Thanking a Father in the Lord

Six years ago I had the privilege of joining other ministerial alumni of Blue Mountain College (http://www.bmc.edu) in honoring Dr. James Travis. Retired after teaching for 36 years, Dr. Travis influenced several generations of young pastors through his faithful, enthusiastic friendship and instruction. He was the first mentor many of us had in ministry. In my own life, Dr. Travis...

* encouraged me to make a firm, clear commitment to the ministry;
* sent me out on my first preaching assignment to a little church in north Mississippi;
* recommended me for my first staff position in a church;
* taught me (and many others) how to perform a baptism;
* preached at my ordination; and
* helped me settle into my first pastorate.

What he did for me was not special--he helped hundreds of young people get on their feet, get back on their feet, and stay on their feet during critical times in their lives.

I had someone take my picture with Dr. Travis during my visit to the campus. But for as long as I have been in ministry, he has been "in the picture."

Dr. Travis passed away in 2005. I didn't have an unlimited amount of time to tell him what he meant to me.

Paul was right when he said we do not have many "fathers" in the Lord. I have been fortunate to have had several over the years. Saying "thank you" to those men has become increasingly important to me as they age and as I realize the impact they had on me.

Who can you thank for where you are today? Who has invested himself in you and made the difference? Why don't you give them a call or drop them a note this week.

Preacher, What Will You Preach This Sunday?

With economies floundering and a potential flu epidemic, it's natural for someone to reflect on the big questions of life: why am I here? What does life mean? Where is God?

How should a Christian preacher respond?

During World War II, Martyn Lloyd-Jones continued to preach at the historic Westminster Chapel in London every Sunday morning--no matter what. Famous for preaching through books of the Bible, Dr. Lloyd-Jones did two things well.

First, he never deviated from his careful exposition of the Scriptures. No matter what was happening in the world of current events, Dr. Lloyd-Jones believed the best thing he could do for his people was to supply them with a complete diet of God's Word. Armed with truth, the flock would be best prepared for whatever they might encounter during the week.

Second, he typically integrated observations and insights on current events into whatever message he was preaching Sunday. Although he continued to preach through books, he believed it was important not to ignore current events, but to think through those events biblically.

In 1944 a German bomb exploded near the chapel while Dr. Lloyd-Jones was preaching. A cloud of dust enveloped the congregation, turning everyone white. One woman thought they had all died and gone to heaven!

After a slight pause... Dr. Lloyd-Jones continued preaching and finished his sermon.

The Cemetery Next Door

In 2003 my wife and I made a run down to Yazoo City, Miss. for the funeral of her grandmother. A wonderful believer born in 1916, she lived her entire life in the hills just above the Delta cotton fields with a simple faith and an unconditional love for people.

Conducting her funeral in a little Methodist church near her home, I was reminded of something often lost to congregants of newer church buildings: the cemetery next door.

When the old timers built their churches they didn't worry about parking or a premium location. They didn't have a website with streaming audio of the most recent sermons. Nor did they have projected images for sermon outlines or song lyrics.

But the old timers who built their churches with the cemeteries next door lived with a stunning, weekly reminder that death was near and life was short. Each time they entered and exited the church building, the markers of the dead stood before them as silent messengers of a very real eternity awaiting all of us.

As I stood before family and friends and reminded them that "death is swallowed up in victory" (1 Cor. 15:54), I looked out and saw that cemetery. To emphasize Christ's victory over death in the face of a constant reminder of death was a little easier there--with a cemetery next door.

You may not have a cemetery next door anymore, but the need for that weekly reminder remains--as much as ever.