THIRTY-FIVE YEARS AGO PART II
When I first came to the Shelbyville Road congregation thirty-five years ago brother Totty was still living, and came to the office every day. The church had built him another office, and I was given his former office. I think the first Sunday I came, he showed me his office which would become mine. The church made another office for him. The church here was so good to him in his retirement years.
Many of the gospel meetings I have preached were when my boys were growing up. The only thing that kept me away from my family was gospel meetings and lectureships. Otherwise, I would have preferred to have been home and to have preached at Shelbyville Road. For years I would brag to individuals privately that nowhere was my preaching appreciated more, it seemed, than at Shelbyville Road. I have been invited to go to India and Africa to teach in schools, and though I would enjoy the opportunities, my duties as one of two elders here has kept me from traveling to foreign soil.
Since being at the Shelbyville Road congregation, I have conducted 42 weddings. The first wedding I did was in Auburn, Indiana. The assembly stood through the long, tedious ceremony of seven minutes. I had failed to invite the audience to be seated. One wedding was done in the dark. Right before the ceremony the electricity went out. I asked the bride, Susan Bean, if she wanted to wait until the lights came back on. She told me no. She had waited long enough to get married and did not want to put it off any longer. Her future husband, Jon Cagle was all for getting through with the ceremony as well. I used a flashlight to read my words; Nadene sang from memory the wedding march, and the knot was tied.
One day a young lady called me and asked if I would perform her wedding ceremony. I ask her the usual questions to see if she and her fiancée had a scriptural right to marry. They did. So, I pulled out my calendar, and asked when they wanted to get married. She told me that they wanted to get married that day; so, I told them to come on. We filled out the license, I said the words, and they took off. However, I had forgotten to get them to sign the license! So, I looked at the address that was given, and it was a trailer park in Whiteland, Indiana. So, I took off to the trailer, knocked on their door, and fortunately, they were there. So, I asked them to sign their license, and I left.
To date, I have preached 142 funerals. They are always tough, but they are opportunities to try to comfort and teach the truth. Now days, people do not want funeral sermons. They just want eulogies. They do not want to think about their appointment with death, yet Solomon said, “It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting: for that is the end of all men; and the living will lay it to heart” (Ecc. 7:2). I have been involved in some very difficult funerals. It is never easy. I have preached the funerals of infants and the aged. I have seen people react differently at funerals. I have seen individuals almost try to crawl into the casket with the deceased. I remember one lady who stood at the casket and stomped her feet and clenched her fists. She was so angry at God because the person had died.
My first funeral, which was before I came to Shelbyville Road, was in Auburn, Indiana. I had always hoped that my first one would be of an elderly brother or sister who had been faithful to the Lord for many years. However, that was not the case. The first funeral I did, the young woman was about 26 years of age, and an unfaithful member of the church. She had been to a discotheque (dance hall) on a Wednesday night. Her little boy was with a babysitter, I think. She was abducted and found ten days later in a river in Fort Wayne, having been shot in the head. The media covered the death and the funeral. Her mother was a faithful member of the church.
When my friend and brother in Christ, Joseph Cox of Louisville, KY, died, one of his sons, Merrill, asked three preachers to have a part in the funeral: brother Vernon Harris, brother Warren Rainwater and me. The interesting thing about the request is that brother Merrill limited us to ten minutes, not ten minutes for each of us, but ten minutes total! He wanted Harris, who had been the local preacher at Auburndale following brother Cox, to speak three minutes; Merrill told me to speak three minutes, and since Rainwater had known Cox the longest, he gave him four minutes! It was not a miracle, but all three preachers stuck to his time limit. I have preached or had a part in the funerals of my Grannie, my mother, my dad, my mother-in-law, and my father-in-law. I could not bring myself to speak at my brother’s. It was too much of a blow.
God has blessed me to be able to preach for so many years. The brethren have been good and patient with me as well. I have tried to hue the line. I have made mistakes in preaching and writing. I have repented and confessed openly of my errors. I hope with kindness brethren will blow away the chaff and hold on to that which I have taught that is good and true. I am thankful for friends, near and far who have encouraged me at times when I was down. But I am especially thankful for my dear Lois, kind and gentle, who has always been supportive of my efforts for good. May God continue to bless us all as we strive to make heaven our home. BFV
THE INFORMER
February 8, 2015
VOL. 68 NO.16