with their new house and automobile.  From my own personal experience, I know how more sophisticated one feels when they are able to take a real bath and go to a real bathroom. Doll and Roby made their trailer a little more reminiscent of the Ponderosa when they raised the bicycle-spoked antenna beside the trailer.

Come to think of it, I have images of Doll and Roby when I read of Elijah, a widow, and her son.

So he (Elijah) arose and went to Zarephath. And when he came to the gate of the city, behold, the widow woman was there gathering of sticks: and he called to her, and said, Fetch me, I pray thee, a little water in a vessel, that I may drink. (I Kings 17:10 KJV).

Queen of Sheba

IF YOU ARE A COLLEGE GRADUATE, I’M THE QUEEN OF SHEBA

Several times in the last few days, I ran across the name Sheba. One of the occurrences was on the History Channel. A program on the Ark of the Covenant told how King Solomon and Sheba were married and had a son. It told that Solomon gave his son the Ark of the Covenant and that it is in Ethiopia today. There is a Hebrew word for that: baloney!

Actually, I thought Indiana Jones found it in the movie Raiders of the Lost Ark, and it is filed deep in the archives of the Smithsonian Institute in Washington or in the secrecy of Area 51 in New Mexico. Who knows?

I did have a conversation with the Queen of Sheba in New Orleans. No, I am not fibbing. Here is what happened.

One of the requirements for getting a Master of Divinity degree from New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary (NOBTS) as I attended its extension in Birmingham was that I had to spend thirteen weeks on the NOBTS campus within the four-year time frame of the program. I accomplished this by having earned four weeks of vacation a year from the cement plant. I spent my vacations in New Orleans in class, taking tests. One week was equivalent to a full term.

One of the breaks from this rigorous schedule was a trip to a steak and seafood restaurant, named Jack Dempsey’s. If you go to New Orleans, be sure to go, and order the steak and red fish platter for two. It is wonderful, and it is more than two can eat.

It was during a trip to Jack Dempsey’s that I met the Queen of Sheba. She was from a land far from Alabama, called Georgia. She attended the Marietta extension of NOBTS in Georgia, and she had been invited by some of the other female students who tagged along with several of us who were preachers. New Orleans is not a very safe place for females at night, so being the Southern gentlemen we were, we invited the ladies to tag along.

Sitting around a large table, we enjoyed the food and each other's company. It was exciting to meet new people, share our experiences, and learn of other places and traditions. The Queen appeared older than most of us. She dressed and acted sophisticated, maybe a tad snobbish. I was cutting up and having a good time, when she asked me, “How did you get into this program?”

Being simpleminded, I told her that I had registered. She then said, “I thought you had to have a college degree to register.” I responded by telling her that I had a college degree from the University of Montevallo.

She said, “If you have a college degree, I am the Queen of Sheba.”

My preacher friends and the other ladies (who wanted to be preachers, ministers of education, and counselors) waited for my response. I had two cards, small certificates, in my wallet, from the Phi Alpha Theta and the Sigma Tau Delta. Now, I know that is Greek. The Phi Alpha Theta is from the History Honor Society for having an A average. The Sigma Tau Delta is from the English Honor Society, one of the top five in the nation, for having an A average in English.

I took the cards from my wallet, gave them to her, and said, “Here, read this, Queen of Sheba.”

It was a precious moment that I cherish. My friends around the table erupted in laughter. The Queen of Sheba was speechless. She gathered her composure and asked, “Why don’t you talk like you have an education?”

I said, “I ain’t got to. My professor of public speaking told me that once a speaker establishes his or her credibility, he or she can speak as they want, as long as they communicate. Ma’am, I pastor a small rural church in Bibb County, Alabama. The people I serve are good old country people. If I talk prim and proper, I cannot communicate with them. I know when to act educated and when to be me. I am country, proud of it, and you will have to accept me for who I am.”

And when the queen of Sheba heard of the fame of Solomon concerning the name of the Lord, she came to prove him with hard questions … And she said to the king, It was a true report that I heard in mine own land of thy acts and of thy wisdom. Howbeit I believed not the words, until I came, and mine eyes had seen it: and, behold, the half was not told me: thy wisdom and prosperity exceedeth the fame which I heard (I Kings 10:1, 6-7 KJV)

I have often wondered what she said when she went back to Georgia.

Have you ever met a Queen of Sheba?

How do you respond when someone questions your motives or actions?

What impresses you about people?

Prayer: Father, thank You for all the people that have had the privilege of sharing Your wonderful work in me. The places You allowed me to visit and the education You have given me is far greater than that of any school, university, or seminary. Having opportunities to share experiences and learn of other places is fascinating.

Spring Break

Since it is Spring Break, many will be headed to exotic destinations.  A majority of High school and college students will head to the beach.  The beach is attractive, but I do not care for it.  I do meet friends each year at Gulf Shores, Alabama for Christmas.  On one occasion, I observed “Snow Birds” enjoying the beach and I was inspired to write the following poem.

FLEEING THE TEMPTER

A seagull chases a killdee* up and down, round and round.

As long as the killdee flees, the seagull cannot catch it.

So, in its illusiveness they race just inches above the crashing and roaring waves.

Children play in the sand, some tiptoe to the edge of the sea’s invitation to dive into its threshold.  In innocence, they laugh as incoming waves chase them away from the sea.

Guardians along the shore keep watch over the naïve younglings.

Seagulls stand guard and await the seas invitation to dine upon its continual supply of refuse, trash, and skeletons of creatures fallen in the sea. 

The temptation is too great for them and they feast. 

Unnoticed, people walk by the seagulls that focus on the sea’s roar calling to dine.

Some walk along the waters edge slowly seduced by the hypnotic voice of the deep.

Quickly escaping the tempter’s snare, they flee the cold chill of the rushing waves.

Briskly they saunter along the shore with no destination in mind.

Leaving their footprints upon the sands of time, troubled waves wash them quickly away.  Slowly they fade way leaving no evidence that have resisted the seas continual seduction.

The older generation sits and reflects upon the repeated temptation of the sea as it vacillates.

It reminds them of life’s continual restlessness that will continue long after they are gone. 

They reminisce of childhood sand castles that vanished long ago with the shifting sand. 

They think of romantic yesterdays as they watch two lovers embrace as the waves crash to shore.  They think of past passions as the sun is seduced and slowly enters into the sea. 

In the seduction, the sun loses its brilliant glow and blushes as it kisses the sea.

Only moments before, the sun’s flame had made the sky crystal clear, pure, and virgin blue.

It sparkled like a diamond in the cold winter air penetrating the air with a warm embrace. 

The sand that glistened as a bride dressed in white meeting her groom, now besmirched.

Suddenly, the seagull stops his pursuit of flirting killdee.

Temptation to dine overcomes the seagull as it dives into the sea for its prey.

Resist the devil, and he will flee from you (James 4:7b KJV).

*Killdee is a small bird that runs along the beach.