You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” (John 8:32)
Many of us grew up in church but we rarely stop and ask ourselves if we know Jesus the way it appears some of our friends know him. I grew up in church, and remember being dragged to tent revivals in the late 1950’s by my mom; and yet twenty-one years ago when I was asked by my now 31 year-old daughter If I was saved, the only thing I could offer as an answer was, “I’m not sure I know what you mean by that question.”
I couldn’t have been more honest. Even though I grew up in an Independent Baptist church and a Southern Baptist church where the expression is used freely, I don’t remember ever hearing the word.
But my daughter knew what it meant because when I responded that I wasn’t sure what she meant, she boldly asked me, “I mean have you asked Jesus Christ to be your Lord and Savior?”
That was the beginning of my new journey, and today, just like my daughter, I can boldly proclaim that I am indeed “saved”.
Where did that ten year-old child get the boldness to ask such a question? She got it from church in which my wife grew up in as a young adult and in which she was raised as a young child. These church members were taught by their pastor never to be ashamed of the Gospel.
The pastor of her church – now my church, too – retired last week after 40 years of faithful service. As I reflected on the impact of his ministry, I wondered if our community really understood how much this man has done to proclaim the Gospel, and teach others to do the same.
I remember the first time I met him. I wasn’t a church member. I visited his church on a Sunday night with my now wife– then just a good friend. It was my wife’s daughter, Lauren, who popped the question to me that ultimately led to my salvation.
I was scared to death of this church. I had lived and worked in his community for almost three years and heard all of the rumors about them. They were “fanatics”, some would say, “way out there with Jesus”. And their pastor – he was a judgmental, self-righteous pastor who saw faith as a one-way street. You lived it out as Scripture proclaimed it to be lived out…no exceptions.
The night I first attended his church, a woman who proclaimed to have been healed ran around the church, screaming all the way. As I watched her circle the church, I thought to myself that everything I had heard about this church was true…at least that’s what I thought then.
What do I think now? I could not have been more wrong. I was the one who was the judgmental, self-righteous Christian. Today I believe this pastor is one of the heroes of our faith. You won’t find him in Chapter 11 of the Book of Hebrews where other heroes like Abraham, Moses, Samson, even Rahab are recognized. But believe you me, he belongs beside them.
This is a man I’ve watched, obviously quite critically over the last 21 years. I’ve never met a more forgiving man. I’ve watched him cry at the altar repeatedly when church members and visitors, living in sin and he knowing it, came forward to repent for their lifestyles. There he stood, tears coursing down his face, happy for them, and willing to give them the shirt off his back to help them on their journey. I never saw the judgmental, self-righteous pastor about whom I had heard. What I saw was a loving, forgiving man who took great joy in helping others to understand what the live-saving, life-changing power of Jesus Christ could do for them.
He was ridiculed by some because he refused to compromise Scripture. If the Bible said it was wrong, it was wrong and he said it. And when it came to going to heaven, he was right – there is only one way – through Jesus Christ, who himself said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” (John 14:6)
There are thousands of us who owe him a great deal of thanks. The good news is our community has not lost this spiritual giant. He may no longer be the pastor of my church – health and age have required him to slow down. But thank God he’s still around, and for him I prayerfully hope that St. Barton’s Ode is true:
I am hurt, but I am not slain! I will lay me down
and bleed awhile; then I’ll rise and fight again.
Get your rest, Pastor, and call me when you’re ready to fight again!
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