Category Archives: Holy Humor
Valentine’s Day and the Preacher’s Daughters
I always thought that I was romantic. But having two attractive young daughters has taught me that I have a lot to learn about romance. (Sorry, guys, they’re both taken—both are now married.) According to my daughters, there are three different levels in a boy-girl relationship:
1. “Talking.” If you’re “talking,” it means you’re interested in each other, but you’re not committed to being boyfriend and girlfriend. You’re free to talk to others. A lot of this “talking” is actually “typing,” because they often do it by texting on their cell phones.
2. “Going out.” This means a commitment to being boyfriend and girlfriend. My generation called this “going steady,” but today’s teens call it “going out.” The only problem is, if they don’t have a driver’s license, they aren’t really going anywhere. Personally, I think they should call this “talking a lot more,” or “texting a lot more,” because that’s what they’re really doing.
3. “Dating.” This is for older youth who have driver’s licenses. If you’re older, you can go straight from “talking” to “dating.” Also, to further complicate things, you can be “dating” but not yet committed to “going out.” So in this scenario, you actually ARE going out, yet you are not officially “going out.”
To my daughters’ list of three levels, I would add a fourth level. If God leads you to Mr. Right, then at the proper time, you should move to a fourth level in a relationship:
4. “Married.” This is what happens when you decide to go out permanently.
I’m reminded of a conversation I once overheard in a flower shop just before Valentine’s Day. Some young men were in the shop, talking about their constantly changing girlfriends. An older man spoke up and said, “What you guys need to do is stop buying at the news stand and get a subscription.”
The Bible says, “Rejoice in the wife of your youth” (Proverbs 5:18) and “He who finds a wife finds what is good and receives favor from the Lord” (Proverbs 18:22). That’s why I’m happy for my daughters. And I pray that after they are married, they don’t forget to keep dating, and going out, and talking. I know that if they do, their subscription will never run out.
Church football– the other Sunday sport
Many NFL fans are not aware that there is another form of football played on Sunday. It’s called “church football.”
This game is often played by “bench warmers” who do not sing, pray, work or do anything much in the church but sit. They like to put the “backfield in motion” by making a trip back and forth to the restroom or water fountain. During “halftime,” when the music has ended and the sermon has not yet begun, they like to play “staying in the pocket,” keeping their money to themselves as the offering plate is passed.
Church footballers allow their children to run a “draw play” with the bulletin during the service. When the “two-minute warning” sounds and the sermon is almost over, they will try a “quarterback sneak,” leaving quietly during the invitation.
The preacher often tries to catch bench warmers in a “trap play” by calling on them to pray while they’re doing a quarterback sneak out the door. Church footballers often try to avoid the trap play with the “end run,” getting out of church quick, without speaking to the preacher or any other members. Then there is a “blitz” to the local restaurants. Many will also exercise the “halfback option,” as 50% of the congregation will not return to the evening service, especially on Super Bowl Sunday.
But then there is another breed of church football players. They are real winners who refuse to punt when the devil has them down on fourth and long. They choose to get into the game, block for their pastor, and tackle thorny problems. The preacher likes to put these people on the first string. When “sudden death” comes, they are the ones best prepared for the “overtime,” because they have committed the Head Coach’s playbook to memory and trusted Him to be right. They really believe they will win, no matter how big the opponent is, and because of their faith, they experience the thrill of victory, not the agony of defeat.
Which kind of church football player are you?
Keeping your dark secret from your pastor
Copyright 2013 by Bob Rogers
Many pastors have come to learn some deep, dark secrets of members that we must take to our graves. But thanks to HIPAA, one of the secrets we used to find out about has been hidden. I’m talking about the real first names of church members.
You see, hospitals list patients by the name that is on their insurance, not by the name their family and friends call them. In the old days, the preacher could look at the list of patients at the information desk, and find out, for example, that John Smith was actually Orville J. Smith. Of course, John didn’t like to use the name “Orville” and would beg the preacher to keep it a secret. Going to visit “Bubba”? No problem, you could just ask for his last name and find him. But then along came HIPAA.
HIPAA, which stands for the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act of 1996, is a law that protects the privacy of hospital patients and wreaks havoc on the hospital visitation ministry of pastors. Under HIPAA, patients have the right to refuse the release of any information to anybody, including their own pastors. And under HIPAA, anybody inquiring about a patient must give the correct name of the patient– even if the patient doesn’t go by that name.
So now when the preacher goes to the hospital and asks for John Smith, the lady at the information desk looks down at “Orville J. Smith” on her computer screen, and then looks up at the preacher with a smirk and says, “I’m sorry, we don’t have anybody by that name.” The preacher can beg and plead and promise to do a wedding for her family for free, but she will just say, “Have you ever heard of HIPAA? I can’t release that information unless you can give me the correct name.”
I must admit, we preachers had it coming. After all, for years we have abused that privileged information, barging into the hospital room and loudly asking, “How are you feeling Orville?” as John (a.k.a. Orville) hides under his sheets in embarrassment. But no more. Now, only God and your doctor have to know your real first name. That is, unless Orville wants his pastor to come pray before his next knee surgery.
The cycling pastor eats humble pie
Five years ago I started riding a mountain bike a few miles in the morning to work out at the YMCA. I figured with gasoline at $4.00 a gallon, I could pay for the bicycle in gas saved and be exercising while riding. Soon I was addicted to cycling, and started riding longer distances on Saturdays for fun. When I got up to nearly 20 miles, serious cyclists told me I should upgrade to a road bike, and I was blessed to receive one on permanent loan from a friend. Soon I was riding 30 and 40 miles on the weekends on the road bike, which is a lot easier and more fun to ride, with its light weight and narrow tires.
Then my brother, who lives in Louisiana, got into cycling. We decided that we would ride the 41-mile Longleaf Trace (near our parent’s home in Hattiesburg, Mississippi) over the Christmas holidays. Since I had been cycling a lot longer than Todd, I was sharing my expertise with him and comparing notes on Facebook and in phone calls. Soon he was riding 40 miles each weekend. I got up to 52 miles on my longest ride.
A couple of months before the ride, it dawned on me that my brother was going that distance on a mountain bike, while I was riding a road bike. I decided to be fair to him, I should also ride the slower, heavier mountain bike, and I started training again on my mountain bike. I had never been farther than 22 miles on a mountain bike. A couple of weeks before our ride, I got up to 35 miles on my mountain bike, and I thought I was going to die.
I should have seen what was coming, but my pride got in the way. On December 31, our Dad dropped us off in Prentiss at the beginning of the Longleaf Trace, with our mountain bikes. (That’s a picture of the two of us on this page, with Todd on the left, and me on the right.)
The idea was to ride in each other’s draft, taking turns leading one another. I led the first seven miles, with Todd right behind me in my draft. It was largely uphill, and then we took a break. I felt fine, but Todd said my pace seemed slow. He led the next 12 miles. Forget about staying in his draft, after about 5 miles, it was killing me to keep up with him. I had to make a decision: was I going to be in pain trying to keep up his pace, or just enjoy the ride? I decided to enjoy the ride and soon he was half a football field ahead of me, constantly looking back. After the next stop, I was feeling humiliated. I had to put the bicycle in a low gear to handle the slightest uphill slopes, while Todd started meandering on the path, over to the left and then to the right, just to slow himself down and keep from going over the horizon out of my view. Then he started telling me that he needed to reset his music on his mp3 player, and told me to go on ahead and he would catch up. Soon he was flying past me. I felt like the little engine that could, but I wasn’t so sure that I could. The last 10 miles were pure pain and determination. I think I saw a turtle pass me. After five hours and 41 miles on the trail, I finally crossed the line, muttering that I HATE mountain bikes. My brother was circling around the parking lot waiting for me, saying he could go another 5 miles. But I couldn’t be mad at him, because he was trying to be nice about it the whole time, thanking me for riding with him and saying how much fun we had. That evening he went out to a movie. I took ibuprofen and rubbed my sore thighs and knees at home.
The experience reminds me of the way we often see ourselves spiritually. We think we are really good people. We compare ourselves with others, and we look pretty good. But the Bible says, “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23) When we compare ourselves with God, He runs circles around us, and leaves us in the dust. It’s an humbling realization, but an important lesson for us to learn.
That long ride on mountain bikes with my brother taught me that I’m not nearly as great a cyclist as I think I am, and also encouraged me to keep on training. Getting a glimpse of God’s glory should teach us a similar lesson: we aren’t nearly as holy and good as we think we are, but we have a loving God who is waiting on us up ahead, accepting us for who we are encouraging us to do better.
However, there is also a difference. My brother can do nothing to help me, except give encouragement. My God can give me power to do what I cannot do myself. “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4:13)
I’m looking forward to the ride with God in 2013.
UPDATE: When I got back to Georgia, I noticed that my rear tire was lose and rubbing against the rim, so I took it to my bike repairman. He said the bearings were shot, and he said, “I don’t know how you even finished 41 miles with a wheel in that bad shape.” Soooooo…. maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t in as bad a shape as I thought! Looks like I need to challenge Todd to another ride on the Longleaf Trace!
The preacher who had too much fried chicken
As Thanksgiving comes and goes, most of us will feast on turkey, ham and many other wonderful foods. But you can get too much of a good thing– even fried chicken.
Fried chicken is so popular at church meals in the South, that some people call it “gospel bird.” But Dan Spencer from Thomasville, Georgia, tells about a preacher who had too much gospel bird. I don’t know if this story is true or not, but it makes a good point.
This particular minister was preaching a week-long series of revival sermons. Each day, he was invited to eat at the home of a different member of the congregation. And every day, they served the same thing– fried chicken. Most preachers like fried chicken, but not this man, which only made matters worse. Finally, he came to the last meal of the week, and when he sat down to eat, he looked and saw in front of him the same dish: fried chicken. The lady of the house asked the visiting preacher to ask God’s blessing on the meal, and this is what he prayed:
“Lord, I have it hot
and I’ve had it cold
I’ve had it young
and I’ve had it old
I’ve had it tender
and I’ve had it tough.
And thank you, Lord,
I’ve had enough!”
Sometimes we feel like that in life. Sometimes we just get to the point that we’ve had enough. We wonder if we can take any more of the troubles that life dishes out to us, such as financial problems, health problems and family problems. Sometimes we feel overwhelmed, even if it’s a good thing, we can get overloaded with work and busyness.
Thanksgiving is a wonderful time for us to stop and remember that in Jesus Christ, we can find peace when we’ve had enough. As Christ said, “I have told you these things so that in Me you may have peace. You will have suffering in this world. Be courageous! I have conquered the world” (John 16:33, HCSB).
So pass the chicken. I think I can take one more bite.
Finding a preacher who can sweat
Copyright 2012 by Bob Rogers
An older pastor retired and moved back to his home in rural Mississippi. A few days later, his phone rang. Below is a verbatim transcript of the phone conversation:
“You got a King James Bible?” the person asked.
“Yep.”
“Can you sweat?”
“Yep.”
“Got a handkerchief to wipe the sweat?”
“Yep.”
“Then I know a church looking for a preacher.”
Apparently, those were the qualifications for a preacher– a King James Bible and the ability to sweat when preaching.
The apostle Paul added some other qualifications. According to the King James Version, he said, “For Christ sent me not to baptize, but to preach the gospel: not with wisdom of words, lest the cross of Christ should be made of none effect. For the preaching of the cross is to them that perish foolishness; but unto us which are saved it is the power of God. But we preach Christ crucified, unto the Jews a stumbling block, and unto the Greeks foolishness; But unto them which are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of God.” (1 Corinthians 1:17-18, 23-24, KJV)
So if you’re looking for a preacher, find one that preaches about the cross of Jesus Christ, for the message we all need to hear is about Jesus’ sacrifice for our sin. And if the preacher can work up a sweat about it, that’s an added bonus.
Choking on communion
Copyright 2012 by Bob Rogers
Years ago, my whole church got choked up during communion.
I was the young pastor at a scenic little country church in southwest Mississippi, tucked amongst the pine trees at the edge of a national forest. One Sunday, I finished my sermon and prepared the people for the monthly celebration of the Lord’s Supper. After reading scripture about the body and blood of Christ shed for our sins, I raised the cover from the tray with the little juice glasses. The odor almost knocked out the people on the front row. But we just held our breath and started serving it. (What else could I do– stop the service and say the communion juice stinks?) A lady choked and gagged. Others downed it quickly with a grimace on their faces. We managed to finish, although for a moment I was afraid we were going to have to whistle the benediction instead of singing it, our lips were so sour.
After the service was over, a lady made a bee-line to “Bennie” (not his real name), the member who had prepared the juice. “Why was the juice so sour?” she wanted to know. He explained to her that he had reused the leftover juice from the previous month. “And where did you get the juice?” she demanded. “From Paw,” was his simple answer. “Paw,” who shall remain unidentified, was rumored to make homemade wine.
The day we got choked up in worship was funny. What is not funny is when something chokes off worship. Then the church has a problem. If you sing out with joy and somebody tells you that you sing too loud, that can choke your worship. If you shout “Amen” or feel led to raise your hands, and somebody glares at you for it, that can choke your worship. If you are judged by your appearance or clothing and not made to feel welcome, it can choke your worship.
So if you get the urge to choke in a worship service, ask God to help you swallow it. You’ll be glad you did.
The big preacher who made a grand entrance
Copyright 2012 by Bob Rogers
A large church had a rather large guest preacher one Sunday who made a grand entrance like none other.
The congregation had just heard a concert by a gospel band. The big preacher had been sitting behind the stage, enjoying the music. The music was over, and it was time for him to preach.
Since he was sitting behind the stage, the preacher had to step over wires and chords running to the keyboard, electric guitars and speakers that were used by the band. Unfortunately, as he made his way to the pulpit, his foot caught in one of the wires.
As he lost his balance, the portly preacher stumbled, but did not fall. Almost in slow motion, the preacher prevailed and sailed across the stage, maintaining enough balance to keep from falling, but not enough balance to straighten up. With arms flailing, he finally made it to the edge of the stage, and landed his large frame with a thud upon the keyboard, arms hanging over the keys. A discordant sound of many notes played at once as he landed, sounding even louder against the hushed silence of the congregation.
Slowly raising his head, the preacher looked up at the two thousand worshipers and said, “I have fallen for this church.” By the time they had finished laughing, he had regained his dignity, gained their attention, and began his sermon.
Proverbs 16:18 says, “Pride comes before destruction, and an arrogant spirit before a fall.” However, it also says, “Whoever humbles himself will be exalted” (Matthew 23:12), and “Though he falls, he will not be overwhelmed, because the Lord holds his hand” (Psalm 37:24).
So like my fellow preacher who so conspicuously fell, don’t think it can’t happen to you or me. But if does happen to one of us, let’s learn from that preacher. Even if you are lying flat on your face in front of thousands of people, if you will humble yourself, God stands ready to lift you up.
Top Ten Things NOT to Give for Mother’s Day
Copyright 2012 by Bob Rogers
Like many men, I am not a very good gift-giver. I wait until the last minute and run out to Wal-Mart. Or I get a gift that I think she wants, instead of what she really wants. When I was a young husband, I got my wife an iron for her birthday. It’s due to God’s grace and my wife’s patience that we’re still married. Some men reading this just asked, “What’s so bad about giving her an iron?” So for you guys who don’t know any better, here is a list of the Top Ten Things NOT to give your mother on Mother’s Day:
10. A plaque from Kroger that says “World’s Greatest Mom.”
9. A “God Loves Mothers” ballpoint pen that they give out at church on Mother’s Day.
8. A membership at the YMCA.
7. A toaster.
6. A mop and a broom.
5. Exercise equipment.
4. A new shotgun.
3. Ammunition for the new shotgun.
2. Taking her to a wrestling match.
1. An Extra Large white T-shirt from Wal-Mart that says “World’s Greatest Mom.”
Okay if these gifts are so bad, what are the Top Ten GOOD gifts for Mother’s Day?
Here are the Top Ten GOOD Gifts for Mother’s Day:
10. Flowers
9. A new Bible
8. A gift certificate for a manicure and pedicure.
7. Take her out to eat.
6. If you can’t see her on Mother’s Day, call her and talk to her a long time and let her know you love her.
5. Take her on a surprise trip to see her mother.
4. A handmade gift from her children.
3. Dress the kids, take them to get their picture, and then frame the photo and give it to Mom.
2. Have Dad and all the children go to church with Mom and sit with her in church.
1. Clean the house, have Dad and the kids cook at home, and let Mom relax with all the family there.
Doing church New York style
Copyright 2012 by Bob Rogers
Years ago when I lived in Mississippi, I visited the Empire State Building in New York City, and I heard a Southern accent from some young ladies. They asked me and my wife, “Are y’all from the South?” We said, “Yes, we’re from Mississippi,” and they said, “Well, we’re from Georgia, and it sounds so good to hear somebody from the South.”Actually, they didn’t say “Georgia,” they said “JAW-ja.” (And I didn’t say, “Mississippi,” I said “Miss-IP-y.”)
I was thinking, how would I feel if I was from New York and came to church down South? There are some great churches in New York; in fact, the Brooklyn Tabernacle is one of the greatest churches in America. But New Yorkers and Southerners have a different culture altogether. I wonder how we could make them feel at home? My sister lived in Manhattan for years, and now lives in Brooklyn. She says a “New York minute” actually lasts 19 seconds. I believe her. So read this rapidly, and maybe you’ll get some ideas for doing church “New York style.”
1. Everybody would have to line up outside the church, and when the doors opened, they would have to rush in as fast as they could and get a seat or find something to hold on to, because the ushers would shut the doors behind them in 10 seconds. Then the pastor would announce in garbled English, “The J-train is leaving the station now. Do not block the entrances!”
2. There would be different seating for Yankees and Mets fans, with armed uniformed policemen separating them.
3. Each member of the congregation would be given a headset so he or she could listen to the sermon in traditional or contemporary English, Spanish, Romanian, Korean, Vietnamese, Italian, Mandarin or Cantonese Chinese, Swahili or Yiddish. This would allow them to understand the service without having to actually talk to anybody else.
4. If somebody tried to sit in your pew, you would block his way and say, “Don’t play with me, man.”
5. The pastor would begin his sermon with, “Yo! Youse guys! I’m TALKIN’ to you!”
Our New York friends then could visit JAW-ja or Miss-IP-y or Luzy-anna and feel right at home. After all, didn’t the apostle Paul say, “I have become all things to all people, so that I may by all means save some”? (1 Corinthians 9:22, HCSB).
Getting the wrong buzz in worship
Copyright 2012 by Bob Rogers
At our church, we regularly remind people to turn off cell phones in worship. Nevertheless, cell phones can go off at the most inopportune times, even during funerals. Once, I was giving the invitation at the end of the service, when a cell phone rang. I asked the congregation, “Are we as quick to respond to God as we are to a cell phone?”
On one particular Sunday evening, a cell phone went off that I never expected. Normally, before the service begins, I take my cell phone off my belt, turn it off, and give it to my wife to put it in her purse. But for some reason, I forgot to do that. Thankfully, my phone is always set to vibrate, so it never rings. But in the middle of my sermon, I suddenly felt my left hip vibrate. I could hear the gentle “bzzz” sound. I tried to ignore it, but the “bzzz” continued. I often make a habit of walking among the congregation as I preach, and at that moment I was standing near the front pew, just inches away from some of the people, and I was sure they heard the “bzzz” too.
What should I do? I could continue to ignore it, but it was distracting me so much that I couldn’t concentrate on my sermon. So I stopped preaching, reached down, slipped the phone off my belt, and threw the phone down on the front pew, while saying, “My cell phone is going off.” After a few chuckles from the congregation, I went on and finished my sermon.
After the service, several people said, “We would never have known your cell phone was going off if you hadn’t said anything.” True. They didn’t know, but I knew, and I couldn’t think straight until I got rid of it.
What do you do when you get a sudden call during worship? Acts 2:38-39 says that the promise of forgiveness of sins is available “for all whom the Lord our God will call.” So if the call is from God, you’d better answer it. But if it’s a distraction from the devil, you’d better get rid of it. Wisdom is in recognizing whose ring tone you are receiving– or who is shaking your hip.
The tale of two church cats
Copyright 2012 by Bob Rogers
This is the story of two different cats that tried to get into two different churches in the dead of winter. The first cat was in south Georgia. The second cat was in North Carolina.
The Georgia pastor worried about the cat that he had often seen hanging around the church grounds. It was an unusually cold night from south Georgia, well below freezing, and the pastor feared that the cat might not survive. He went to the sanctuary to check on his feline friend, and sure enough, the cat was huddled next to the front door. The pastor cuddled the cat in his arms and took him inside the warmth of the worship center. Then he asked himself, “Now where do I take him?”
He could not think of a good place to put the cat, so he left the cat in a senior adult lady’s Sunday School classroom. The next day, when he went to check on the cat, the classroom was torn to pieces! Drapes and chair covers were ripped open by the cat’s claws.
The cat in North Carolina was a totally different story. He noticed a window slightly open to the boiler room of a church, so he climbed inside. Soon afterward, the custodian noticed the window ajar, and closed it. About a month later, the custodian noticed an awful smell coming from the boiler room, and when he went to check, he found the cat had died inside.
Both stories had a bad ending, but I smell a more important spiritual lesson in these stories. I wonder, what if the cats had been people? There are many desperate people, who need to come inside the church to experience the warm love of God’s people and the hope of faith in Jesus Christ. However, if we let them in, they will bring their problems with them, and they may make a mess. Would we rather they be shut out and just die?
Excuse me, I think I need to go crack open a window.
Valentine miscommunication
People think of love at Valentine’s. However, some of us fail to communicate.
A cake decorator in New Zealand was asked to include the reference to a Bible verse on the couple’s wedding cake. They requested 1 John 4:18 because it states, “There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear.” Unfortunately, the cake decorator wasn’t a Bible scholar so the cake ended up with a reference to John’s gospel instead of his epistle. In beautiful print was “John 4:18.” Had the decorator taken time to look up the verse this error would have been detected before the wedding. “You have had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband.”
I heard about a man who was feeling bad that he had not been romantic. So he decided to show up at his door with a coat and tie and give his wife flowers. He rang the doorbell, and when she answered, there he was in all his glory, as he handed her a dozen roses. To his surprise, she sat down in the doorway and just cried.
“What’s wrong, honey?” he asked.
She replied, “This has been a terrible day. Rachel came home from school sick, Daniel broke a window with his baseball, the microwave won’t work, and now you come home drunk!”
Even though our attempts are communicating love can sometimes be misunderstood, we should still make every effort to express our love. The Bible has an entire book, Song of Solomon, that is dedicated to the celebration of romance between a husband and wife. I know a fellow who often reads verses from the Song of Solomon to his wife. Not a bad idea. Just make sure that you read the right verse. Song of Solomon 4:9 would work: “You have captured my heart with one glance of your eyes.” But you don’t want to read to her from Song of Solomon 7:4: “Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon looking toward Damascus.”
So if you’re thinking about love this Valentine’s, make sure you say it clearly.
Mrs. Irby comes to the wrong church — or comes to the church wrong
Copyright 2012 by Bob Rogers
A Baptist pastor accepted the call to a church in Sledge, Mississippi. The day that he moved in, a 90-year-old woman drove up and greeted him in his driveway. “I’m Mrs. Irby,” she said. “I was a Presbyterian until my husband died, then I went back to the Methodist Church. But I don’t ever intend on coming to your church. I just came by to say welcome to the community.” With that, she drove off, spinning wheels and throwing dirt and rocks all over the new pastor.
So the pastor was surprised months later, when Mrs. Irby showed up one Sunday morning at the Baptist church. Early in the service, the pastor asked everybody to stand and greet one another. Mrs. Irby started to head out the door. The Baptists asked her where she was going, and she said, “In my church, when you stand, it’s time to go.” They helped her back to her pew to stay for the rest of the service. The pastor began to preach, and Mrs. Irby shouted loudly to the young lady beside her, “When is he ever gonna quit?” The congregation chuckled, and the pastor wrapped up his sermon quickly. Mrs. Irby stood to go. As she greeted the pastor at the door, she said, “The only reason I came here today is that the Methodists didn’t have church because their pipes busted. But I didn’t get a thing out of your sermon. Next time I’ll have to remember to bring my hearing aids.” And with that, she was out the door, never to return.
Which reminds me: you only get out of church what you put into it. The psalmist says, “Serve the Lord with gladness! Come into his presence with singing! Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise!” (Psalm 100:2, 4, ESV). Come to church with a prayer in your heart, a smile on your face, a Bible in your hand, and if you need them, glasses on your eyes and hearing aids in your ears, so that you don’t miss what God wants to say to you.
Divided vote eventually unites church
Copyright 2012 by Bob Rogers
I heard about a church that called a pastor with a vote of 200-3. The pastor spent his first six months trying to find out the names of the three who voted against him. Then he spent the next six months trying to please those three. At the end of the year, the church voted to fire the pastor. The vote was three to keep him, and 200 to get rid of him!
There’s an old saying that you can’t please everybody, and that is certainly true in church, which is why we need to try to please the Lord first. However, if the church is evenly divided, it is wise to back off a decision and seek to bring spiritual unity before proceeding, especially when voting on a pastor.
A pastor told me an interesting story about a close vote to call a pastor in a rural Baptist church near Claxton, Georgia. The church voted 51% in favor and 49% against calling a man as their pastor. Ignoring conventional wisdom, the preacher accepted the call, and came to the church as their pastor. After a couple of years, however, he resigned. Upon his resignation, he said, “I have unified the church. When I came, half of them were against me. Now all of them are against me.”
Elections can either unite people or divide people. Unfortunately, our country is pretty divided over politics. But as Christians, God calls us to be uniters, not dividers. In fact, however we voted, we are called upon to pray for those in leadership. Scripture says, “I urge, then, first of all, that requests, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for everyone– for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness” (1 Timothy 2:1-2, NIV). Someone might say, “Yeah, but our politicians are so bad these days.” I would remind that person that in New Testament days, the politicians threw the Christians to the lions, but the Christians still prayed for them.
We can do no less.
Bob Rogers 