Tell the truth, preacher. Or find another profession.

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I knew Lawrence well and spent a lot of time with him.  He pastored some sizeable churches and was often in demand as a guest speaker.

I must have heard him give his testimony a dozen times or more.

Lawrence did not come from a Christian family.  He was around 10 years old when his family moved into that neighborhood in some east Texas town.  As the family was still unloading the truck and setting things up, a man knocked at the door.

Introducing himself as a deacon in the local Baptist church, the man told Lawrence’s mother that he taught a Sunday School class of boys. “Did I see a tow-headed boy running around here somewhere?”

“That would be Lawrence,” she said as she called for him.  “This man wants you to go to Sunday School with him.”

As the deacon extended his invitation, Lawrence listened and nodded. He would say later, “I had already learned the way to deal with church people was to agree with them.”

He had no intention of going to that or anybody else’s Sunday School class.

The man said, “Now, Lawrence, I’ll be by in the morning around 9 am to get you.  You be ready.”

The next morning at 8 o’clock there was a knock at the door.  The deacon said to a sleepy-headed boy, “Good morning, Lawrence.  Get some clothes on and eat some cereal and I’ll be by in an hour to get you.”  And he left.

“Now, what are you going to do with a fellow like that?” Lawrence would ask his audience.

And that’s how it happened that Lawrence began going to a wonderful church where he heard the Gospel and came to know Christ and eventually received the call to preach.

One Sunday some years later, the pastor asked members of the congregation to go to the individual who had invited them to church or had had the most to do with their coming to Christ.  Lawrence spotted that Sunday School teacher in the choir and started toward him.

That’s when he noticed a long string of men, young and not so young, like stairsteps, lined up to shake that man’s hand and thank him.

It was a good story.

Too bad it wasn’t true.

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Lily, a senior lady in my church who blessed my life

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Lily has been in Heaven for some 15 years or more. She left no children, so there’s no one left of her family to read this and no good reason not to tell it.

Lily was a classy lady, about the age of my father and the widow of an executive who left her fairly well off, although not rich. Before retiring, she had put in a full career as a public school librarian.  Because she had no children she was generous with her two nieces, with her church, her college, and her pastors.

When I announced I was leaving and would no longer be her pastor, she invited me to lunch and handed me a check for $1,000. “I want you to come back and do my funeral.”  I forget my exact promise to her, but it was probably along the lines of “If I possibly can, I will be here.”  Pastors are unable to make long-range open-ended promises because of the nature of their responsibilities. (Complicating the matter was that I had taken a leave of absence from that church with no knowledge of where the Lord would be sending me next. Distance could be an issue on returning for her funeral, as well as unforeseeable circumstances.)

Over the next few years, she would repeat the “agreement” we had, that I was expected to do her funeral.

Lily was one of those members who refuses to let go of the former preacher. She stayed in touch through an occasional letter or phone call. When a relative drove her to Baton Rouge to visit a friend, they detoured down to New Orleans to see us.

One day I received a letter from her with a check for $10,000. She made it out to my church to use any way we pleased.  It allowed us to do something I had long wanted to do, a morning radio program (a live two-minute Phone Call from the Pastor) over the seminary’s Christian station.  Lily’s gift funded it for several years.

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The Lord felt so near

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I’ve been thinking on the nearness of the Lord.  Those special times when His presence was a living reality.  You felt you could almost reach out and touch Him.

This month’s issue of DECISION magazine, the evangelical publication from the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association, has the story of Missionary John Paton until the title Alone in the Tanna tree: John Paton’s faith in the darkest hour.  Taken from his memoir, it’s about the time in the New Hebrides islands when a cannibal tribe was after him.  The chief was his friend, but a war chief was leading the search for Paton.

The chief had his son lead Missionary Paton to a large chestnut tree.  He was instructed to remain in the tree until nighttime.  Paton wrote: The hours I spent there live all before me as if it were but of yesterday.  I heard the frequent discharging of muskets, and the yells of the savages.  Yet I sat there among the branches, as safe in the arms of Jesus!

Never in all my sorrows did my Lord draw nearer to me, and speak more soothingly in my soul, than when the moonlight flickered among those chestnut leaves, and the night air played on my throbbing brow, as I told all my heart to Jesus.  Alone, yet not alone! If it be to glorify my God, I will not grudge to spend many nights alone in such a tree, to feel again my Savior’s spiritual presence, to enjoy His consoling fellowship.

As I reflected on Mr. Paton’s experience, I thought of two things.

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Lessons the day we buried my wonderful mother

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(This was first posted fourteen years back, on this date in 2012. I thought it deserved a second airing. See what you think.)

Monday and Tuesday nights of this week, I slept in our family farmhouse alone. It’s the first time in my long life I’ve done that. That house was built early in 1954, and ever since my parents have lived in it, never venturing away for more than a day or so. They were the ultimate homebodies. Over the years, whenever I visited them, I never needed to call ahead to see if they would be at home.

They were always home. Always.

Now, the house is empty.

Dad died in November of 2007; Mom died last Saturday, June 2, 2012.

Mom and Pop are united in Heaven. They each lived past their 95th birthday, and Mom almost made it to 96. Longevity is a good thing if you get the living part right. They aced it.

Tuesday, we had Mom’s funeral. Her casket sat at the foot of the church altar just as her youngest son Charlie’s had in April 2006 and Pop’s did 18 months after that.

The same three preachers did Mom’s funeral as did Pop’s (Pastor Mickey Crane, my brother Ron, and I). The songs were different, and maybe the scriptures. But the congregation was much the same.

It felt like the second verse of the same song.

This Thursday morning, lying awake in bed when I wish I could have been sleeping, I thought of lessons you learn or get reinforced in family funerals that you might otherwise miss. I came up with 12; there are probably 500.

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The problem is with us: we were unwilling

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“…but you were unwilling” (Matthew 23:37).

Why doesn’t God do this, why doesn’t He do that, what’s wrong with God, where was God when this happened?

One would think, from our constant griping and questioning of the Almighty, that we have a handicapped Deity, one who suffers from a lack of information or some chronic disease which limits His ability  to come through for us as we have (ahem) ordered.

We certainly seem to be a dissatisfied bunch.

The problem is not with God. We are the problem.  He is more than willing to do “abundantly above what we ask or think” (Ephesians 3:20).

Scripture makes crystal clear that we have a willing Lord and the problem is not with Him….

–“I am willing,” said the Savior to a seeking leper, as He reached out and did the unthinkable and touched the untouchable and made him well (Mark 1:41).

–“How many times I would have gathered you together as a hen shelters her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing” (Matthew 23:37).

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What is a pastor to do when he becomes an atheist?

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Jerry Dewitt says he is the most disliked person in DeRidder, Louisiana.

All he did was to renounce his Christian faith–he’d been pastor of the First Community Church there–and become an apostle for atheism. That’s all.

This story is some years old now, and I dug it out of my files.  But here’s the gist of it…

The New Orleans newspaper carried the story. Jerry Dewitt was a Pentecostal preacher, he says. After struggling with his doubts for years, he went public with his unbelief and had now been unemployed for several months.

He described his journey to unfaith as “lonely and stressful.” For years, he said, he kept a phony public identity, preaching doctrines he no longer believed, practicing a faith that did not work for him.

The three doctrines he could not get past–

–One. He had trouble with hell. How could a loving God create such a place in His universe?

–Two. He doubted the authenticity of the gifts of the Spirit, which is a major emphasis in the Pentecostal churches.

–Three. He doubted the authority of the Scriptures.

The article says Dewitt is now out of the pulpit and public about his non-belief. He has begun to do a little speaking, telling his reverse-conversion story around the country before local humanist groups. More than that, he is the unpaid executive director of Recovering from Religion and works with the Clergy Project, a website that invites and privately counsels doubting pastors behind a password-protected firewall.

Promoting atheism is his new ministry. He calls himself a pastor still, in his role of counseling people struggling with faith issues.

These days, he said, he’s trying to “reinvent himself as a speaker on the atheist and humanists circuit, hoping to earn enough money to make a modest living.”

Any minister who reads this will have a host of reactions, and no doubt several questions. Here are my thoughts–

1) Sadness. I hate that this happens. Dewitt said there are other ex-ministers in his organization.

2) Understanding. Most of us have all wrestled with these same issues concerning heaven and hell, spiritual gifts, whether God answers prayer, His purpose in suffering, and the inspiration of Scriptures. None are simple; we are not asked to “live by faith” for no reason. It takes great faith to believe in and serve God.

3) Longing. That man needed a friend, someone to talk over these matters.  Apparently, he kept it to himself until the dam burst and he could not keep it in any longer.

4) Greater sadness. Dewitt was about to lose his home because he can’t meet the mortgage payments, and he said his marriage was in trouble.  Dewitt may have gone through the same struggles the rest of us did, but came out on the wrong side. That road is the way of despair, believe me.

5) No judgmentalism. I hope he is not “disliked” in DeRidder, a heavily evangelical section of southwest Louisiana. We Christians are to love everyone, even our enemies (see Luke 6:27ff).

6) Admiration. I appreciate his honesty in leaving the pulpit.  At least Dewitt had the integrity to admit his nonbelief and to walk away from the pastorate.

I have several questions for anyone struggling with these issues and considering renouncing his faith in Christ.

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The war to remain humble

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“Humble yourself.”  (Source? A hundred scriptures.) 

I know precious little about humility. However I know one big thing: God requires it in His people.

Scripture is filled with teachings, examples, violations, commands, and encouragements regarding humility. Even our Lord Jesus Christ was humble and became our example. (As the Lord of Heaven and earth, if one person had a right not to be humble, it was Jesus Christ!  And yet, there it is.)

Try these passages for starters: Matthew 11:29; John 13:14-15; Philippians 2:5-8.

Scripture tells believers to put on humility (Colossians 3:12), be clothed with humility (I Peter 5:5), and to walk with humility (Ephesians 4:1-2).

Our Lord wants us to be humble so much He has given us seven aids to accomplish this and to keep us that way.

1. Common sense.

Look around at the size of our universe and the billions of people. Look above at the zillions of stars. You’re sitting on one small planet circling one humble star. They’ve been around for eons, while you have only a few more years of life here. If that doesn’t humble you, you’re not paying attention.  (See Psalm 8)

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Let’s you and me pray for our pastors. Seriously.

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There was a time when it was easier to pastor a church than it is today. There was a time when churches running 1,000 on Sunday were considered mega. There was a time when churches took what they had in the way of pastoral leadership and pretty much went with it without a lot of complaints.

Those days are no more. It’s a different world we live in.

People demand strengths and excellence and results from their leaders. They look for power in the pulpit and skills in relationships. They want advanced degrees and magnetic winsomeness and it wouldn’t hurt if you looked sharp either.

They want to be fed in sermons and challenged in programs. They want input in decisions and no longer hand the keys to the kingdom to the incoming preacher.

What they do not want is to be embarrassed from the pulpit, for their church to become the laughingstock of the community, for the attendance to drop, or for the financial situation to become dire.

If they could, they would like the church to reach the unchurched and make a difference in the poorer section of town, but they want this without changing the nature of what their church has always been.

If they could, they’d like to become a mission-minded congregation where members go overseas and return with glowing reports of work done, but they’d prefer this without themselves being asked to go.

They want good sermons and effective leadership from a pastor who has earned their respect and whom they like.

Just don’t bother them too much in accomplishing this.

Poor preacher. Someone ought to encourage him. Lord knows there are enough forces out there overwhelming him in the other direction.

Today, let’s pray for him. Let’s “give him heart,” as the word “encourage” actually means.

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Pastors, get it right or be quiet!

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So, I’m sitting in some huge meeting with hundreds of the Lord’s people representing churches across our state or country. A large number of preachers are in the audience. The speaker is sounding forth on some subject of importance to us all.

Suddenly, the speaker comes out with a statement that gets a hearty “amen,” something that sounds profound and undergirds the point he is making. He goes on in the message and every person in the room but one stays with him. Me, I’m stuck at that statement. Where did he get that, I wonder. Is it true? How can we know?

If social media has taught us anything, it’s to distrust percentages and question quotations.

A Facebook friend’s profile contained a quote from President Kennedy. I happen to know the quote and while I cannot prove JFK never uttered those words–how could we prove that about anyone saying anything–I know how the line got attached to the Kennedys. It’s a quotation from a George Bernard Shaw play.

Some see things as they are and ask ‘Why?’ I see things that never were and ask ‘Why not?’

In 1968, at the funeral of his brother Robert F. Kennedy, Senator Ted Kennedy spoke that line as applying to him. It’s a terrific depiction of vision. And, I imagine it was the first time for most of us to hear the quote. As I recall, the source was not given in the oration, which may have led some to believe Senator Kennedy made it up.

One thing we can be sure of, however, is President John F. Kennedy is not its source. Nor is any Kennedy. And yet, keep your eye out for that quotation. Half the time, its source will be listed as one of the Kennedys.

Accuracy is important for all of us, but particularly those of us called to preach God’s truth.

Unfortunately, because we speak so often–some pastors deliver three or more sermons per week, fifty weeks of the year–we go through a lot of material.   It figures that sometimes we are going to get our stories wrong.

That’s why something a preacher said hit me so hard and drove me to do a little fact-checking.

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The real question about the world’s suffering

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I need to tell you a story.

In her World War Two novel, His Majesty’s Hope, Susan Elia MacNeal tells of a German nurse, Elise, who learns that a Downs Syndrome child in her care was abruptly discharged and bused to some distant hospital where she was later reported to have died of pneumonia. Elise decided to look further into this suspicious matter.

Donning her nurse’s uniform, Elise boarded the next bus carting children to the hospital in question. All the children on board, she noticed, were blind, deaf, epileptic, retarded, and similarly handicapped. The nurse in charge seemed callous and uncaring, and administered a sedative to “help the children rest.”

At its destination, the bus was met by authorities who instructed the children to disrobe for a shower. Doctors examined the children, marking those with gold fillings in their mouths with a large X on their bodies. As they entered the shower room, a large metal door slammed behind them and latches were thrown. That’s when Elise realized what was happening.

The children were being gassed. Exterminated.

“You’ll get used to it,” said an orderly to the stunned Elise.

She ran outside the building and vomited on the grass.

Later, on the bus ride back into Berlin, Elisa asked the other nurse, the hardened one, “But what about the fifth commandment? ‘Thou shalt not kill’?”

“That’s no commandment of God’s–just a Jewish lie, meant to keep us weak,” she said. “We don’t need to follow it any more. Besides, it’s not killing, it’s euthanasia.”

Elise asked about the doctors who were killing the children.  If they refused, she was told, they would be sent to the Eastern Front and assigned to a suicide squad.

“Elise’s ears began to ring. She thought she might be losing her mind. She closed her eyes. ‘I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills,’ she prayed silently, ‘from whence coming my help. My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth….’”

“But where was God as the children…were being murdered? Elise wondered. She said Hail Mary after Hail Mary, and still received no answers. And felt nothing but horror and despair.”

“And then the thought hit her. What if God were asking the exact same thing? What if God is asking where are we?”

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