WE CAN’T DO MUCH, BUT WE’RE HERE TO HELP

 

            The men’s ministry at Union Springs Baptist Church in Randolph, Alabama, voted to put new shingles on the roof of the old educational wing. Several of the men were carpenters, and they met on a Saturday morning with others who knew how to help replace shingles.

            As summer days in Alabama are hot and humid, the men and boys decided to start work by seven o’clock. Some roof repairmen will leave the old shingles on for added protection, but the shingles on this old building were too deteriorated. To do the job right, workers remove the old shingles.

            Around six thirty the men and boys started gathering. Two men, Ollie and Cody, came that morning. Ollie was well into his seventies, and Cody was in his early sixties and had glaucoma. Both of them said, “We can’t do much, but we’re here to help.” Both men enjoyed working around the church and always came ready to do something.

            Men and boys started the laborious job of tearing off the old shingles and pushing them off the roof. Torn shingles, nails, and old tarpaper went tumbling over the edge of the roof and onto the ground. The boys got a thrill being destructive.

            When the roof was clean, men and boys carried new rolls of tarpaper, new shingles, and new nails onto the roof. Chalk lines marked the places where new shingles would go, and the noise of hammers pounding against new nails sounded in a methodical rhythm as the shingles were systematically attached to the roof.

            The ladies of the church said that they would bring dinner for the crew. Because of the great turnout of men and boys, the roof was finished before eleven o’clock and before the ladies arrived with dinner!

            Before the workmen started down from the roof to get ready for dinner, they took a break to cool off. The topic of conversation was the cleanup. All the old shingles, tarpaper, nails, paper that had wrapped the new shingles, and scrap pieces from the new shingles were on the ground. The sun was almost straight overhead, and it was hot.

            Every worker got a surprise when he got to the ground. There was not a single piece of refuse there! Ollie and Cody had picked up every piece and hauled it away in a wheelbarrow. They burned what they could and threw the rest in the trash. The two men who “could not do anything” had finished the part that all the men and boys were dreading. It was a wonderful feeling to be doing something for God’s house!

            Everyone complimented each other. Ollie and Cody said the new roof was perfect. The men and the boys thanked Ollie and Cody for their great cleanup. Everyone thanked the ladies for a delicious dinner.

So we rebuilt the wall till all of it reached half its height, for the people worked with all their heart. (Nehemiah 4:6, NIV)

 

Now he that planteth and he that watereth are one: and every man shall receive his own reward according to his own labour. For we are labourers together with God: ye are God's husbandry, ye are God's building. (I Corinthians 3:8–9, King James Version)

 

Think about this: When was the last time you thanked someone who surprised you by doing a task you dreaded to tackle?

Take a moment to write down the names of some people who do the small, but important, things around your church.

What gifts do you have, and how are you using them for the Lord?

Prayer: Father, You give each of us gifts to minister in Your kingdom. In the eyes of men, we may not offer much, but You take our limitations and do miraculous work. Help us to do what we can to be intentional in our ministries and faithful in living the Great Commission. Thank You for using people who think they cannot do much, but who do incredible ministries that inspire more for You. Help us to give a word of encouragement or a note of appreciation to those who labor in Your kingdom and help make Your house and worship so wonderful.

Reflections

 

Back in June 2011 I had prayer that morning for the retirees of Linden City Schools.  They told me to adlib for the “Reflections” part I had on the program.  That was easy, since most of the stuff I did, as Director of Missions seems to be adlib.  I was supposed to be on vacation, but WMVB (Moody Radio) needed my voice, Pam, BBA secretary, needed an article, and the school needed my prayer.  I guess the school realized I needed to practice my public prayers, Pam needed to fill space on the back of The Alabama Baptist, and John Rogers of Moody Radio needed me to fill a time slot with information from Bethel Baptist Association.  That being said, my vacation plans are flexible, so I adlibbed, and changed plans for a few hours. 

Something caught my attention at the retirement celebration.  One teacher served 39 years.  That is significant.  She began teaching a year after I graduated.  Can you believe that fifty-two years ago I graduated Jemison High School?  It has gone so fast.

I remember at our fifteenth-year reunion that our biology teacher was celebrating her thirtieth reunion year.  We kidded her about being old when she taught and how did she feel about going to her reunion of THIRTY years.

I think some of my classmates may have matured a tad bit more that they would like to admit.  I know that Miss Clairol is a personal friend of most of the girls, oh, I’m sorry, I mean senior adult women, in my senior class, and Father Time has caught most of us guys who have developed the dreaded furniture disease.  That is our chest has dropped into our drawers.

Most of our reunions have been on a riverboat ride departing from Montgomery.  The ride is forty-five minutes down river and forty-five minutes to return.  It begins at twilight and concludes as night settles over town.  The nighttime skyline of Montgomery is mesmerizing.  The lights are absolutely breathtaking.  I love the nighttime, especially in the winter when it is drizzling rain.  It is a time of reflection for me.

Unconsciously, I think it has something to do with my arrival to earth.  No, I’m not an extraterrestrial being even thought I may appear to be one.  I was born at night during a freezing rain.  I know that I cried that night because it was so beautiful.  I think that’s way I cried.

Another thing is that I dated many nights underneath beautiful star filled skies.  I got my first kiss at night on a front porch.  I worked more night shifts than day shifts at the cement plant.  I work better at night than in the daytime.  If fact I worked into the night trying to finish this article for Pam.

Unfortunately, most people associate night with the negative or the bad.  Some folks have trouble seeing at night. Driving at night is a big thing among senior adults.  I remember overhearing one of our senior adult ladies at our Senior Adult Revival asking if a certain eligible senior adult man had his driving license and if he could drive at night.

Evil people work their evilness behind the cloak of darkness.  Thieves do their thieving at night.  Good, that is light, is often contrasted with Bad, which is darkness.  Satan is the prince of darkness.  That is the way life is, someone or somebody can ruin a good night.

Take old Judas for instance.  Jesus and the gang were having a swell nighttime party and Judas had to do his dastardly deed and betray Jesus.  The fourth gospel, The Apostle John, uses light and darkness figuratively.  John says that when Judas left the upper room “it was night.”  C. Welton Gaddy in his book Geography of the Soul says, “That is not merely an observation about the time of day; it was a comment on the condition of Judas’ soul.”

He (Judas) then having received the sop went immediately out: and it was night (John 13:30 KJV).

The disciples knew their potential for betrayal because the Last Supper was a time of refection.

Running

Several years back I went for a checkup on my knee replacement.  The doctors gave a great report.  I asked if I could continue walking seeing some people that have had knee replacement were told they could not walk for exercise but told to ride a bicycle.

The doc said walking would be good.  I told them that I did not want to wear it out prematurely.  They responded that the titanium knee would last me the rest of my life.  I responded that I had hoped to live to be an old man!  They assured me that it would last and to return to whatever I was doing.

I asked them if I could jog.  At one time, I was jogging three miles every other day.  Every once in a while, I would jog seven miles.  Doing that two days in a row, I decided to stick with the three miles.

I remember jogging one morning when a deacon from my church pulled along side of me.  He smarted by saying, “It don’t matter how much you plowed the mule, he’ll stay fat if you continue to stall feed him.  You need to push back from the table.”  I said, “I jog to eat.”

Back to the doctors.  I asked them what things can I do and they said anything.  I asked if I could play tennis.  They said yes, preferably with partners.  I asked if I could run, they said sure.  I begged please say I cannot run!

Running for me is a sign of punishment.  I remember having to run extra laps when doing something wrong in football.  We had to run when we lost, when practice was not suitable to the coach, when we missed a block or a tackle, and we ran to satisfy the coach.

It is hard for me to justify running, especially since both knees went bad.  I have done my share of running.  I have run chasing pigs, ponies, cows, chickens, and all kinds of animals.  I have run to catch footballs, baseballs, basketballs, and tennis balls.  I have run to catch a ride, to get help, and to be on time.  I have run from rattlesnakes, Doberman pinchers, and bumblebees.  I even ran from girls at one time and ran after them later.

I heard evangelist Jerry Pipes say that he quit running stating is was fruitless.  His reasoning was that God gives us so many heartbeats and he did not want to waste his running.  I agree whole-heartedly.  I wasted two good knees and no telling how many days I took off my life.

I tell people that I don’t run any more.  If you see me running, it’s gonna be real bad.  I have just returned to two miles of walking most days.  Six months later I had my left knee replaced and had to start the walking all over again.

I was out walking my two miles one day when by neighbor came running by me.  I told him I remember when I used to run.  I shook my head thinking to myself, what a waste of heartbeats.  You can get a high running.  The body releases endorphins that act like painkillers.  When I ran, I felt that I could compete in the Olympics.  That was the endorphins doing the thinking.

I worry about folks that run all the time.  I not talking about running here and there, but those people in their funny looking shorts, jerseys, and footwear that run, run, run.  They, along with bicyclists, are kinda weird.  I think they too have had just a little too many endorphins.

Running is a young person thing, but every once in while you read about some senior adult that has had an overdose of endorphins and they run.  Seeing senior adults in running apparel can be an ugly site.  There are things that just ain’t right.

In ancient times, it was considered very undignified for a senior man to run.  Aristotle expressed the same Shibboleth: “Great men never run in public.”  Shibboleth means belief or custom that distinguishes one group from another.  All I know is if I see a senior adult running, I gotta see what’s chasing him or her.

When you think about Aristotle’s quote, it makes us look at the Father in the story of the prodigal son in a different light: I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants.  And he arose, and came to his father. But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him.  And the son said unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son. But the father said to his servants, Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet: And bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry: For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found. And they began to be merry (Luke 18-24 KJV).

In a period when everyone wants to feel warm and fuzzy about church, Jesus reminds those that listen about repentance.  We must return to the Father.

Jesus reminds us in the parable that the Father, who is a picture of God, ran as fast and as quickly as he could to express the longing of his heart to welcome his son home.  Did you get it?  God runs to us.  Our willing to return to the Father unleashes His immense, incalculable responsiveness.

"Be My Valentine?"

Do you remember your first Valentine card from your first love?  I remember exchanging Valentine cards and hoping to have a special note from that special little girl that I had a big crush.  She wrote in my Valentine, “Would you be my Valentine.”  Being the dummy I was I discovered that she had written that in every card she gave to the class.

Tucked away in my old Bibles are Valentine cards that my three children Andy, Angela, and Aaron have given me through the years.  I keep them and read them when they are angry with me.

Through the years I have been to many Valentine banquets.  Some have been very formal and many have been simple.  Some have been humorous and some have been serious.  There have been those with TV personalities and some with well-known preachers and church leaders.  There have been those where the menu included steak and potatoes, ham and potato salad, chicken and green beans and always a red velvet cake.

I have been the guest and I've been the host.  I have been the keynote speaker, one who served, and been the headwaiter.  I have been with my sweetheart, my wife, my daughter, and widows.

One church where I was pastor we planned a Valentine Banquet for the senior adults where our young people served and the adult ladies' class cooked.  I had been involved with many church banquets and had very few problems planning and hosting events.  But one would have thought I had asked the adult ladies to prepare for the Queen of England and all her entourage.

The adult ladies' teacher went ballistic.  She panicked saying that they could not cook for huge number of senior adults, all fifty of them.  All the adult ladies were great cooks and cooked for numerous Sunday dinners on the ground, but the teacher had a medulla oblongata malfunction, in other words, she went crazy.

She called a meeting after church one Sunday prior to the banquet, which several of the senior adults attended.  She fussed and fumed saying her class could not do such an undertaking.  I reminded her that the church was buying the food, the young people were serving, and I would help, but it was useless.  I could not understand her dilemma knowing that six ladies from a former, smaller, church I pastored fed members from six churches at a countywide Thanksgiving supper and had plenty of leftovers.  I felt embarrassed for the senior adults were hurt by her actions.  Thank God one of the class members who volunteered to do it.  Three volunteers cooked a feast fit for the Queen of England for the senior adults, whom many are now gone to be with the Lord.

At another church, we had just completed a new family life center.  I thought it would be wonderful to have a formal Valentine banquet for our youth, you know one where everybody dressed up.  This church was very casual in their attire.  In fact they were too casual.  They said the casual dress was not to offend unchurched people and those who rode the church van.  They did not want to “run them off.”

Right off the bat, I was confronted.  I received a lecture on the destitute status of many of our youth, how my expectations were too lofty, and my feelings too callous.  One would have thought I had asked them to dress in evening gowns and tuxedos for the presidential inaugural ball.

Knowing the spiritual immaturity of this member, I asked her if her daughter went to the prom, if she participated in beauty contests, or if she went to school dances.  She concurred that she did.  I asked her if she dressed for those events as she did for church.  She politely told me that her daughter did not.  I said that it is a shame that parents would spend hard-earned money for tuxedos and evening gowns for worldly events and would dress shabby when attending the house of God.

That was over a decade ago.  I agree with a pastor friend who said of people who lead in worship at large events now days.  He said it looks as if these people need a comb for their hair, a razor for their beards, and an iron for their clothes.

The Bible is our Valentine and worship is our banquet.  I want to dress as if meeting a king when I attend church, because Jesus is King of kings and Lord of lords.

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life (John 3:16 KJV).

He that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love (I John 4:8 KJV).

. . . for he is Lord of lords, and King of kings . . . (Revelation 17:14b KJV).