The genesis of this revelation was in finally getting around to watching Haddon Robinson’s memorial service on YouTube. Robinson was a professor of homiletics at Gordon Conwell Theological Seminary. He authored a number of books, the most important among them Biblical Preaching. It is by far the most popular book in that crowded field and a volume that I have read at least three times since it first appeared in 1980. I heard Robinson lecture on preaching and even had the privilege of talking with him over lunch when he came to speak at Welch College a number of years ago.
As I watched the memorial service, I thought all of it was excellent, but I was particularly struck by the tribute Robinson’s daughter, Vickie, gave to her Dad. I had not heard the reason for Dr. Robinson’s death until she mentioned it. He had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s Plus, the broad name for a spectrum of diseases, one of which is Corticobasal Degeneration. As she described the loss of his voice, the frequent falls, and the persistent exhaustion I could readily identify. What are the odds that I would be dealing with some of the same issues as one of my homiletical heroes?
The most instructive part of that eulogy was when Vickie told of asking her dad if he was angry with God. She said that he seemed perplexed by the question and answered from his hospital bed, “Why would I be angry with God?” His focus was on the blessings that God had sent his way throughout his long life, not upon the way that life was ending. As I sat watching this, I found myself wiping away tears and realizing that Dr. Robinson’s approach to suffering was preaching a sermon to me. The big idea was that God’s blessings far outweigh the difficulties I am facing. That is a hard lesson to learn, but as I see it, the only alternative to gratitude is bitterness. What’s more, I know there are people watching to see how I handle all of this. I want to leave a testimony to the goodness of God and the work of His grace in my life.
Watching that memorial service was providential. It got me to thinking about other ways that God has blessed my life, in particular as it relates to preaching.
Recently, I was asked by my friend Wayne Bess to fill the pulpit of the Ashland City Free Will Baptist Church. This would be the first time for me to preach this year. I was more than willing to do it, but as the date drew closer it just seemed like events conspired to make it difficult. I had three falls in the weeks just prior to my preaching opportunity. The third of these falls seemed to just knock something out of me. I simply could not get up out of the floor, even with the help of my wife. One of our neighbors had to be recruited and through the effort of all three of us I finally got vertical. Once upright I found that my balance was even more compromised than it had been. I have had to replace my cane with a walker.
If that wasn’t bad enough I began to have more problems with my voice. One particularly distressing issue was what can only be described as “going nasal.” My speech therapist explained that this was due to the nasal cavity opening not closing properly and that this was another manifestation of CBD. If it happens when I am speaking for an extended time my voice becomes unintelligible. There are some techniques to get my throat to cooperate, but the only sure fire solution is to stop speaking for at least five minutes. I know some preachers use dramatic pauses to great effect, but were I to take such a break in the middle of a sermon it would probably lead the congregation to assume I was having a stroke! In the week leading up to my preaching opportunity I diligently did my vocal exercises, but I realized I might be delivering a shorter sermon than I intended. I prayed for God’s help and committed the results to Him. I did have one short “nasal episode” in the middle of my message, but it quickly disappeared and I was able to complete my message to a very receptive congregation. In my prayer just before the message I reminded the congregation, myself, and the Lord that the Word says, “My strength is made perfect in weakness.” I was certainly weak; it was time for God to show Himself strong… and I believe He did.
After the sermon I got a heavy dose of appreciation from the listeners, and I heard again something I had not heard before I was diagnosed with CBD and had to resign from the pastorate, “You are an inspiration!” I really hope that people don’t think of me that way but rather give thanks to the God who carried me through the message. That comes closer to the literal meaning of inspiration, the Spirit of God within a person. Along that same line a dear lady said to my wife, “I just love that man!” Who wouldn’t appreciate something like that? Still, it is the Master and not the servant who deserves the praise. I am just glad that God, in His providence, gave me a place to deliver the message. He knew I needed to deliver it even more than the church needed to hear it.
Finally, when it comes to my preaching and God’s providence, my mind goes back to 2014. That year our National Convention was held in Fort Worth, Texas, and I was invited to deliver the message on Sunday night. To say that this is a big deal for a run-of-the-mill pastor would be an understatement. As a young pastor I assumed that the committee that selected the speakers was always looking for the best they could find. However, attending enough of the conventions convinced me that was not always the case. As a middle-aged pastor, I began to think speaking at the National was a matter of denominational politics. I don’t doubt that considerations of region and differing viewpoints on issues of contention has had its impact, but I don’t think that is the bottom line either. No, it is far too simplistic to see a single reason for the decisions the selection committee has made through the years. As a retired pastor I now see speaking at the convention as a combination of various factors. In my case, it was due to at least three human factors and one beyond human knowledge.
First, a friend who has the ear of the Executive Secretary told me several times through the years that he had mentioned my name. In fact, the Executive Secretary told me so at least five years before I was selected. The second factor was having a personal friend on the committee who brought up my name in the process of selection. That introduces the third, and I believe decisive, factor. The selection committee tells the denomination, especially the pastors, that they would welcome input on the selection of speakers. You would think this invitation would result in a flood of letters and emails but it seldom does. It seems everyone wantsinput, but few take the time to exercise it. Unbeknownst to me, a friend had sent in a letter on my behalf. When my friend on the committee mentioned my name, the Executive Secretary produced copies of the letter for the other members with the comment this was the most reasoned letter for having a particular speaker that he had ever gotten! Needless to say, I was put on the list of people to speak at that year’s convention.
Those are the human factors in my selection, but I am convinced there was a superintending hand behind it all. 2014 would be the last National Convention where I would be healthy. I was suffering none of the effects of CBD and would be at the top of my form, such as that was, on that Sunday night in Fort Worth. My wife told me that it was not the best sermon she had ever heard me preach, but that she was proud of me. Her uncle, a great preacher who has spent his ministry as an evangelist, sent me an email that night having watched the service streamed on the internet. Among other things he said, “You did an outstanding job, and folks who know me know that I am not given to flattery.” I would get quite a few compliments the rest of the week. It was probably the high point of my preaching ministry. To borrow the words of an earlier generation of preachers, I delivered my soul.
God, in His providence, gave me that as the capstone of my preaching ministry. By the next year’s convention I would already have a preliminary diagnosis and be asking friends at the convention to please remember me in their prayers. 2015 would be the last convention I would attend.
As I said at the beginning, it is a rare thing to see the providential hand of God in your life. Watching that video of Haddon Robinson’s memorial service helped me to glimpse some of what God has done and is doing. It is a reminder that God has blessed me in the past and is blessing me in the present.
They say that the last mile of a marathon is the hardest. It won’t be easy to finish my course, but that is what all those earlier miles have been about. I don’t want to quit just short of the finish line.
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