From the President
Sometimes when I close my eyes my mind lights up with images of colleagues I have known and admired over the years. I remember the stories we shared about the joys and frustrations of ministry. But most of all, I remember them in the pulpit preaching the gospel and weaving together a message that would call the listener to a higher, better way of living. Their presence in the pulpit led the listener to conviction and that conviction led the listener to action. These women and men of the cloth knew that there is no substitution for the preaching of the gospel.
My home pastor, Otis Doherty, was one of those pastors. He went home to be with the Lord on Tuesday, June 16, 2015, surrounded by his loving family. Otis had a love of preaching and a gift for building up the body of Christ. I remember when he donated a kidney to his son, Glen. Glen had double kidney failure and was near to death. Otis was the closest match. The surgery then was long and difficult and the recovery time elongated. I can see him with cautious calculation waddling his way down the aisle of the church on a cane, making his way to the pulpit, on his first day back to preach after an extended absence. The surgery was successful. He was still weak. The text for the sermon I still remember 52 years later: "No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends"[John 15:13]. His example and life illustration still preach today.
On one occasion, Otis preached about the destructiveness of gossip. He said that gossip was like a feather pillow that has been broken open. Once the feathers get loose it is hard to gather them all back inside the pillow case again. I have always tried to resist gossip lest feathers get loose that I cannot recover.
Then there was that terrible controversy in the congregation: Should women wear lipstick or not? Some felt that painted lips were a distraction to men and could lead to sin and debauchery. When Otis was asked his thoughts on the topic, he paused and thoughtfully replied: "Well, I've never seen a barn that didn't look better after a coat of paint." The controversy immediately ended.
Like, Otis, I remember hearing another mentor and colleague in ministry preach. He told the story of the pastor who was visiting an old lady near death. Her mouth is gaping open and she's drooling out the side. He says, "Mrs. Jones, before I leave, is there anything you would like me to say or do? " She told him she would like him to pray. He asked if there was something specific she would like him to pray for. "I'd like you to pray for my healing, of course," she answered. He thought to himself, "Oh God." So he prayed that, if it was God's will, to please heal her and, if it was not [God's] will, then to help everyone to adjust to the situation. Amen.
With that, she sits up in bed and says, "Wow!" she throws her feet over the side of the bed, stands up, flexes her muscles, and says, "This is unbelievable! I feel wonderful!" Then she walks down the hall and calls out to the nurses' station, "I think I'm well! I think I'm well!" The pastor leaves the hospital, gets into his car, and says to God, "Don't you ever do that to me again!"
Sometimes when I close my eyes my mind lights up with images of colleagues I have known and admired over the years, like Fred Craddock, the author of that story. He went home to be with the Lord on March 6, 2015. Preaching changes lives. I know it did mine thanks to colleagues like Otis and Fred, and all who labor week in and week out to make that vital connection that has the power to transform life.
Remembering-ly yours, |