My First Pastorate

 

My first pastorate was Fellowship Baptist Church in Jemison.  I never will forget the first time I preached there.  I, as many new preachers do, was supply preaching.  Sammy Oaks, one of the most mature eighteen-year-old I have ever known, invited me to preach.  The church was without a pastor.  When asked to preach I did not realize that I was preaching a trial sermon that morning.

Arriving at the church, I noticed that it was a beautiful location underneath some giant oak trees.  There were concrete picnic tables under the trees and a small cemetery behind the church.

There were some unique features of the church.  It had a large bell tower to one side of the church.  Beside the tower was the front door of the church, which the members did not use.  The church was built in the 1880’s and belonged to a retired Methodist preacher.  It was very high off the ground on rock pillars for its foundation.  Facing the front of the church, members started building a basement to serve as an educational wing.  It had never been waterproofed and usually had water in the hole with it.  I found out later that the church lacked finances to finish the project.

Inside the church was odd.  I guess it was my familiarity with Baptist churches and not old Methodist churches.  Some of the pews that faced the pulpit faced the cemetery.  It is one thing to look at a not so handsome preacher and a sleeping and smile-less choir but looking at the graveyard through the back windows!  I guess it was a reminder that the little church was dying.

Another thing was there was only one classroom.  They did not use the front door because it went to this room, and they had folding chairs stacked behind it.  I wondered why they had a window unit hanging from the outside front wall until I entered the classroom.  Someone with creative skills, most folks call it ridging, made a metal duct that went from the air-conditioner, through the classroom, and into the back wall of the sanctuary where a piece of cardboard duct taped over the top of the outlet served as a regulator.

The sanctuary had white paneling that was dinghy.  Sometimes we give no thought of the future, especially when things are on sale.  The pews kept members awake by pinching the back of their legs.  Pews on each side of the sanctuary faced the pews that faced the cemetery.  One can imagine what kind of expressions were on the faces of those that looked at those who looked at the preacher, the choir, and the dead.

The oddest characteristic of the church was the congregation leaned to the left, not in doctrine or in politics, but due to the basement beside the church.  With every rain, the foundation of the church washed in the hole of the neglected basement.  Where the church had not finished the basement, months of neglect and periods of rain now did what the church should have done.  It was backfilling the hole at the expense of the church foundation and the church was slowly sliding in the hole.  I had visions of those on the left sinking into the earth as in the days of Moses.

Among other problems, the church was behind on its payments to the Methodist preacher, they could not buy propane gas until they paid their bill, and the power company threatened to turn off the electricity.

Sitting on the front pew pondering all these things before preaching that morning, my thoughts were I would sure hate to be the preacher at this church.  After the morning message, Sammy asked me if I would consider becoming their pastor.  I did the spiritual thing and told him that I would make it a matter of prayer.

During my quiet time, I prayed that God give me direction on the Fellowship decision.  I was studying the book of First John.  If you take time to read it, you find how I became pastor there.

God blessed my time there.  We paid all the bills, started a building fund, and bought a piano.  Did I mention that several keys did not work on the piano?  We dug a sewer line that allowed water in the basement to drain, backfilled the basement to stop the erosion, and had a reconciliation service with the church from which Fellowship split.

Fellowship started with the wrong foundation spiritually as demonstrated physically by the foundation of the church.  I wish I could say that the church is doing great, but it is not.  In fact, two pastors after me, a cultic group took over the church. 

It is so vital that churches have a firm foundation and know what we believe as Southern Baptists.

But he that heareth, and doeth not, is like a man that without a foundation built an house upon the earth; against which the stream did beat vehemently, and immediately it fell; and the ruin of that house was great. (Luke 6:49 KJV).

And I say also unto thee, That thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it (Matthew 16:18 KJV).

The Resurrection Lily and Flowers

 As birds gather their choirs of praise

You wait for the sun’s warm rays

Appearance of green and vanishing of winter gloom

The Lord decorates the earth with trees and flowers in bloom

 

Arrayed in white as Angels on Resurrection morn

From garden to Sanctuary, you now adorn

 

All of your beauty the Lord created for us to share

On Resurrection morning your fragrance fills the worship air

 

Symbolizing the purity of sacrificial love on the Cross

The beauty of the Resurrection, life gained, not loss

 

Gone are love ones now in Heaven for eternity reign

Our hope in the Cross, the Resurrection, and Heaven to gain

 

Lily you are but a flower, a reminder of our Lord’s Resurrection

Jesus is the Lily of the Valley, our risen Savior, God’s only son

 

                                                        )

 

 

 

 

The Past Reached For And Held the Future

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)