Brother Arch

I was watching a car show the other night.  These shows do what I would love to do, rebuilding old jalopies.  My love for building cars started when I was in the fifth grade.  I got a model car kit from a classmate for Christmas.  Over the years, I had a pretty good collection that I lost when our home burned.  In that collection I had a ’55 Chevy Nomad, a ’50 Ford, a ’57 Chevy, a ’40 Willis, two ’32 Fords, the Batmobile, ’53 Ford pickup, and a few others.  Some of these date back to my teens.  I built them until the government regulations forced glue makes to change the formula and ruining its sticking power.

My dream car is a ’32 Ford Vicky, yellow convertible or five-window, 350 Chevy engine, saddle colored leather interior, and Crager junkyard mag wheels.  Trouble is, they are out there, but beyond a Director of Missions means.

These car-rebuilding programs have the mission of saving old cars one at a time.  The closest I have come to rebuilding an old vehicle is when Aaron and I rebuilt my ’77 GMC pickup, and I understood the statement, “They don’t build them like that anymore” a little better.  It is an era of American history that is fleeting away.   A friend of mine said that it makes him sick to watch classic cars headed to the scrap metal place.

My ’77 GMC is actually a 2009-13 pickup.  It looks old, but it has experienced a transformation.  No, it is not a Johnny Cash Cadillac.  It is a completely restored truck.  It is a work of love and labor.  I will always cherish the time that Aaron and I, father and son, spend together transforming a ragged, rusty, multicolored hunk of junk into what most call a “sweet ride” or a “clean” classic.

Transformed classics make up the body of the church.  Men, women, boys, and girls that experience the transforming power of God are new creations.  The power that raised Jesus from the dead is the power that transforms all those who trust Jesus as Lord and Savior.

As I thought about restored vehicles and changed lives, I cannot help but to think about Brother Arch Crumpton.  He was a classic when speaking of a man of God.  He was an old classic that you don’t see anymore, a one of a kind.  Brother Arch was a giant pillar in my home church.  Brother Arch, two other deacons, and the pastor were the only men in my home church when I was boy.

I heard stories how Brother Arch would walk four miles to church on Sunday morning to start a fire in the old pot-bellied stove, then walk back home, hitch the mule team to the wagon, and then bring the family to church.

Brother Arch always sat on the second pew on the preachers left.  He wore a dark blue suit, white shirt, a tie, and a fedora every Sunday.  He could pray some of the sweetest prayers.  I never heard anyone say a bad word about Brother Arch.

One of the most interesting stores about him was when he was a young man in his twenties.  I remember as a kid thinking that Brother Arch was ancient, being well into his seventies when I was a teenager.  He was tall and frail, but always sported a smile.  In his twenties, which would have been in the 1920’s, he had an appendix attack.  By the time the doctor arrived, he had gangrene and the doctor said there was little or no hope.

The doctor did something that most would think repulsive.  He opened Brother Arch, took out his intestines, and washed them in warm soapy water.  Once they were clean, the doctor repacked them.  I remember that Brother Arch always had a flat stomach.

Somewhere along that time, Brother Arch accepted the Lord as his Savior and the Lord removed the gangrene of sin from Brother Arch.  He was transformed and became a model for the men in our church and our community.

One of my fondest memories of Brother Arch happened one Sunday afternoon at my Aunt Edna’s.  My cousins and I were playing football in the front yard.  Brother Arch and his wife, Mrs. Blonnie, shuffled their way toward the house.  They walked along our goal line, which was the sidewalk to the house halting the game for a few moments.  Suddenly, Brother Arch called for the football.  One of my cousins tossed it to him and Brother Arch kicked the football.  He laughed and told us to have fun.  We all had a little more respect for him seeing that old man could kick a football.  Brother Arch will never know how much of an impact he had on my early Christian walk.  He has always been an inspiration and an example of what a Christian should be.  He was a Christian Classic.  Our churches would much better with more men like Brother Arch.

And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into His likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit (Second Corinthians 3:18 NIV).

 

Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new (Second Corinthians 5:17 KJV).

 

Positive Reinforcement from a Negative Action

Do you have a hard time letting things go?  I do.  I have an old sports jacket in the closet that I kept thinking that I would wear when I would lose weight.  It has been in there so long that it is out of style.  In that same closet are nice winter jackets and a couple of dress suits that are just a little too snug, but I hate to give them away because I like them and hate to get new ones that I might not like.

My clothes closet is full of shirts, pants, and other garments that need to go to Good Will.  I gave most of my old VBS shirts away not too long ago.  There was no way I was going to wear those 3X regular t-shirts.  They are not long enough or big enough after a few washes.  There are a few dress shirts that I like, but they are too small.  Wow, I sound like a broken record.

Then there is my work shed.  I have collected so much junk I cannot get in it.  I decided that I would throw out some things that I saved, but have not used in months, heck years.  As I readied each of them for the trashcan, I had mixed emotions, got sentimental.  My thought is that if I throw it in the garbage today, I will need it next week.  That has happened plenty of times in the past.

I have a system of collecting things, but honestly is there a need for a 1986 am/fm Citation car radio.  I keep thinking that someone might need one.  There is the old 8-track player beside a couple of more radios and there are all kinds of speakers.

I did break down the other day and threw away some old spark plugs, radiator and heater hoses, a couple of old belts, and vacuum lines.  I thought that was a sign of improvement.

I really want to have a big cleaning every time I try to locate something I have filed away and cannot remember which file I placed it.  I spend precious minutes looking in my converted fish tackle box for nuts, bolts, screws, and washers that I could run to Ace hardware and buy.

People will challenge me to throw stuff away.  I say I would but I might need it.  Problem is that happened way too much.  I am constantly repairing things with my collected resources.  If not for that, I would do as many corporations have done in recent years and that is clear out my inventory.  If I did that I would not need all those converted tackle boxes, converted toolboxes, nor all the storage shelves.

Speaking of shelves, I brought  home some wire shelves that my sister-in-law was throwing away when she sold her home.  Somewhere in the shuffle, the mounting brackets disappeared.  The wire shelves were fairly new, so when I hung them in the laundry room, I bought some new brackets at Ace Hardware.

I had three shelves left over that, I used in by workshop.  I decided to be creative, most people call it rigging, and I used some old Support Lift Struts from an old 1986 Trans Am rear hatch window as brackets to hold my shelves.  They worked like a charm.  I had two Support Lift Struts from the hood of the Trans Am that I used on the second shelve. 

There it was. I got a fix for my addiction of collecting things.  Psychologists would say that I got positive reinforcement from a negative action.  That being my habit was good and justifiable.

Some folks would tell me that I am good at saving stuff and using them in creative inventions.  Others would encourage me to buy a bigger building for my collecting of stuff.  But, I know that I need to rid my shed of stuff that I will never use and hinders me from using my time wisely.

You know the same is true in our Christian walk.  Sometimes we have to let go of stuff to make room for better things and opportunities.  If we are not careful, we have a tendency to collect stuff in our lives that hinders us from being productive.  The writer of Hebrews says it like this:  



Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us. . . (Hebrews 12:1 KJV).



Then sometimes I feel like Lazarus.  He was dead and Jesus raised him to new life.  Lazarus was alive, a resurrected person, but the old grave clothes kept him from really living.  He would have never been capable to achieve new things by keeping on grave clothes.



And he that was dead came forth, bound hand and foot with graveclothes: and his face was bound about with a napkin. Jesus saith unto them, Loose him, and let him go (John 11:44 KJV).