CHAPTER THREE: "ONLY RATS AND KIDS DESERT A SINKING SHIP" OR "INSTANT YOUTH GROUP, JUST ADD TEENS AND ICE CREAM"

            Those first few months of ministry were very challenging for me and, I am sure, for the church as well. You see, I entered the ministry prior to attending seminary. I was extremely candid with myself in that I had absolutely no idea of what I was doing, in a professional sort of way that is. The only thing I really had going for me was business/life experience and a personal assurance that God had placed me into this position. That being said, I was not totally lacking in Biblical knowledge because the church I attended was a teaching type of church. Also, I just could not put the Bible down after coming to Christ. I remember reading the King James Version from cover to cover in that first month after becoming a Christian. The only problem was that reading the KJV reminded me of how frustrated I was trying to understand the archaic language of Shakespeare in the eleventh grade. I would read a passage only to find out it meant exactly the opposite of what I thought it meant. I simply could not come to a complete understanding of what was being said. I was very naive in these matters at the time and thought that the KJV was the only translation available, since that is what my church used for readings. So, I bought a Key Hebrew Greek Study Bible and reread it. This took two years as I spent a great deal of time looking up every scripture and word reference translated from the original language. Finally, at the end of all that someone introduced me to other translations which were much easier to understand. However, I am so thankful that I spent the time looking up those references. God has used that study time in so many ways over the years.

          The second, and primary, thing I had going for me was that I was forced to rely totally and completely on God for guidance due to my lack of experience and training. Friends, it seems like such an obvious thing when you read it, but as I was to discover later on, it becomes very easy to rely more upon yourself than upon God as you gain experience and knowledge. Many pastors have taken serious nose dives as a result of this over the years myself included.

So, it was in this spirit that I began to address the pressing problems of the church. One thing that was painfully obvious to everyone was the lack of young people in the church. In fact, except for Jack and Jean and my seventh grader son that was it. No youth group, no children’s group, no kidding. The issue came to the forefront when my own son asked if he could attend another church in town because they had kids his own age. Being a Navy veteran, I used the vernacular of a sailor to answer him (no, I didn’t swear). I said, in a loving way, of course, “Son, only a rat deserts a sinking ship, go make friends and bring them to church with you!”

          In an effort to build unity and fellowship, we started holding ice cream socials every Sunday evening. During these times, we would discuss issues in a much friendlier atmosphere than a dreaded church “business meeting”. One evening I inquired about the lack of basketball hoops on the church’s outdoor basketball court. An elderly deacon stated emphatically that he had personally removed them. He said that the noise of children playing bothered him as his house was across the street from the church. I remember asking him, with a smile, if he would prefer a noisy church or a dead church. Fortunately he understood the implication and only requested that I close it down after nine every night. So the next day, we had new hoops installed on the court. It turned out to be a wise investment for the church as it became a fun place for young people to hang out and play basketball.
  

          Due to our church’s weekly ice cream social I noticed that our church was growing. Unfortunately, it was in weight and not numbers. I had gained almost 10 pounds in a matter of weeks much to my chagrin, so playing basketball seemed to help. Also, we had quite a collection of ice cream flavors building up in the freezer. One evening I was sitting in the fellowship hall pondering what to do with all the ice cream when I heard a knock on the church door. It was my son and a few kids from the court asking to use the bathroom and get some water. In a stroke of pure inspiration I said, “come on in, and while you are here you might as well help me eat this ice cream before it goes bad.” Within a few minutes there were several teenagers sitting around a table in the fellowship hall enjoying ice cream and each other. This became a weekly ritual for the kids that they truly looked forward to. From that simple application of the world’s greatest food, a youth group was instantly formed that led several young people to receive Jesus as Lord and Savior. My personal hope is that there will be ice cream in heaven that we believers will one day share with Jesus Himself.

These are the wonderful lessons I learned from this experience:

1.) God can, and will, use any means to bring people to himself, including basketball and ice cream.

2.) Just because a ship appears to be sinking does not necessarily mean that it will.

3.) Never lose hope when facing what appears to be a hopeless situation.

4.) Never be afraid to lovingly confront opposition to God’s plan for reaching out to those who so desperately need Him.

5.) Young people are noisy and messy, but they can also bring new life to a dying church.

CHAPTER TWO: “The Cane Mutiny” Or “Sit Still and Be Quiet!”

                 As I settled into my new role as pastor, I noticed a steady stream of new faces in attendance on Sunday mornings. One family group that stands out in my memory is of a little lady I will call Emma.  She walked slowly and was bent over from years of spinal issues that required the use of a long black cane that she nurtured, much as a soldier nurtures his rifle.  One thing is certain, she wasn’t afraid to use it to keep her great grandchildren in line.  Jack was eleven years old and his sister Jean, was eight.  These poor kids had a hard life and it was only the love of their great grandma that gave them any sense of security.  Grandma Emma would look after them as best she could and see that they attended church with her every Sunday.  Their parents were into drugs and alcohol so the children were left mostly to their own devices.  Poor Jack was diagnosed with ADHD but I suspected that his attention deficit was more related to a lack of attention from his parents rather than any disorder.
  
            Fortunately, or unfortunately, the parents seized any opportunity to have the kids out of their life.  If that meant church with grandma, then that was fine with them.  Jack was prescribed Ritalin for his condition and his parents would withhold it from him until he got home from church so they would better be able to deal with him.  Also, Jack was usually totally wired from sugared cereal before coming to church and found it very difficult to sit still for any period of time.  Emma would allow him to sit in an empty pew right in front of her under constant threat from her trusted weapon of choice for child control.  Now, I don’t want to leave the impression that she would actually use it on him as it was more of an implied threat.  One thing is certain, Emma was hard of hearing.  The entire church would hear her “whisper” to Jack, “sit still and be quiet!” at least once a minute.  One morning she had had enough and whacked the wooden pew right beside Jack’s head to get his attention.  The resounding noise could be heard outside the church such that the neighbors thought someone had discharged a firearm inside.  No, it was just Emma discharging her cane.

            After church that morning I asked her if she would allow me to try to handle Jack the next Sunday.  She readily agreed and wished me “good luck”.  The next Sunday when Jack came in I asked him if he would do me a favor and lie down on the front pew and color while I was preaching.  I wanted him to draw and color what he was hearing or whatever was on his mind.  He looked at me suspiciously but I assured him that I wouldn’t scold him for doing what I asked.  I remember saying something to him like, “Jack, that front pew has not been sat in for many years.  I want you to own it.  It will be yours for as long as you come to this church.  No one can sit there unless you say it is OK.”  His eyes were as big as saucers and he said, “Do you really mean it? Is it all mine?”  “It is all yours Jack. I mean it”.
    

            From that point forward, Jack would proudly sit in his pew and own it.  He would draw, or color or just lay there and apparently daydream, but the behavior issues vanished almost immediately.  No more, “Sit Still and Be Quiet” was heard in the sanctuary.  Relief was felt by all, but mostly by Jack.  Almost every Sunday he would ask me a question about something I had said during the sermon.  I was careful to answer his questions directly but did not press him.  Then, one Sunday morning, it happened.  Our church had an invitation time to pray with the pastor or make a public profession of faith in Jesus Christ.  Jack got out of the front pew and in just three quick steps was standing before me saying, “I prayed that prayer with you this morning pastor.  I want Jesus to be my savior and to be baptized.”  I looked up to see his great grandma Emma, wiping away the tears from her eyes.  I had a few of my own as well.  That was one of my favorite Sundays ever.  I will never forget it. 

 These are the lessons I gleaned from this precious time:

1.)   God can use great grandmothers and empty pews to      reach difficult people.

2.)   God did not need Ritalin to control Jack’s behavior.

3.)   Children, just like adults, have a very basic need to be    heard.  We just need to take the time to listen.

Jack continued to grow in his faith and maturity and became a positive role model for other troubled children who would be attending church in the future.  He would invite them to sit with him on his very own pew and do whatever they wanted.  Our God is an awesome God!

CHAPTER ONE: “UNMET EXPECTATIONS” Or “THE DAY THE LIGHTS CAME BACK ON”

          The moment I walked into the sanctuary I could feel the tension.  This was my first official Sunday at my first official pastorate.  I had very high hopes of setting a positive tone for the church nicknamed “The Preacher Killer”.  I was determined not to join the previous cloud of pastoral witnesses that had come and gone so quickly since the founding of the church in 1809.  Long term ministry was considered to be about eighteen months and I was soon to find out why.

            So, with all the optimism I could muster, I strolled into the church on that first Sunday morning.  There were approximately seventeen people present in a church that could comfortably seat three hundred.  My expectation was for better attendance on my first day so I waited as long as possible for the last minute stragglers to arrive.  Alas, that was to be it.  No stragglers and no crowd. “So that’s it? There should at least be as many people present on my first Sunday as there were to vote for me as pastor.”  The Scripture came to mind of God speaking to Cain, after murdering his brother Abel, and asking him “Why has thy countenance fallen?”  God knows my morbid sense of humor and this brought a smile to my face as I struggled to overcome my “fallen countenance”.

            Just then, the church’s antique organ began to play. It sounded OK and if I listened closely, I could just make out the melody of “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.”  Oh well, these are the folks who wanted to be here today so let’s worship.  I closed my eyes and concentrated on the words and began to sing them with all the gusto I could muster.  Half way through the first chorus the realization came to me that I was the only one singing.   Now I can tell you that my voice is not the most pleasant sounding thing you could hear, but I didn’t think it was that bad.  I slowly opened my eyes to see seventeen pairs of eyes glaring back at me.  After the organ finished playing I stood to do the welcome.  I thought I would break up the tension with a little humor so I asked, “Did you like my solo?” One of the deacons replied, “We don’t sing during the call to worship.  Look at your bulletin, it says Organist.”  Now this was the same deacon who told me at my interview that they were considering me because of my previous business experience.  They wanted a pastor who was strong enough to stand up to opposition when it came.  I was fully prepared for opposition, but I really didn’t expect it to come on my first Sunday, and especially from him!

            We struggled through the remaining order of worship until it was time for me to “preach”.  By this time, I was really steamed up and literally was thinking this might be the shortest pastorate in church history. Yes, dear friends, no matter what you might think or have been told, pastors do have tempers and are definitely not perfect.  As I looked down to read the Scripture that I was to “preach” on, it became clear to me that God really does know what He is doing and He really does reveal Himself in ways that we can only imagine.  I felt my anger subside as I began to read the words of Jesus, “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love.  If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father’s commands and remain in his love.  I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete.   My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.  Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.  You are my friends if you do what I command.”  John 15:9-14 (NIV).

            As I looked up from reading into those seventeen pairs of eyes, I felt an emotion that I totally did not expect; love.  So at that moment began a tradition that I carried with me throughout my years of ministry; I said to them, “I cannot preach until we all do something together”.  You could sense the fear and confusion in the sanctuary at that moment.  Something new was happening and it wasn’t in that precious bulletin!   Every eye was on me as I said, “Stand up and give someone a hug and tell them that you love them.” As you can imagine, there was stone silence in the room, but I wasn’t budging.  It was make it or break it time as I saw it.  In the ensuing stare down, I was thinking, “Oh well, I am getting canned on my first Sunday and I didn’t even get to preach.  How am I going to explain this on my resume?”   Finally, an elderly lady, in resignation, broke the silence and said, “Alright, how many people do I have to hug?”  I said, “Well, there’s not too many of us here today so how about everyone.”  My deacon friend gave me a wry look and said, “What if I don’t love everyone in here?” And so began the new traditional for me and the church.  I said, “Give someone a hug and tell them that you love them, if you don’t love them, shake their hand.” Slowly, laughter began to break out, first on one side of the sanctuary and then on the other.  The folks actually got out of their pews and began hugging each other and sharing joy with laughter.  I watch my deacon buddy dutifully shaking hands with everyone.  I asked him about it later and he said, “I am not a hugger!”

            It is difficult to explain, but at that very moment a change took place in that little church.  One of the ladies said to me afterward, “Pastor, today the lights came back on in here.” I asked her what she meant and she said, “I sensed God’s presence in this church for the first time in many years and it’s good to have Him back.  He turned the lights back on.” 

            I don’t really remember the words of the sermon that I preached but I will never forget what happened.  These are the valuable lessons learned by me that day:

1.)  People may not remember your words, but they will                        remember how your words made them feel. 

2.)  God is bigger than any church tradition.

3.)  God can break through to even the most calloused of                    hearts.

4.)  People crave the presence of God but they are afraid                    of what He will do if they allow Him to go too far                            into their lives.

Thus began a series of marvelous encounters with these dear folks, and others, who came back to church to see “the lights that God turned back on”.