The best is yet to come

Left to right: Me, Grandma, Aunt Willie, and my cousin, Gabriel (1970-2014), probably late summer 1971.

It’s not over until God says it’s over. Sometimes your last years can be your best years. For examples, I need not look any further than my great-grandmother, Minnie Duncan Gray (1896-1986), and her sister, Wylodine Duncan Alexander (1898-1998). The year I was born, Grandma turned 67 years old, and Aunt Willie turned 65. In my opinion, their greatest usefulness for Christ was in their senior years.

First of all, they knew Jesus, having both professed faith in Christ on the same night—September 19, 1913—during a “revival” meeting at Oak Grove A.M.E. Church in Florence, Alabama. All the time I knew them, they lived consistent Christian lives, and were the same people at home as they were in church on Sunday. I believe it was because of their faith that they were probably two of the wisest people—wise in terms of godly wisdom—that I’ve ever known.

Interestingly, they both had the spiritual gift of teaching—teaching the word of God. Aunt Willie taught the Bible both in her home, with friends, and at church, for the adult Sunday School class. Aunt Willie became involved in the start of a new church when she was 74. In this new church, she organized and taught the adult Sunday School class, organized and taught a Wednesday night Bible class, and organized and directed the choir (for which she drafted me as the musician at age 9), as well as served as church treasurer and one of the church trustees. When Aunt Willie left our church to become a part of this new church, Grandma stepped up to teach the adult Sunday School class at our church. Grandma taught this class for 11 years, “retiring” when she was 87. Over the years, countless people told me what a blessing Grandma and Aunt Willie were to them, both as Bible teachers and godly examples. Even during the last 3 years of her very long life, paralyzed and blind in the nursing home, Aunt Willie was a blessing to many as she demonstrated patient and cheerful endurance in the midst of her obvious physical suffering.

Most significant to me is that Aunt Willie and Grandma taught me the Bible. They taught me, not only by precept, but by their faithful examples, to believe, honor and obey the Bible as the very word of God. It’s no exaggeration to say that in my pre-adult years I learned more about the Bible from Aunt Willie and Grandma than I ever did at church, and my view of the Bible was shaped more by them than by the church or its preachers. And, these women prayed for me (in fact, near the end of her life, Aunt Willie told me she specifically prayed for me twice a day). I am convinced that I am saved today in answer to their prayers. And by God’s providence, it was through Aunt Willie, in 1980, that I received the gospel message which the Holy Spirit used to bring me to saving faith in Jesus Christ.

I was led to reflect on all this as I thought about all the Lord has done in and through me these past 33 years (He has brought me such a long way), and as I thought about what He may yet have in store for me and my family during this next chapter of life in Washington, D.C. As far as effectiveness for Christ, I believe Grandma and Aunt Willie’s last years were their best years. I pray that, in whatever time the Lord gives me, these next years would be the best years in my service for Christ.

Televised interview of Dr. Martyn Lloyd-Jones

John Piper called Dr. David Martyn Lloyd-Jones, “One of the greatest preachers of the 20th century” and, from what I’ve read and heard from him, and read about him, I would tend to agree.

Thanks to Adrian Warnock’s blog, I was made aware of this fascinating video which shows a portion of a televised interview from 1970 of Dr. Lloyd-Jones. My understanding is that Dr. Lloyd-Jones made very few appearances on television, so seeing him “live” on this video is a treat for those of us who never had the opportunity to know or see him while he was living. The Martyn Lloyd-Jones Recordings Trust produced this video to mark the anniversary of Dr. Lloyd-Jones’ death, 30 years ago this week—St. David’s Day, March 1, 1981.

At one point in this interview, Dr. Lloyd-Jones was asked about his call to preach: “Did you feel in yourself that you had the qualities that would make a successful preacher?” Dr. Lloyd-Jones answered:

“I really was never concerned about that. My concern was with what needed to be preached, and it was this—with burning conviction as to the message needed—that drove me on. I’ve sometimes told people of a story which will help to answer your question, how, having taken my decision to go into the church and to preach, someone very near to me was walking with me one night and asked me the question, ‘How do you know that you’ll be able to preach? You know what you can do as a doctor. Why not go on with that and exercise Christian influence? What if you find suddenly that you can’t preach?’ Well, I’d only tried preaching about three times, in very small places, and the only answer I could give was this: ‘I know what I want to preach and what I think must be preached and I have a feeling, somehow, that I’ll be able to say it.’”

Dr. Lloyd-Jones’ answer reminded me somewhat of my own call, 22 years ago, to preach, and the burden Christ laid on my heart for His church and for a lost world.

“Because of His great love…”

Great, fatherly advice

By far the best advice I have received this year came from a dead man. I found it in the words of the late Dr. Martyn Lloyd-Jones (1899-1981) to his daughter, Elizabeth, in a letter he wrote to her in 1948. In answer to her questions about how she could know whether or not it was the will of God for her to be an overseas missionary, Dr. Lloyd-Jones had this to say:

The one vital, all-important thing is to know the will of God. It is not as easy as it sometimes sounds. I was for over two years in a state of uncertainty and indecision before leaving medicine for the pulpit. But in the end it was made absolutely and perfectly clear and mainly by means of things which God did.

These are the rules which I would advise you to observe:

1. Never speak to anyone about it. Don’t tell people what you are feeling and discuss it and ask for advice. That always leads to still more uncertainty and confusion. Make an absolute rule of this at all costs. Say nothing until you are absolutely certain, because we are all subject to self suggestion.

2. Do not even think about it and discuss the pros and cons with yourself. Once more this leads to auto suggestion and confusion.

3. In meetings, etc. do not start with the thought in your mind, “I wonder whether this is going to throw light on my question or help in any way?”

4. In other words, you must not try to anticipate God’s leading. Believing as I do that God does “call” very definitely, and in a distinct and definite doctrine of a call, and a vocation is distinct from “the need is the call” idea, I believe that Good will always make His will and His way plain and clear. With reverence, therefore, I say leave it to God entirely as regards purpose, time and all else.

All you have to do is to tell God that you are content to do His will whatever it may be and, more, that you will rejoice to do His will. Surrender yourself, your life, your future entirely to Him and leave it at that… You must not go on asking God to show you His way. Leave it to Him and refuse to consider it until He makes it impossible for you not to do so.

Also remember…that “to be” comes before “to do”. That is where we all fail. Our business is to make ourselves such instruments as shall be fit and meet for the Master’s use. He always tells such people how and where and when He wants to use them. You prepare yourself and He will then show you what He wants you to do.

[Iain H. Murray, David Martyn Lloyd-Jones: The Fight of Faith 1939-1981 (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth Trust, 1990), pp. 177-178.]

Over the past few months, I’ve grown to believe that Dr. Lloyd Jones may have been on to something when he said, “Don’t tell people what you are feeling and discuss it and ask for advice”. Sometimes, unfortunately, talking to fellow humans can be a waste of time, because they just can’t understand. Sometimes, only God truly understands. Loneliness is one means by which God can teach us to be totally dependent upon Him. Connected with Dr. Lloyd-Jones’ excellent counsel that “to be” comes before “to do”, I learn that my main business is to spend much time alone with God in prayer, depending upon God’s Spirit as I submit myself to the word of God.

“Woe to me...”

This morning I was looking at the table of contents of Dr. Al Mohler’s book, He Is Not Silent: Preaching in a Postmodern World (Chicago, IL: Moody Publishers, 2008), with the thought of possibly reading it while I’m at home on Winter Break.

Pastor James MacDonald’s comments on the flyleaf stung me:

“I preach because nothing else can satisfy the urgency and passion that God has ignited in my heart for His truth and His people. The same should be true for you. If you can go sell cars or shuffle stocks instead of being a pastor and preacher of God’s Word, then go do that.”

I agree with the sentiment Pastor MacDonald expresses. Yet, I’m not a pastor and the opportunities to preach are rare.

After all these years, it sometimes seems like a dream or fantasy. But, it wasn’t a dream and I didn’t imagine it. Over nineteen-and-a-half years ago, God called me to preach His Word and shepherd His people. I didn’t choose this; the burden was laid on me. After all these years, I still feel that burden.

And, like MacDonald implies, nothing else has satisfied me. Nothing. That’s why his comment stung. For what does one do when all the doors have closed? “If you can go sell cars or shuffle stocks instead of being a pastor and preacher of God’s Word, then go do that.” I agree. And yet, I wish it were that simple.

The fact is I also have a responsibility, before God, to provide for the family God has given to me. 1 Timothy 5:8 is clear: “If anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.” 2 Thessalonians 3:10 is equally clear: “If anyone is not willing to work, let him not eat.”

So, I work…doing something else besides being a pastor and preacher of God’s Word. In 1 Corinthians 9:16, I find where the apostle Paul wrote, “Necessity is laid upon me. Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel!” I think I understand what Paul meant.

And, it hurts so much.

“I am a debtor”

“Possibly he [Lloyd-Jones] had not yet thought much of the words of the Apostle Paul, ‘I am debtor both to the Greeks and to the Barbarians…’ (Rom. 1:14), but he felt their meaning and the sense of responsibility which they express. ‘A debtor,’ he once said in a comment on that text, ‘is a man who is conscious of certain pressures being brought to bear upon him. He is a man who feels that he has got something to which other people have a right. Paul is a man who has got something to give. He has been given it by the Lord. He has received it; he has got it. It has transformed his life, and he feels that he must give it to others.’”

Iain H. Murray, David Martyn Lloyd-Jones: The First Forty Years 1899-1939 (Edinburgh: The Banner of Truth Trust, 1982) p. 94.

“Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel!”

Eighteen years ago on this date, alone in my bedroom, on my knees, I embraced God’s “call” to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ. It was with fear and trembling and a great sense of unworthiness, as well as a deep awareness of my sin and weakness, that I tearfully said “Yes” to the Lord. The next morning, which was a Sunday, I told my great grandfather. Later that morning, at church, I told my pastor. Thus began this unbelievable odyssey that I’ve been on for the last 18 years.

At the time I answered God’s “call”, I was a committed member of the African Methodist Episcopal Church—the denomination in which I was raised—and an active part of the local church of which my family had been a part for over 60 years, at the time. God’s “call” came within the context of a growing passion in my soul for the spiritual needs of the Black community. You see, my heart ached for the church, particularly “the people in the pew” who, in many cases, were starving for the “living bread” (John 6:51) in churches where the word of God wasn’t preached, spiritually wandering “like sheep without a shepherd” (Matthew 9:36). My constant prayer for several months had been that of Saul, when struck down on the road to Damascus: “Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?” (Acts 9:6 KJV). I desperately wanted to be used by God.

After I made my calling known to my local church and the denominational conference, I embarked on the five-year process to full ordination, and prepared myself for life as an “itinerant elder” (i.e., a pastor) until retirement or death, whichever came first. My main ambition was simply to preach God’s word, feed Christ’s sheep, and win the lost.

As you know, if you’ve followed this blog, the journey hasn’t been anything like I imagined it would be. I achieved ordination, but I never was appointed to a pastorate. The denomination I thought I would serve in for the rest of my life, I ended up leaving in disgust and disappointment. The institution of the Black Church, which I longed to serve, never (to date) embraced me as warmly as the predominantly White church where my family and I now fellowship. As a result of saying “Yes” to God 18 years ago, I have experienced great highs, but I’ve also experienced crushing lows. I’ve had my share of joy as well as pain. There have been times in ministry when I’ve thought, “Yes! This is what I was born to do!” At other times, my faith has been staggered by heartbreaking experiences of profound disappointment. If it weren’t for the grace of God, I wouldn’t be here:

If it had not been the LORD who was on our side

—let Israel now say—

if it had not been the LORD who was on our side

when people rose up against us,

then they would have swallowed us up alive,

when their anger was kindled against us;

then the flood would have swept us away,

the torrent would have gone over us;

then over us would have gone

the raging waters.

Blessed be the LORD,

who has not given us

as prey to their teeth!

We have escaped like a bird

from the snare of the fowlers;

the snare is broken,

and we have escaped!

Our help is in the name of the LORD,

who made heaven and earth. (Psalm 124)

The apostle I most identify with is Peter. There have been times over the last several years when I’ve felt just like Peter must have felt when, after the resurrection, he tells the 6 other disciples with him, “I am going fishing”—going back to what he was doing before Jesus ever showed up (John 21). Perhaps, Peter felt it all had been a mistake. Certainly, Peter had messed up: he had denied his Lord. Whatever Peter’s hopes had been for ministry, most likely they had gone up in smoke. After all, the “movement” that Jesus led had fallen apart. The crowds from that first Palm Sunday had long gone. Judas Iscariot had hanged himself. So Peter says, “I’ll just go back to doing something I know how to do: fish.”

Eighteen years ago, I was a public school teacher, nearing the end of the second year of my first fulltime teaching job. Having perceived God’s call, my focus was set on ministry in the church. With all the closed doors and disappointments of the last 18 years, I’ve been sorely tempted to conclude that, perhaps, I made a mistake. Maybe God never called me to the ministry. Perhaps I’ve been self-deceived. Maybe I should just go back to doing something I know how to do: teach music.

But, then there is that well-known exchange between Jesus and Peter (John 21:15-17):

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” He said to him, “Feed my lambs.” He said to him a second time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” He said to him, “Tend my sheep.” He said to him the third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Peter was grieved because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” and he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.”

In the place of Peter in this text, I put myself: “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.”

“Wyeth, feed my sheep.”

Eighteen years ago, 1 Corinthians 9:16 was laid on my heart:

For if I preach the gospel, that gives me no ground for boasting. For necessity is laid upon me. Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel!

I still feel this burden, this “woe”. I still have the desire. I still see the need. I still long to be used by God…any way that He wants to use me. My prayer remains, “Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?”

Concerning “the call” to pastoral ministry

An excellent post at “Irish Calvinist” asks the question, “Have I been called to pastoral ministry?” I heartily agree here with Erik Raymond. I must say, this is a subject very close to my heart. In fact, this subject—pastoral ministry—stands way apart for me as the only painful thing about by leaving the Black Church to unite with a predominantly white, evangelical church (If I can gather my feelings together into words, I’ll have more to say about this in a future post).

Random thoughts about the church growth movement (Part 4)

Finally, I was also discouraged after reading this magazine of the church growth movement because, deep down, I knew I could never meet the leadership standards of the church growth experts. Let me explain.

I’m a product of the traditional Black Church. Everything about this magazine screamed white, suburban, upper-middle class, American. As I wrote earlier, I came away feeling, this is not for the Black community, not at all. In all honesty, I can’t relate to the values of the church growth movement. These “values” are foreign to me and to the church-going Black community in which I was raised.

But, this magazine touched an even deeper nerve with me. You see, almost eighteen years ago, with fear and trembling, I answered what I then felt (and still feel) was God’s call to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ. I said “Yes!” to God, not because I felt spiritually worthy or academically qualified or theologically knowledgeable. Rather, I said “Yes!” to God because I saw that people without Christ were lost, and many of them were in the church. I said “Yes!” because I saw people in the Black community perishing because of a lack of knowledge of God and His Word. I said “Yes!” because I felt God had called me to go wherever He sent me, to such as these, and “Preach!” That was a Saturday night, and I was in my bedroom, alone with God. I was 25 years old and single at the time, living at home with my great-grandfather (who died about four months later).

The next morning, Sunday, I told my great-grandfather what had happened. When I got to church later that morning, I told my pastor what I felt God had told me to do. I wasn’t subjected by my church to a spiritual gift assessment or required to take a personality test. I wasn’t required to enroll in an approved seminary. The pastor simply made an announcement to the church and a date was set for me to preach my first sermon, in order to demonstrate if I, indeed, had “the gift”.

Although I’d never studied homiletics, exegesis, hermeneutics, or anything like that, I set about preparing a message to preach. I prepared with prayer. I obtained my text and subject by prayer (Luke 19:11-27, “Will You Be Ready When Jesus Comes?”). I studied my King James Version Bible and a couple other translations, along with help from my Strong’s Concordance, and prayed to God for understanding. I wrote down what I felt God wanted me to say and, the Lord being my Helper, I delivered that message on Wednesday night, May 31, 1989. I had wondered how I would ever find enough to say for more than five or ten minutes. As if to dispel any fear that I wouldn’t have anything to say, God helped me preach for 40 minutes!

This was the humble start of a nearly 18-year odyssey that has taken me “through many dangers, toils and snares”.

Reading this magazine, and looking back on 18 years, which include many disappointments related to career and ministry, I began to feel very discouraged because I didn’t “measure up”. The church growth movement touts excellence, relevance and success. Now, I do the best I can do, but I wouldn’t call myself “excellent”, when it comes to ministry. I can’t say that I’ve ever tried to “make” the Word of God relevant. In fact, I never thought it was irrelevant! I don’t think of myself as a “success”. I mean, I’m not an entrepreneur or an innovator. I can’t point to anything I’ve “launched”. I suppose “unchurched Harry and Mary” would say I was a decent enough guy, but I can’t say they would be drawn to me. In fact, they’d probably be repelled by my conservative theology. I have no seminary degree and no record of pastoral achievement. I don’t know how (and, really, have never tried) to be clever or engaging. I don’t have a desire to “connect” with today’s culture. When God gives the opportunity, I just preach.

So, after reading what the church growth people had to say, I was feeling down and sorry for myself. Why? (To be continued…)

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)