The Pain Of A Pulpit


By Phil Scovell






     I was the assistant pastor.  It was a small church of about
60 people in western Colorado.  I had met the pastor a few months
earlier at a youth camp where I had been the guest speaker.
Although we had never met, we became close friends almost
immediately.

     My wife and I had been discussing leaving Denver for a
smaller community.  Since I was traveling as a guest speaker,
mostly in the Midwest and on the west coast, it was important I
be close to an airport as a matter of convenience.  Once I
expressed my feelings concerning moving into a smaller community
to this pastor, he immediately began trying to get me to move to
his town.  When I learned the town was only 800 people in
population, I really wasn't interested.  Since I had never lived
in a small town, it seemed way too small for me.  Yet, throughout
the week, we continued to discuss the possibility.  I was still
skeptical but the pastor had solutions for every objection I
presented.

     One day, he invited me to ride with him to his home.  The
youth camp we were in was only about a 30 minute drive from his
home so I went.  I got to meet his wife and he then suggested we
go over to his little church.  He said it was to check the mail
but I think he wanted me to get a feel for the place.  It all felt
good to me, too.  During the week of youth camp, the pastor
invited me for a week of revival meetings about 8 months away.

     After preaching for much of the month of April in California,
my wife and I started our flight back home to Denver.  On the way,
we stopped in western Colorado where we were to conduct the week
of revival meetings scheduled with this same pastor.  It took
only hours to fall in love with the people in this small church
and small town.

     During the week, the pastor began discussing the idea of
moving to that town and becoming his assistant pastor.  He said
the church would pay me a little each month but I would be free to
continue traveling and preaching in other churches as much as I
wished.  He assured me I would have no problems getting to either
of the two airports, one 40 miles away and the other 60 miles
distant, because people in the church went to these towns nearly
every day.  I could easily fly from there to Denver and make
connecting flights.  The idea sounded better the more we discussed
the possibilities.

     The pastor told me that they had a man who was a member of
there church who also was in real estate and he suggested we check
out a few houses in the community.  We did.  A contractor in the
church offered us a brand new house he had built 6 months earlier
which he needed to unload since the building loan was coming due.
He offered to sell it at cost.  I needed, at that time, a 3,000
dollar down payment.  My mother-in-law offered to give us the down
payment.  I put 500 dollars down on the house and within weeks,
the bank approved our loan and we moved into our new house in
western Colorado.

     Although we did not stay more than 18 months in this small
western town, I learned more during that time from this pastor
than through any other church experience in my life.  He allowed
me to become the youth pastor, something I had never even dreamed
of trying, he taught me how to lead the music, he allowed me to
organize all the services, and he asked me to handled the weekly
nursing home ministry.

     As the months rolled by, I learned just how much God's Word
meant to this pastor and how much he loved people.  He led people
to Christ more than anyone I personally knew.  He discipled those
he led to Christ, and he cared for them deeply, including their
families, as he pastored his flock of 60 people.  He became my
best friend.  I spent more hours with this man than any other man
I ever knew and though I never told him, he has since gone home to
be with the Lord, he became my hero in the ministry.  No one ever
encouraged me as much as he did.  Now for the funny part of the
story.

     This little church where I was privileged to serve as the
assistant pastor, as I mentioned, had about 60 people who attended
the services.  It was an old building and I believe was
constructed in 1890.  As I said, the pastor allowed me to do
about anything I wanted to try so little by little, I worked my
way into various areas of ministry within the church.  We even had
a Christian school with about 30 students.

     One Sunday morning, the pastor and I were seated on the
platform.  We sat on a small bench, or pew, which could hold only
two people.  The pulpit, fortunately for me, was immediately in
front of us, about three feet away, so I never had any trouble
finding it when I led singing or did announcements.

     One Sunday morning, as the piano was being played during the
offering, the pastor leaned over and said, "When you get up after
the offering to lead us in the last song, be sure and mention that
Karen is going to sing a solo before I preach."  I said I would.
He said, "Don't forget."  I said that I wouldn't.

     When the piano notes died away, I stood and stepped to the
pulpit and we sang another hymn.  Forgetting to announce that
Karen was going to sing, I sat back down.  The split second I sat
down, I remembered.  I leaped to my feet and stepped to the
pulpit.  You guessed it.  The pastor was already there but had not
had the time to open his mouth yet so I didn't realize he was
there.  I slammed into the back of him with such force, it is a
miracle I didn't knock him and the pulpit right off the platform.
How embarrassing!  Everybody laughed, including me, and craning
my head around the pastor's right shoulder, I announced, a little
too loudly, Karen was coming to sing and sat back down.  I'm sure
I had a red face.  It wasn't any big deal, and as easy going as
the pastor was, it didn't even phase him.  I never forgot it,
however, but until recently, I never realized the pain that was
hidden in that embarrassing experience.

     Since two other embarrassing memories had recently come to
mind, which the Lord administered renewing, I wondered about this
memory.  Besides, every time this embarrassing experience came to
mind, I grimaced inwardly.  I tried laughing it off, but since the
memory itself continually returned, I finally stopped and asked
the Lord if something was wrong.

     Of course, I recognized the humor.  It was funny, after all,
but there was something else I kept overlooking; I was blind.
When the memory reversed, that is, when the Holy Spirit allowed me
to see the memory from the vantage point of the audience, I saw
the blind person poking his head out and around from the right
side of the pastor standing at the pulpit.  He, the blind person,
was making a joke of the whole thing, as if things like this
happened every day to him, but realizing the blind person, who was
me, of course, felt horribly blind.

     I had never seen this memory from the front but when I did
this time, I ask the Lord what I needed to know because I simply
did not understand what I was seeing or feeling.  To me, it was
just another blind experience so how could anything be wrong.
When I asked the Lord to show me His truth, I suddenly saw Jesus
standing off to the right on the platform about ten feet away.  I
smiled.  No words were spoken but I knew what this meant; Jesus
was there and He wasn't going to allow my blindness to hurt me
even in this embarrassing moment.  Now, whenever this memory
appears, guess what I see?  That's right.  I see the memory always
from the front and I immediately see Jesus standing over to one
side.

     The word "renew," or "renewing of the mind," in the New
Testament means to rebuild or to remodel.  Look it up for yourself
if you doubt it.  In this embarrassing memory, a blind man
suddenly ran right into his own blindness.  No, the blindness
wasn't embarrassing but hidden in the back of my mind was the idea
that this would have never happened if I wasn't blind.  So what
did Jesus do?  He appeared.  I don't often see Jesus in any of my
memories.  In this case, He said nothing but showed up to let me
know that He was the Lord of even this embarrassing blind
experience.  Did you hear it?  He is Lord.

     This type of embarrassing moment has happened three times to
me now and in all three cases, I was blind but never recognized
the woundedness I felt until Jesus showed up and took the pain
away.  So, once I was blind but now I see because I see what
Jesus saw.  Thus, it can't hurt me any more.

     Where does Jesus stand in your life today?  Is he Lord or is
the pain still there where He wants to stand?  Yes, I know it
isn't always easy to recognize the truth for what it is.  If I can
help, let me know and we'll pray and find out what is blocking you
from the truth that Jesus is Lord of everything.  Let's see
together what Jesus wants you to see.

It Sounds Like God To Me.
www.SafePlaceFellowship.com