Treasures New and Old

The teachers of the law spoke with dull words that usually failed to increase understanding and propagate faith. They spoke truth but their logical explanations did not invoke interest in the human heart or instigate passion in the human soul. But Jesus could stir a crowd with the power of a story. The words of Jesus did not enable His listeners to grasp the history of their traditions or the nuances of their theology. But they went home inspired. Jesus’s parables had one simple point. The listeners surely did not remember the details of each parable but what they did recall gave them great lessons to mull over and discuss. 

Jesus did not give deductive lectures that the crowds had to choose whether or not to be a part of. But in His parables Jesus presented inductive thoughts that encircled those who gathered to listen. When I read the parables of Jesus, I find myself in the middle of the story. I cannot just walk away from it but I must make a decision. I can either reject the truth being taught or I can ponder that truth and examine it. My examination of the truth portrayed in the parable may still not cause me to embrace it. But it forces me to make another decision. I must decide to journey with Jesus by following the lessons He taught or choose to walk another path.

In Matthew 13 Jesus told a series of parables that compared familiar activities and events to the kingdom of heaven.  Each parable taught a lesson about the value and the priority of the kingdom of heaven. When Jesus finished speaking, He asked the disciples “Have you understood all these things?”. Maybe Jesus grinned when they quickly answered “Yes”. Surely, they had not understood everything taught in those parables. None of us have. Jesus did not quibble with their answer but gave a one sentence reply “Therefore every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like a master of a house, who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old” (Matthew 13:52 ESV).

The scribes were the teachers of the law.  Humbly it occurs to me that I, a Baptist preacher, am a scribe who has been trained for the kingdom. God in His sovereignty called me and gave me some of “the secrets of the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 13:11 ESV). Jesus said a trained scribe was like master of a house. The master of a house was in charge of the welfare, the instruction, the mission, and the hospitality of the house. If one is a benevolent master of a house, he does not distribute junk to those who live in or who are guest in his household. But he reaches into his treasure and brings out the good stuff. The good stuff is that which we value and protect. It is that which we have discovered in the word of God and store deep within us. The good stuff, our treasures, are the basis of our convictions. We handle them carefully and display and dispense of them with prudence.

The scribe who is like the master of the house reaches deep into his treasure and brings out something new and something old. I ask myself “what can I retrieve from my treasure, both new and old, that will enhance the kingdom? How can I take the old truth and communicate it in fresh new ways”?

I recall days of yesteryear when I stood to preach with quivering knees and fluttering heart. It was not just nervousness but it was a Holy Spirit induced unction to accurately share what I had learned from God. I hope I can still pull from my treasure a passion for the word of God that translates into orations of substance that will move the listener or reader toward a greater commitment to the Lord. I trust that the words that flow from my soul enable people to have a wide peripheral kingdom vision. I pray that the criteria of the meditations of my heart are not based on biased earthly allegiances. The church is languishing because we have divided the kingdom with terms like left and right, white and black, contemporary and traditional. May God help us who are scribes trained for the kingdom of heaven to bring from our treasure ideas both new and old that will lead the church to a broader functionality.

Tiny Pulpits

A few months back I was rummaging through a closet at church and I discovered a tiny pulpit. It was amateurishly hand made from simple pine boards and plywood. My first thought was this is for a very short preacher. Or perhaps someone made it so children could play church. I was curious so measured it. It was 23 inches from the ground to the top lip. I discovered later that due to lack of Sunday School classroom space, someone, many years ago, had been forced to teach their class in the back corner of the sanctuary. So he made the short pulpit, placed it in the seat of probably the 4^th pew from the back of the church and used it as a lectern from which he taught his class who sat in the three back pews of the church.

My junk closet discovery is physically the tiniest pulpit I have ever seen. But I am afraid I have seen other pulpits that in reality are smaller than this one. In ministerial terms to say someone occupies a large pulpit means they preach from a place of prominence and great influence. It might mean they preach to a large church. In this sense the size of the pulpit defines the size of the pulpiteer. In a more fair world the pulpiteer would define the size of the pulpit but it does not always work that way.

In terms of what I have just described I have never occupied what I would call a large pulpit, though I have occupied some that were larger than the one I currently occupy. But I have tried to use the pulpit properly, though I am sure I have sometimes failed to do so. I have tried not to think about the size of the pulpit. Instead I have tried to focus on and judge myself as the pulpiteer. I may have a small pulpit but I do not want to be a small pulpiteer.

Ever since I found the tiny pulpit in the church junk closet I have been mulling over this thought. The question I keep asking myself is “what makes, or what determines, a tiny pulpit”? Or to ask it another way “what makes or determines a large pulpit”? I have thought of about 15 answers to that question and each answer has merit. I am not through exploring this question but here is my thought for today. The size of the pulpit is determined by the heart and soul and character of the pulpiteer who occupies the pulpit. If the pulpiteer does not believe in and have passion for the truth that he or she proclaims they are small pulpiteers and have made their pulpit small. And if they have no love in their hearts for the people they preach to then they are indeed little preachers occupying a tiny pulpit.

Preaching Shoes and Son Shoes

Today I preached my father’s funeral. I did it because he requested that I do so. But I did it at my own insistence. If the task had to be done then the task belonged to me. But in order to do this task I had to put on my preaching shoes. So I put on my preaching shoes and laced them up real tight. And for the past four days the responsibility of preaching my father’s funeral has consumed me. Today I delivered the thoughts that had been burning on my heart. I hope my words helped others. I found catharsis in the experience.

But now I have to take my preaching shoes off. I had them laced pretty tight. This afternoon I put on my son shoes. I drove around town and took a look at the various places we lived and the places we used to go. I drove back to the cemetery. I read my Dad’s name on the tombstone. I picked up a handful of the barren clay under which my father’s body is buried. I crumbled the clay in my hand until it soiled my fingers and palm. I am going to miss you Dad. I am going to miss you bad. Son shoes are a lot harder to wear than preaching shoes.