This story is entered at Tell Me a True story Blog Hop, and could be true. My continued story will follow shortly.
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Country Church
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While gazing at
the calendar it suddenly struck me I was almost thirty years old.
A year ago I had
been married to Sheila, a patient, under demanding, woman. She was primarily interested in
Horticultural. Her main interest was in
competing in Fairs and any show where there was competition and prizes.
As for me I had
spent almost ten years studying for the ministry and had gotten more degrees
than most professors in teaching facilities.
Me personally I
would have settled for a pastoral ministry degree but my sponsor, my uncle
insisted on several other disciplines and since he was giving what amounted to
a salary to me I acquiesced to his will.
Finally I said no
more studies; I’m ready for a ministry of some kind.
Because of my
heavy scholastic load I seldom attended church, but I had what I thought was a
thorough understanding of what was the aim and goals of the church.
The denomination
I belong to was where I expected to work and so I applied for a position in one
of the largest churches that I thought would benefit from my vast knowledge of
theology and psychology.
After some time I
decided to contact the head of the denomination and asked why the delay for my
appointment. His answer we are waiting
for something to open up that somewhat meets your qualifications but so far
there is nothing available.
He said he hated
to use a worn out phrase but I was overqualified for a pastoral ministry. This totally deflated me. All I ever wanted was to be of help to people
spiritually and now I find I have too much baggage in the form of education.
After spending
some time with him and explaining what my desire was he said he would get back
to me but not to get too much hope up, because they were lined up wanting a
church to pastor.
I returned home
and a month later he called me back and said there was nothing so far.
He said I was
qualified for several secular positions and could go to work immediately in one
of those fields at a good salary. I told
him I still felt called to a pastoral ministry.
I could hear him
shuffling some papers and he came back on the line and he said there is a small
and by small I mean very small country church that no one will take due to
several factors. The main one being the
nature of the people. Their complaints
have run all of the past ministers out of the church.
While this may
sound strange the constant criticism drives them to distraction and they leave
with our permission.
Optimistically I
thought, “How bad can it be?” so I said, “I will take it.”
I thought my
psychology training would see me through.
Two weeks later
we showed up at the church and met with the board and got into what they called
a parsonage. There was to be a pot-luck Sunday
after church where I could get acquainted with everyone.
After going
through the formal part of the services I proceeded to preach a short sermon
and I observed that people were gazing out the windows or fidgeting with
something like going through a purse or wallet and taking things out that they
didn’t need anymore.
This lack of
attention to what I was preaching caused me some concern. Immediately I thought,
“How rude. Here I’m giving them words
that could help them and they don’t hear my message.”
I must admit I
was some what disappointed but acted as if everything was wonderful.
Sad to say, I
ended up not getting any encouragement because of people telling me what I
should have included in the service.
While I stood
there with my plate full of food I tried to explain if I added all of their
suggestions we would have been there all night.
This didn’t faze them for they kept on talking.
I saw that some
people were getting ready to leave so I put my plate down and went to greet the
people as they left. Many of them said
they didn’t attend there and wouldn’t be back but felt they should be polite
and welcome me to the community and don’t forget to come and patronize their
store.
After most had
left I saw my plate of food had been thrown in the garbage and my plate
washed. All the leftover food had gone
home with the people and there was nothing else to do but leave also because
the janitor was waiting to lock up.
As we walked to
the parsonage I asked my wife what she thought and she said well the food was
good and filling; but I didn’t care for the flower display for some of the tips
of the petals were beginning to show decay.
Must admit I had
a thought come to mind and that was the church was misnamed. Instead of wildwood church it should have
been “The church of Godly Criticism.” I
quickly squelched that line of thinking and began to try to remember if there
was anything to eat in the refrigerator.
The next day
Shelia went to the town nursery and to see what kind of plants they
carried. She hit it right off with the
owners for she criticized about everything in the place. I went and introduced myself to all the
merchants and invited them to the services.
They were pretty open with their remarks like, “I’m already depressed so
why should I add another layer of misery on top of it.”
I just smiled and
said I will be telling some good jokes you might enjoy so consider it. After a month the congregation had dwindled
down to the core group. The curious ones
had seen all they wanted to see and didn’t come back. In each service there was a saintly looking
man who always arrived late and sat on the back row. He would leave before I could get to the door
and greet him. It was almost as if he
disappeared.
Then one day I
was at the church when he came in and introduced himself. He said I’m the
Reverend Mike Nelson, but you can call me Mike and forget the Reverend part for
I have retired. He asked me how things
were going.
I was tempted to
lay out all the problems but restrained myself from doing so and said, “There
are a few problems I am dealing with.”
He said, “That is
understandable for you are working with people.” For some reason I felt a small wave of
desperation roll over me and asked if he had any suggestions to increase
interest in the church.
“No not really,”
he said, “Except for a couple of things.
One you need to find out where their interest lay and then work from there.
It has taken them
a long time to become who they are and the other is found in the scripture. There are terms you are familiar with and are
found in Romans and elsewhere that have to be given first place in your life. Not only when you are in the pulpit but
always.
Do you remember
words like “Be led by the Spirit” and “Walk in the Spirit” and again “Those who
are controlled by the Holy Spirit think about things that please the Spirit.” Another, “For his Spirit joins with our spirit
to affirm that we are God’s children.”
We see it is by
the nature of things we must yield to God’s Spirit to function
spiritually. I suggest you search the
scriptures and learn from them concerning the work of the Spirit in you. Then and only then can you be led by the
Spirit.
Without this all
you are doing is depending upon your secular training and that will produce
secular results.”
I told him he had
given me a lot to think about and I would seek out the scriptures pertaining to
the things of the Spirit.
He said, “If you
want the Spirit to change your people, He must first be allowed to change you
and then He can work through you to change others.”
He said, “I must
go for I’m late for another appointment.”
I began in
earnest to follow what the old pastor had told me and without embellishing anything
I must tell you it worked just as he told me.
One night my
unassuming wife asked me how I made the great change in the congregation that
had grown to a full house. I told her; “Do
you remember the little old man who came in late and sat in the rear and left as
soon as the service was over?”
She said, “I
always sit it the very back and pass out the bulletin and greet everyone who
comes in and there was never a man as you described, especially when we only
had twenty people.”
I argued with
her, “He sat in the very seat on the back row and all the way to the left.”
She said, “That
seat was broken and couldn’t be sat in until last week when I had it fixed and
besides I have sat few feet from it every since we have been here and there was
no old man who ever sat there.”
I didn’t dare
tell my wife and I didn’t want to admit it but there was no other explanation!
I had been
honored with a visitation from an angel or by some other Heaven sent being as I
cried out from deep within my spirit in my hour of need.
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