I have been under the weather for three weeks with respiratory infections. I'm on anti-biotics now and improving. This is the third year in a row I have battled this kind of sickness in December/January. It was six weeks last year.
Cheryl is going to Memphis this week-end. We are still adjusting to Alethea and Justin's decision to move to the D.C. area. Those who sincerely desire and seek for the will of God will find it. The rest of us have to accept it.
Even in my sickness and with only three sessions I have bumpted Johnmark out of the top spot on three of the Wii fitness programs: jogging, sky jumping, and down hill skying. Not bad for an obese senior citizen.
Otherwise, there's not much to share, at least not things I am at liberty to talk about. Doesn't that make you curious? Or, maybe not.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Sunday, January 04, 2009
Obedience is Better Than Sacrifice
We have all met a few ministers who are less than stellar in their character. I have personally been lied to and lied about by fellow ministers. I have grieved as some have treated individuals and congregations with contempt, using them as stepping stones for personal advancement. Too many charlatans have risen in our ranks. Their carnality casts a shadow over the entire church. But let us not forget those thousands who quietly serve in the beauty of holiness as beacons of righteousness.
I have been privileged to know some exceptional servants of God, who accepted the call to preach, publish and defend the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Among them I would name Garland Mills and Larry Higginbotham under both of whom I was blessed to serve as Minister of Education. I would also name Eddie Williams and O’neal McCullough whom I have drawn strength from their example and marveled at the respect they garnered. These men are/were not perfect, but they certainly set a good standard to live toward.
The vast majority of the Church of God ministers I have known fall with me somewhere between the goal posts. We are confident in our call to preach the Gospel but uncertain about ourselves, our abilities. Why did God call us? At its best this reflects humility; at its worst it reflects self disdain. Everyone deals with this tension between call and confidence differently. Some attempt to cover-up their insecurities with an air of competence that comes across as arrogance. Others mask themselves in false humility. Most bounce around between the two extremes. Few are confident enough in their own personhood to truly be themselves with others. Transparency is a worthy concept as long as we’re looking into someone else’s glass house.
Ministers are caught in the dilemma of the already/not yet. We have tasted of the kingdom of heaven but we still eat the realities of this life. We proclaim a truth greater than ourselves but we then have to live with ourselves. What we know struggles with what we are, creating uncertainty in what we do. I am not here talking about sin or immorality; although that may indeed be the consequence of the struggle. I am instead referring to the more subtle questions of how pleasing am I to God?
I am convinced the central issue of life is, how faithful am I to the heavenly vision revealed in Christ? This makes the central question for all believers, what is the will of God? What does God desire for me to be, know, and do? The best of us struggle with this question. All of us will answer for how diligently we struggled.
Ivo Cantrel was the kind of man others wanted to emulate, at least those who desire to live a Godly life. I met him in September of 1980 shortly after moving to Louisville, Kentucky to pursue my doctorate. Larry Higginbotham was gracious and offered me a part-time position at the Dixie Valley Church of God. Brother Cantrel , who was retired at the time, had been helping Larry with some pastoral visitation. It didn’t take long to recognize Ivo as a choice servant of God. His life was marked by the fruit of the Spirit.
Not long after our arrival his health began to deteriorate rapidly; it was cancer. I went to visit him in the hospital a few days before his death. His wife and daughter, Reba, were standing guard. It seems some of our fellow ministers had been by trying to pray the prayer of faith which resulted in upsetting Brother Cantrel ; my impression was that he had already accepted it was his time to go. The vigilant women hesitantly gave me the go-ahead to spend a few minutes with him as they stood in the back of the room.
It was clear he was distressed but lucid. He seemed politely happy for my visit. After a couple of minutes of small talk I felt impressed to ask a question, “Brother Ivo, what do you spend your time thinking about while they’re holding you prisoner in here?”
“The Scriptures.”
Trying to guess his response before I even uttered my follow-up, “And what text is on your mind the most?” Anticipating Psalm 23 or John 3:16 or a reference to heaven, I wasn’t prepared for his answer.
“Luke 6:26 -- Woe unto you, when all men shall speak well of you! for so did their fathers to the false prophets.”
Mild panic hit me. Where do I go with this? Lord, help me? “That’s an interesting verse, why do you think it’s on your mind?”
“Because I am that man. Everybody speaks well of me. But I’m not certain what God is going to say.”
“Why? Is there something you need to talk about?”
“Everybody respects me but I feel like a failure. I worked for the railroad for thirty years* and I planted nine* churches in that time. God blessed every church we started. Every time we got a new church up and going good I had to decide whether to quit my job and go full-time or turn it over to someone else. I had a wife and kids to support and it was always such a hard decision. I fear God is going to hold it against me for not having the faith to go into full-time ministry.”
How does one respond to that? I knew I didn’t have the wisdom and so I prayed a quick S.O.S. and felt the touch of God. “Brother Cantrel, tell me something, when you made those decisions, did you pray about what to do? Did you desire to do God’s will?”
“Oh, yes! I’ve always wanted His will in my life.”
“Then that’s your answer. God is at work in us to ‘will and to do His good pleasure.’ It’s not important that we go into full-time ministry. What’s important is that we seek to do His will each step of the journey. He didn’t say enter in thou good and successful servant. He said enter in thou good and faithful servant. That’s why everyone speaks well of you, they admire your faithfulness.”
I have seldom felt more fulfilled than that moment when the peace of God settled on his face. Brother Cantrel had struggled with the central question of life, am I willing to pursue the will of God and be faithful to what He shows me? His humility gave him a good dose of uncertainty but that was overcome by his testimony. I am confident he heard our Lord say, “Ivo Cantrel, enter in thou good and faithful servant.”
To the extent I know my heart, my desire is to be found faithful.
[*Note: My recollections of this conversation are pretty certain, but I do not vouch for these numbers. They are in the ball park.]
I have been privileged to know some exceptional servants of God, who accepted the call to preach, publish and defend the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Among them I would name Garland Mills and Larry Higginbotham under both of whom I was blessed to serve as Minister of Education. I would also name Eddie Williams and O’neal McCullough whom I have drawn strength from their example and marveled at the respect they garnered. These men are/were not perfect, but they certainly set a good standard to live toward.
The vast majority of the Church of God ministers I have known fall with me somewhere between the goal posts. We are confident in our call to preach the Gospel but uncertain about ourselves, our abilities. Why did God call us? At its best this reflects humility; at its worst it reflects self disdain. Everyone deals with this tension between call and confidence differently. Some attempt to cover-up their insecurities with an air of competence that comes across as arrogance. Others mask themselves in false humility. Most bounce around between the two extremes. Few are confident enough in their own personhood to truly be themselves with others. Transparency is a worthy concept as long as we’re looking into someone else’s glass house.
Ministers are caught in the dilemma of the already/not yet. We have tasted of the kingdom of heaven but we still eat the realities of this life. We proclaim a truth greater than ourselves but we then have to live with ourselves. What we know struggles with what we are, creating uncertainty in what we do. I am not here talking about sin or immorality; although that may indeed be the consequence of the struggle. I am instead referring to the more subtle questions of how pleasing am I to God?
I am convinced the central issue of life is, how faithful am I to the heavenly vision revealed in Christ? This makes the central question for all believers, what is the will of God? What does God desire for me to be, know, and do? The best of us struggle with this question. All of us will answer for how diligently we struggled.
Ivo Cantrel was the kind of man others wanted to emulate, at least those who desire to live a Godly life. I met him in September of 1980 shortly after moving to Louisville, Kentucky to pursue my doctorate. Larry Higginbotham was gracious and offered me a part-time position at the Dixie Valley Church of God. Brother Cantrel , who was retired at the time, had been helping Larry with some pastoral visitation. It didn’t take long to recognize Ivo as a choice servant of God. His life was marked by the fruit of the Spirit.
Not long after our arrival his health began to deteriorate rapidly; it was cancer. I went to visit him in the hospital a few days before his death. His wife and daughter, Reba, were standing guard. It seems some of our fellow ministers had been by trying to pray the prayer of faith which resulted in upsetting Brother Cantrel ; my impression was that he had already accepted it was his time to go. The vigilant women hesitantly gave me the go-ahead to spend a few minutes with him as they stood in the back of the room.
It was clear he was distressed but lucid. He seemed politely happy for my visit. After a couple of minutes of small talk I felt impressed to ask a question, “Brother Ivo, what do you spend your time thinking about while they’re holding you prisoner in here?”
“The Scriptures.”
Trying to guess his response before I even uttered my follow-up, “And what text is on your mind the most?” Anticipating Psalm 23 or John 3:16 or a reference to heaven, I wasn’t prepared for his answer.
“Luke 6:26 -- Woe unto you, when all men shall speak well of you! for so did their fathers to the false prophets.”
Mild panic hit me. Where do I go with this? Lord, help me? “That’s an interesting verse, why do you think it’s on your mind?”
“Because I am that man. Everybody speaks well of me. But I’m not certain what God is going to say.”
“Why? Is there something you need to talk about?”
“Everybody respects me but I feel like a failure. I worked for the railroad for thirty years* and I planted nine* churches in that time. God blessed every church we started. Every time we got a new church up and going good I had to decide whether to quit my job and go full-time or turn it over to someone else. I had a wife and kids to support and it was always such a hard decision. I fear God is going to hold it against me for not having the faith to go into full-time ministry.”
How does one respond to that? I knew I didn’t have the wisdom and so I prayed a quick S.O.S. and felt the touch of God. “Brother Cantrel, tell me something, when you made those decisions, did you pray about what to do? Did you desire to do God’s will?”
“Oh, yes! I’ve always wanted His will in my life.”
“Then that’s your answer. God is at work in us to ‘will and to do His good pleasure.’ It’s not important that we go into full-time ministry. What’s important is that we seek to do His will each step of the journey. He didn’t say enter in thou good and successful servant. He said enter in thou good and faithful servant. That’s why everyone speaks well of you, they admire your faithfulness.”
I have seldom felt more fulfilled than that moment when the peace of God settled on his face. Brother Cantrel had struggled with the central question of life, am I willing to pursue the will of God and be faithful to what He shows me? His humility gave him a good dose of uncertainty but that was overcome by his testimony. I am confident he heard our Lord say, “Ivo Cantrel, enter in thou good and faithful servant.”
To the extent I know my heart, my desire is to be found faithful.
[*Note: My recollections of this conversation are pretty certain, but I do not vouch for these numbers. They are in the ball park.]
Thursday, January 01, 2009
When I was Young Sunday School Was Important
When I was young Sunday school was important. At the Springfield Church of God more people went to Sunday school than attended morning worship. In Sunday school I made friends, sang, learned a lot about the Bible, and got to know adults who loved Jesus and me.
Sunday school started at 9:45 with “Opening Session.” In smaller churches like my grandmother’s this was a time when everybody gathered in the sanctuary for an official opening for the day; the Sunday school superintendant presided over a reading of the “golden (Scripture) text”, prayer, and announcements. Since Springfield was larger with several hundred attendees we had our opening session in age graded departments: Kindergarten – ages 3 to 5, Primary – grades 1 to 3, Junior – grades 4 to 5, etc.
I seem to recall that younger children went straight to their classes. I first remember opening sessions when I entered the first grade and joined the “Primary Department.” I felt big going to Opening Session. We met in the Fellowship Hall on the first floor of the Education Building. Shirley and her friends were there. My mother’s best friend, Evelyn Bayer, played the upright piano for us to sing. We sang songs like “I’ll be a Sun Beam,” “The B-I-B-L-E,” “I’m in the Lord’s Army,” and “Jesus Loves the Little Children.”
One Sunday I was sitting behind Shirley while we stood to sing. Her best friend Terry Heath was standing next to her. When she went to sit I pulled the chair out from behind her and she went down, a gag I had seen somewhere. Sister Juanita Jones, a friend of my mother, told her what I had done. “I never would have thought Jackie would have done such a thing. He’s always such a good boy.” I was just having fun but suddenly I was caught in a moral dilemma, fun can be bad but feel so good. People had perceptions of who I was, a good boy, and I liked that. I doubt those lessons were in the printed curriculum.
In the 4th grade I went upstairs to the Junior Department. We were crowded into a smaller room. It was often noisy. Bigger kids talk to each other a lot. In the Primary Department we sat with our teacher and class. In the Junior Department we got to sit wherever we wanted. I liked to sit on the back row. There I could watch everything. I was becoming self-conscious of myself as a social being. I didn’t feel like I fit in although I had friends. But I loved to sing; we sang songs like “Only a Boy Named David,” and “V is for Victory.”
It was also in the Junior age that my Sunday school teachers became important. I was growing up and like all children that age I was beginning to understand who I was apart from my family. When I was younger I felt connected to my mother through my teachers. They were all women and they were friends of my mother. In the Junior Department the boys and girls were divided during class time. My teachers were men who I didn’t connect with my mother: Brother Grant - 4th grade, Brother Hutto -- 5th grade, and Brother Ellington -- 6th grade.
Brother Grant was a lawyer. His conversion and membership in our church was something of a milestone for the congregation. He was the first professional with a graduate degree to become one of us. Up to that time Sunday school teachers had to be filled with the Holy Spirit, but an exception was made for Brother Grant. He had to be seeking to be filled with the Spirit. For several years I watched him seek and he was serious about being filled with the Spirit. He would frequently pray in the altar, weeping and sweating profusely, until he became like a drunk man. Sometimes, for reasons I did not and do not understand, a couple of men would get him up and walk him around the sanctuary, one under each arm, praying as they went.
On the first Sunday of the school year Brother Grant told us he had a goal for us for the year. He wanted us to memorize the names of the books of the Bible in order. He would help us and test us each Sunday. Within a couple of weeks we had all memorized the names of the books and he announced a new set of goals involving a lot of Scripture memorization: the Lord’s Prayer, the Ten Commandments, etc.
He also started us on a pattern of engaging the Scriptures looking for meaning. His method of teaching was simple; after giving us an opportunity to recite from memory the assigned text we started the lesson. We each took our turn in the order in which we were seated reading one verse and commenting on its meaning. After each there was an open discussion. He would guide the conversation and add other points. Mostly, he affirmed our opinions and questions as important. Occasionally he would refer us to our parents (“What is circumcision?” “What does it mean ‘Abram knew Sarai’?”) He was learning with us. More than once I overheard him say “Those boys are teaching me more than I am teaching them.”
Grady Hutto was a burly, brick mason who had become a building contractor. On our first Sunday that year he announced he had a goal for us. He goal for the year was that we would all be baptized in the Holy Spirit. He encouraged us to seek for the baptism. He prayed for and with us in the altars of our church. Before the year was out we each had powerful experiences with the Spirit.
Although he never said so, Brother Hutto also set out to involve us in ministry. He would periodically take us, one or two at a time, out on visitation. We would visit the homes of boys our age who did not attend church. I am not sure where he got the names and I can’t remember any of them coming o Sunday school but I remember the long walks to the front doors. He also took us fishing a couple of times that year.
Brother Ellington was a smaller, quiet, piano mover. He had recently married Sister Jones, a widow with two sons a few years older than me. On the first Sunday he also announced a goal for us. He shared that when he first got active in church as an adult he became an usher and one Sunday the Pastor asked him to pray over the offering. He had never done anything like that and couldn’t get the words to come out. He wanted us to be able to pray in public. Every Sunday we had multiple opportunities to pray: the beginning of class, for prayer requests, and at the close of the class. We became comfortable praying in public.
The boys with whom I went to Sunday school during my Junior years grew up to serve the Lord, most as pastors. Timmy Hicks and his cousin Calvin Hammontree are Church of God pastors. Danny Smart and Aubrey Dykes (Aubrey was actually a year older but often attended our class) became Assembly of God pastors. I have lost all track of David Spencer although the last I heard about him in young adulthood he was an active church member. Gerald Jones joined our class sometime around the middle of the fifth grade and has remained an active church member.
I have little or no contact with the men those boys became. I lost contact with most of them when as I entered the 7th grade the church split over a relocation plan and my family went with the new congregation located closer to our house. About a decade ago Timmy took a class I teach at the seminary. I have bumped into Calvin a few times at church meetings. I periodically see Danny’s younger brother David, a graduate of our Seminary who is a career military chaplain for the Church of God. Perhaps more than any other group outside of my family these boys helped me sort through whom I wanted to become. They were mirrors of what it means to discover God in the presence of discovering myself. By God’s grace, with the influence of our families and a loving church, we resolved together to be faithful followers of Christ.
I have often reflected on the influence of these three Sunday school teachers on the Kingdom of God. None of them ever became famous or even well-known outside their families and local churches. And neither would any of us in the class. But how does anyone measure their influence? Collectively that small Sunday school class of boys has grown up to touch tens of thousands with the Gospel of Jesus Christ. We have traveled around the world, married and raised children to serve God. We have preached unknown numbers of sermons, given Godly counsel, performed weddings and funerals. At our best we have extended the ministries of these three Godly men by becoming co-learners with others on the journey toward Heaven. They helped point us in the right direction and deserve to share the credit for anything we have done for God. Perhaps, the true giants of the faith are those who serve faithfully, give themselves to others, and risk being transparent in their own search for fulfillment.
Sunday school started at 9:45 with “Opening Session.” In smaller churches like my grandmother’s this was a time when everybody gathered in the sanctuary for an official opening for the day; the Sunday school superintendant presided over a reading of the “golden (Scripture) text”, prayer, and announcements. Since Springfield was larger with several hundred attendees we had our opening session in age graded departments: Kindergarten – ages 3 to 5, Primary – grades 1 to 3, Junior – grades 4 to 5, etc.
I seem to recall that younger children went straight to their classes. I first remember opening sessions when I entered the first grade and joined the “Primary Department.” I felt big going to Opening Session. We met in the Fellowship Hall on the first floor of the Education Building. Shirley and her friends were there. My mother’s best friend, Evelyn Bayer, played the upright piano for us to sing. We sang songs like “I’ll be a Sun Beam,” “The B-I-B-L-E,” “I’m in the Lord’s Army,” and “Jesus Loves the Little Children.”
One Sunday I was sitting behind Shirley while we stood to sing. Her best friend Terry Heath was standing next to her. When she went to sit I pulled the chair out from behind her and she went down, a gag I had seen somewhere. Sister Juanita Jones, a friend of my mother, told her what I had done. “I never would have thought Jackie would have done such a thing. He’s always such a good boy.” I was just having fun but suddenly I was caught in a moral dilemma, fun can be bad but feel so good. People had perceptions of who I was, a good boy, and I liked that. I doubt those lessons were in the printed curriculum.
In the 4th grade I went upstairs to the Junior Department. We were crowded into a smaller room. It was often noisy. Bigger kids talk to each other a lot. In the Primary Department we sat with our teacher and class. In the Junior Department we got to sit wherever we wanted. I liked to sit on the back row. There I could watch everything. I was becoming self-conscious of myself as a social being. I didn’t feel like I fit in although I had friends. But I loved to sing; we sang songs like “Only a Boy Named David,” and “V is for Victory.”
It was also in the Junior age that my Sunday school teachers became important. I was growing up and like all children that age I was beginning to understand who I was apart from my family. When I was younger I felt connected to my mother through my teachers. They were all women and they were friends of my mother. In the Junior Department the boys and girls were divided during class time. My teachers were men who I didn’t connect with my mother: Brother Grant - 4th grade, Brother Hutto -- 5th grade, and Brother Ellington -- 6th grade.
Brother Grant was a lawyer. His conversion and membership in our church was something of a milestone for the congregation. He was the first professional with a graduate degree to become one of us. Up to that time Sunday school teachers had to be filled with the Holy Spirit, but an exception was made for Brother Grant. He had to be seeking to be filled with the Spirit. For several years I watched him seek and he was serious about being filled with the Spirit. He would frequently pray in the altar, weeping and sweating profusely, until he became like a drunk man. Sometimes, for reasons I did not and do not understand, a couple of men would get him up and walk him around the sanctuary, one under each arm, praying as they went.
On the first Sunday of the school year Brother Grant told us he had a goal for us for the year. He wanted us to memorize the names of the books of the Bible in order. He would help us and test us each Sunday. Within a couple of weeks we had all memorized the names of the books and he announced a new set of goals involving a lot of Scripture memorization: the Lord’s Prayer, the Ten Commandments, etc.
He also started us on a pattern of engaging the Scriptures looking for meaning. His method of teaching was simple; after giving us an opportunity to recite from memory the assigned text we started the lesson. We each took our turn in the order in which we were seated reading one verse and commenting on its meaning. After each there was an open discussion. He would guide the conversation and add other points. Mostly, he affirmed our opinions and questions as important. Occasionally he would refer us to our parents (“What is circumcision?” “What does it mean ‘Abram knew Sarai’?”) He was learning with us. More than once I overheard him say “Those boys are teaching me more than I am teaching them.”
Grady Hutto was a burly, brick mason who had become a building contractor. On our first Sunday that year he announced he had a goal for us. He goal for the year was that we would all be baptized in the Holy Spirit. He encouraged us to seek for the baptism. He prayed for and with us in the altars of our church. Before the year was out we each had powerful experiences with the Spirit.
Although he never said so, Brother Hutto also set out to involve us in ministry. He would periodically take us, one or two at a time, out on visitation. We would visit the homes of boys our age who did not attend church. I am not sure where he got the names and I can’t remember any of them coming o Sunday school but I remember the long walks to the front doors. He also took us fishing a couple of times that year.
Brother Ellington was a smaller, quiet, piano mover. He had recently married Sister Jones, a widow with two sons a few years older than me. On the first Sunday he also announced a goal for us. He shared that when he first got active in church as an adult he became an usher and one Sunday the Pastor asked him to pray over the offering. He had never done anything like that and couldn’t get the words to come out. He wanted us to be able to pray in public. Every Sunday we had multiple opportunities to pray: the beginning of class, for prayer requests, and at the close of the class. We became comfortable praying in public.
The boys with whom I went to Sunday school during my Junior years grew up to serve the Lord, most as pastors. Timmy Hicks and his cousin Calvin Hammontree are Church of God pastors. Danny Smart and Aubrey Dykes (Aubrey was actually a year older but often attended our class) became Assembly of God pastors. I have lost all track of David Spencer although the last I heard about him in young adulthood he was an active church member. Gerald Jones joined our class sometime around the middle of the fifth grade and has remained an active church member.
I have little or no contact with the men those boys became. I lost contact with most of them when as I entered the 7th grade the church split over a relocation plan and my family went with the new congregation located closer to our house. About a decade ago Timmy took a class I teach at the seminary. I have bumped into Calvin a few times at church meetings. I periodically see Danny’s younger brother David, a graduate of our Seminary who is a career military chaplain for the Church of God. Perhaps more than any other group outside of my family these boys helped me sort through whom I wanted to become. They were mirrors of what it means to discover God in the presence of discovering myself. By God’s grace, with the influence of our families and a loving church, we resolved together to be faithful followers of Christ.
I have often reflected on the influence of these three Sunday school teachers on the Kingdom of God. None of them ever became famous or even well-known outside their families and local churches. And neither would any of us in the class. But how does anyone measure their influence? Collectively that small Sunday school class of boys has grown up to touch tens of thousands with the Gospel of Jesus Christ. We have traveled around the world, married and raised children to serve God. We have preached unknown numbers of sermons, given Godly counsel, performed weddings and funerals. At our best we have extended the ministries of these three Godly men by becoming co-learners with others on the journey toward Heaven. They helped point us in the right direction and deserve to share the credit for anything we have done for God. Perhaps, the true giants of the faith are those who serve faithfully, give themselves to others, and risk being transparent in their own search for fulfillment.
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