"Like Watching Anna and Baby Jesus"

One night at prayer meeting I watched as an elderly church member reached for a newborn baby.  The baby’s mother slowly and tenderly handed the newborn to the woman.  In that single moment I thought, God what are you teaching me? The oldest member of church was holding the newest addition to the church family and the profundity of it has intrigued me since that moment. 

An elderly woman holding a baby boy does not sound profound, but the significance of the moment is.  Ninety plus years of wisdom was holding innocence.  The experience of that woman who witnessed many innovations caressed an immature babe who would see advancements that the woman could never imagine.  A mind full of memories was staring at one who would not remember it.  One dear woman nearing the end of her journey was blessing a little boy just beginning his.  One with a lifetime of decisions gazed into the eyes of one who could not even focus into his beholder’s eyes.

I pondered the love that Miss Martha gave to little Mac that night.  It was a special flash to see how wonderful God is, how He speaks in simple, yet very philosophical ways.  Was Miss Martha passing the Christian baton to Mac?  Was she praying for Mac’s health, his journey in life, or his salvation?  How many newborns had she held and blessed in her lifetime?  Did she ponder the thoughts that Nicodemus mulled over when Jesus said, “Marvel not that I said unto thee, ye must be born again?” (John 3:7)  She had been born again many years before and now walked physically feeble toward the end of one journey, yet spiritually ran boldly toward the beginning of eternity.

Was Martha rejoicing over the Apostle Paul’s saying, “Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new” as she held a new baby? (2 Corinthians 5:17)

I do not know Martha’s thoughts or Mac’s mother’s feelings, but I know I felt a sense of awe when God’s saint held a newborn in the House of the Lord.  I felt as though I saw Anna when she saw baby Jesus.  “And there was one Anna, a prophetess, the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Aser: she was of a great age . . . And she coming in that instant gave thanks likewise unto the Lord, and spake of him to all them that looked for redemption in Jerusalem.” (Luke 2:36a, 38)

"Brother Calvin, a Hero of Mine"

Who is your favorite pastor?  I get that question from time to time.  I have had the privilege of flying with Dr. Adrian Rogers, sharing a dinner with Dr. James Draper, studying under Dr. Timothy George, Dr. Calvin Miller, Dr. Louis Drummond, and Dr. Robert Smith.  I have had many conversations with Dr. Chuck Kelly and Dr. Steve Gains.

I had the honor of spending time with Dr. Johnny Hunt, Dr. Ted Traylor, Dr. Bobby Welch, and Dr. Rick Warren.  I stayed in the same Atlanta hotel with Dr. Jerry Falwell.  He had too many bodyguards to approach, but we did exchange pleasantries.

I spent a wonderful moment under a canopy, in the rain, in Salt Lake City with Dr. Stephen Olford.  We talked as old friends would talk.  He was even more intriguing in person than on television or radio.  I loved his South African accent.

I had a memorable conversation with Dr. Herschel Hobbs at Alabama Baptists retreat for senior adults at Shocco Springs a couple of months before his death.  He had lived in Chilton County as a boy.  We had some mutual friends.

I thank God for Dr. Billy Graham.  I love to hear Dr. Chuck Swindoll preach and read his, Dr. Calvin Miller, Dr. Warren Wiersbe, and Dr. Max Lucado’s books.  When I wrote this article, I was reading a yearly devotion by Dr. Charles Stanley each morning.  Sounds like I am bragging does it not.  If you are a Southern Baptist, all these men are giants in ministry, but one of my favorite preachers is not well known.  He never pastored a large church and never had a formal education degree, but he did take some extension classes.  His name is Calvin Crocker.

Calvin, and his wife Ida Mae, are special to me.  He pastored my home church.  He grew up with my dad.  He was my first pastor.  He is one of the most humble and loving people that I have ever known.  I loved to hear him preach.  He was “ole timey” preaching in quick, short, spurts, and grasping for air.

He visited our home on several occasions.  He had a passion for lost souls and he knew my dad was lost and that mama, my brothers, sister, and I were not faithful.  In the last days of my Grandpaw Chapman’s life, Brother Calvin won him to the Lord. Brother Calvin preached Grandpaw’s funeral.

One time daddy and I were in the pea patch working on an old Farmall Cub tractor.  Brother Calving drove up in his old four-door 1957 Chevy.  Daddy did not like preachers.  Daddy said, “Watch this.”  I will never forget what he did.  It is one of those defining moments in my life.

Daddy placed his right hand in the grease and dust that collects on the side of a tractor engine.  Brother Calvin had on a white shirt and tie.  Remember, this is back with preachers never wore a golf shirt.  Instead of playing golf, they were praying to God and paying visits to lost daddies who were trying to impress young sons to be mean and disrespectful to God’s man.  It was too high of a calling for Brother Calvin to wear a golf shirt. 

Brother Calvin stretched forth his right hand to shake daddy’s hand.  Daddy rubbed that grease all into Brother Calvin’s hand.  Brother Calvin never blinked an eye.  He quietly took out his handkerchief and wiped the grease from his hand.  He told daddy how much he loved him, how much he wanted daddy to be saved, and how he did not him to spend an eternity in hell.

I was ashamed of what daddy did, but I learned that day both sides of the spiritual war in which we live.  I realized how a preacher should love and a Christian should respond.  You know for some reason Brother Calvin’s sermons took on a new revelation for me.  Brother Cocker accepted the call to another church, but he never stopped praying and talking with daddy.

Brother Calvin rejoiced when daddy accepted Christ.  Brother Crocker visited daddy and when daddy tried to apologize for all the things he had done, Brother Crocker just told daddy how proud he was of daddy’s salvation.

Daddy developed cancer and Brother Crocker would visit him.  When daddy died, Brother Calvin preached his funeral.  He shared how much he respected daddy and preached God’s Word. 

I saw Brother Calvin and Ms. Ida Mae at the 2006 Alabama Baptist State Convention in Birmingham.  I told them how much I love them and appreciate them.  They have been close friends for many years.

I just wanted to say how much I love and appreciate preachers.  You do the same.

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, to preach the acceptable year of the Lord.” (Luke 4:19 KJV)

“And how shall they preach, except they be sent? As it is written, how beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings of good things.” (Roman 10:13 KJV)

Who is your favorite preacher and tell why he is?

Have you ever treated a man of God with disrespect?  What did you do?

Take time to write a note to you favorite preacher or your pastor.  What would you say?

Prayer: Father, thank you for placing Brother Calvin in my life.  It was by divine appointment that he has been a mentor to me.  He taught me so much about humility and Christian response when sharing the Gospel.  Thank you for the opportunity to be one of his colleagues and co-laborers in the ministry.

"Sin Too Great?"

J M’s eldest son asked, “Dad, why don’t you give your heart and life to Christ?”  J M answered, “Son you don’t know what all I have done.”

J M had an intriguing past.  As a five year-old he, along with eight siblings, felt the impact The Great Depression.   Six years later, he witnessed his dad’s suicide.   At eighteen, he left for WWII.

While serving in North Africa and Italy, he had a machine gun and a grenade wound.  He was left for dead in a foxhole, taken prisoner, eventually escaping, and missing in action for a short time.  J M’s mom received word that he had been killed in action.  She responded, “No, he is not because I am praying for him.”  Yes, J M had a praying mother.  Her last plea before her death was that all her children be saved.

Somewhere in J M’s past, he learned his sins were so bad that he could not be saved.  He attended church on Christmas, Easter, and funerals without any persuasion, but had to be begged on other occasions.  He wanted his children to be Christians, but he knew there was no hope for him.  J M always made sure that someone offered the blessing before a meal.  J M acknowledged that God was in control, but could not accept the fact that God could forgive him.

His eldest son could not bear the thought of eternal separation from his dad.  He would say, “Dad, if you ask God to forgive you, Psalm 103:12 says, ‘As far as the east is from the west, so far hath he removed our transgressions from us.’”

J M was confident that his sin was too great.  He understood Romans 3:23, for all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God, but did not understand Ephesians 3:20, now unto him (Jesus) that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us.  The Holy Spirit was working in J M.

Finally, J M could not resist the prayers and pleas of those who loved him.  At fifty-eight, J M asked Jesus to forgive him.  Dying two years later, J M had lived an abundant life as promised in John 10:10b, I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.

"Dog Days and Old Testament Diease"

Sunday afternoon I spotted an animal on the side of the road.  I had a few moments to kill, so I decided I would venture into uncharted area of the southwest corner of Marengo County Alabama.  After a few miles of beautiful scenery and no houses, I saw this creature trying to hide on the right-of-way of the county road.  When I got close enough to see the animal, it was a mangy dog.  The dog looked as though, “I have the mange, do not look at me, I’m unclean.”

As a kid, I saw several dogs that had the mange.  When we had one, daddy usually poured burnt motor oil on it.  Sometimes it cured it, but most times it did not.  You might ask why we didn’t take them to the vet.  Well, daddy could not afford to take us to the doctor little on take a mangy dog.

My only experience with a mangy dog was with a Dalmatian named Pierce.  Pierce was officially Midnight Caller Pierce according his registration papers.  My kids acquired Pierce from a family that lived in the town of Jemison.  They gave us Pierce because they did not want him to stay penned.

Pierce could not stand to be in a pen.  His owners had to keep Pierce on a lease.  He developed a fungus in his throat from choking himself in an effort to escape.  Since we lived in the country, we turned Pierce loose and gave him free range.  It was not long that Pierce’s throat healed.

Pierce was a beautiful dog.  As with the whole Hopper family, Pierce gained weight.  He had a shiny coat and a big chest.  He loved the kids and was very playful.  The only bad habit he had was that he would chase cows.  He did not hurt them.  He liked to torture them with his barking and nipping at their heels.

One day I noticed that Pierce’s coat looked strange.  I realized that he had the mange.  It did not take long before he looked horrible.  I decided to talk with some friends who were coon hunters

I finally ran into “Buck” who was an avid coon hunter and had owned several expensive coon dogs.  When I told him about Pierce, Buck said that he had several dogs with the mange and that his home remedy would cure it.  When he told me the remedy, it almost sounded like something out of Biblical times.

He said that I needed to buy a pound of sulfur, get a gallon of cooking oil used to fry fish, and find a piece of rope.  Buck said tie Pierce to a light or electrical pole and make a paste using the sulfur and fishy smelling and tasting cooking oil.  He said coat Pierce all over with the paste.  He said be sure not to tie him close to anything where he could rub off the paste.  Pierce was to eat the sulfur.

I was curious about the procedure because it seemed odd.  I asked Buck why.  Buck told me that fleas caused the mange and that the fungus and fever they created was on the inside of Pierce.  The sulfur would kill the fungus.  The fish flavored cooking oil gave the sulfur a taste that Pierce would lick.  It sounded strange, but I tried it anyway.  Pierce looked funny with his yellow paste coat.  After a couple of days, I could see improvement to Pierce’s coat.  In no time, Pierce had a healthy shiny coat.

After seeing the mangy dog in the Nicholsville-Putnam area, I thought about the folks in the Old Testament who were covered with something like the mange, called scall, or what is known as scabies.  Those folks would see the priest who would give the “Buck like” instructions for a remedy.

The book of Leviticus describes scabies-like symptoms, which sounds like the mange.  Paintings from ancient Egypt also depict the scabies mite. Aristotle (384 to 322 B.C.) also spoke of scabies.

Scabies are tiny eight-legged mites that burrow in the skin of their hosts. The mites live for 24 to 36 hours spreading through skin-to-skin contact and deposit eggs in your skin.

In recent years, there has been an increase in scabies and bedbugs.  One statistic said 93% of households have bedbugs.  The cure was isolation in Biblical times.

If a man or woman have a plague upon the head or the beard; Then the priest shall see the plague: and, behold, if it be in sight deeper than the skin; and there be in it a yellow thin hair; then the priest shall pronounce him unclean: it is a dry scall, even a leprosy upon the head or beard. And if the priest look on the plague of the scall, and, behold, it be not in sight deeper than the skin, and that there is no black hair in it; then the priest shall shut up him that hath the plague of the scall seven days: And in the seventh day the priest shall look on the plague: and, behold, if the scall spread not, and there be in it no yellow hair, and the scall be not in sight deeper than the skin; he shall be shaven, but the scall shall he not shave; and the priest shall shut up him that hath the scall seven days more: And in the seventh day the priest shall look on the scall: and, behold, if the scall be not spread in the skin, nor be in sight deeper than the skin; then the priest shall pronounce him clean: and he shall wash his clothes, and be clean. But if the scall spread much in the skin after his cleansing; then the priest shall look on him: and, behold, if the scall be spread in the skin, the priest shall not seek for yellow hair; he is unclean. But if the scall be in his sight at a stay, and that there is black hair grown up therein; the scall is healed, he is clean: and the priest shall pronounce him clean (Leviticus 13:29-37 KJV).