Boy Preacher
My senior year at Harding, I was unleashed on two unsuspecting congregations: one in Alread (go to Clinton and then west on hwy 16 through beautiful Ozark hills), and then one in Sheridan.
Here’s what I remember about that year of preaching:
1. I’m glad no one was taping sermons then. I’m especially thankful there are no surviving MP3s for a podcast. (Note to anyone in Alread and Sheridan: if there are any surviving reel-to-reel copies, I’d be willing to buy them in order to destroy them.)
2. I loved the drive time. A beautiful blonde was sitting by my side every mile of the way.
3. Even if I didn’t feed the congregation well, they certainly fed us well! It was a nice break from the regular fare of Pattie Cobb cafeteria on the Harding campus. (Does anyone else remember eating there?) We’re talking home-grown vegies and large quantities of beef.
4. There was great joy in standing before the church speaking about things that matter. My life hadn’t caught up to the things I spoke about — it hasn’t yet! — and yet there was electricity in speaking words of faith and hope.
5. This tiny church (Alread) and small church (Sheridan) launched me with encouragement and compassion. How many churches are there out there — within driving distance of Abilene, Searcy, Oklahoma City, Lubbock, Henderson, Nashville, Malibu, etc.– that have graciously listened to people who knew way more about Greek and Hebrew than they yet knew about life? Blessed are the encouragers of the world.
I have enjoyed reading the comments about Rubel Shelly. Amy he is continuing to have a strong impact on young and old alike. His classes at Rochester College are filled with students who are blessed to learn about ministry from a man who is so passionate about pastoral ministry and service.
I was at Freed-Hardeman in the early to mid 80′s after Rubel left, but he was still kind enough to come back and stir things up from time to time!
As a result, he had a profound developmental impact on me and many of my friends, including my wife. Click here to read a post I wrote a couple of years back about one particular event of the “Rubellion.”
And I will always thank God for the Church of Christ in my hometown of Opp, Alabama. I can’t imagine who’d I be today without them.
Pattie Cobb – yes, I remember. Peanut butter and honey sandwiches on Sunday night after church. And green beans. Lots of green beans. (Not with the pb & h sandwiches, thankfully, but with pretty much everything else.) It was years before I could face eating another one.
Your comment: “How many churches are there out there…that have graciously listened to people who knew way more about Greek and Hebrew than they yet knew about life?” What’s amazing (and terrible) to me is that so many preachers who are WAY past their youthful days of being “preacher-boys” still know more about Hebrew & Greek than they do about life. What have they been doing all these years? Have they ever ventured beyond the church office? Sometimes I am so hungry for God I don’t know what to do. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard anything at church that connected to real life. I wish preachers were required to take sabbaticals – not to go study somewhere, but to get the kind of job the rest of us have. Maybe then they would have something to say to us. As it is, they don’t have a lot of credibility with regular people. I’m not trying to be unkind. Most preachers I’ve known are good people, kind, stable, moral, polite, responsible, disciplined, etc. But there’s a disconnect between what I hear at church and what I deal with every day in my life, in my work, in my relationships. I need to hear about how to see my life through the eyes of Jesus.
CLARIFICATION FOR CHRIS, WITH CORRIGENDA ON THREE MESSAGES
In my 10:16 PM post yestreen, I meant that we’re not all “liberals,” a word Chris had used in a 10:05 PM post. Even though I’ve moved into town and continue to learn on the journey of life, I still favor truth upheld and error exposed. See, e.g., my feeble attempts at preachermike.com postings on March 17 and April 12, 2006.
So I am no more “liberal” than Chris is “Hillary.” The inspiration for that apparently unintelligible statement was Chris’ 10:05 PM admission of being from “Clinton, Ark.”
But, to set aside comments on producing “Searcy beer” and “saying grace,” let us in all solemnity observe that “near the foothills of the Ozarks, amid the hill and plain,” the Pattie Cobb Dining Hall is forever enshrined in our memory as “THE COBB.” Yes, yes, and as such the corn continues to be served, even on this blog. So
“Sing the chorus, shout it loudly, echoing through the vale.
Hail to thee, beloved Haaaaardiiiiiing! Alma Mater Hail!”
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Chris on January 25 at 10:05 PM: I am surprised but pleased that all the liberal bloggers have nothing but kind words for these small conservative churches. I am originally from the Clinton, Ark., area.
David Ramsey (c’est moi, Dudes) at 10:16 PM: If we’re all “liberal” bloggers, then you must be Hillary.
Chris at 11:57 PM: I don’t understand that comment, David, but I almost fell out of my seat laughing at your 6:36 post.
Peanut butter and honey sandwitches? I always wondered what that was. Don’t forget the candy bar on Sunday night.
Theresa, you must have been at Freed at the same time I was. I attended 1973 to 1977.
Peace.
Green Beans with every meal…But you could sit and drink coffee and talk
forever ….the first starbucks…that Pattie Cobb….Harding 1973…..
amen, mike..”blessed are the encouragers of the world”..sometimes they are the unsuspecting and that’s what makes them so precious..
Well, one more time…”a blog within a blog”…
ZZPuck, yes Earl Ray is my cousin. I do know your mom, aunts and uncles.
I spoke at the Burns Family Reunion at Maud in 2000, 01, and 02.
Oh, those gracious souls at the Griffithville Church of Christ! Steve Meeks and preached there during our Harding Days. Mike – you’re lucky, because some of my sermons were recorded! Thanks for bringing back good memories of those saints. I hope that our congregations are training grounds for young men and women as they grow toward what they will be!
I, too, was blessed to be nurtured as a young pastor by a small loving church. My first pastorate is where I am still at, nearly twenty-two years later. They loved me through my ego of the first couple of years, through my cynism, next couple of years, and into semi-maturity. They love me in spite of my flaws.
In addition, let’s not forget the older preachers. Those men who retired from active pastorates, but still make themselves available to preach the word. My dad is in Fort Cobb, Oklahoma, and for years traveled to preach and serve at Scott Baptist, in Hinton, Oklahoma. This was about a 90 minute drive in the morning, eat and rest in the afternoon, and then the return home. Now, he is a member at the Baptist church in Anadarko and preaches whenever and wherever he is invited to do so.
David Wilson
abimilech@ca.rr.com