|
The greatness of small things
By Keith Bassham, Assistant Editor
The Baptist Preacher Baptist Bible Tribune
Earlier this month, two deaths affected me greatly. First, there was Rosie, a lady in my church. She had required emergency surgery for an aneurysm one Sunday morning. Unfortunately, she did not recover, and with family and friends at her bedside, we sang and worshiped as her earthly life-signs dwindled two evenings later. She left this life much as she lived quietly.
Our church is a small one out in the country, and in a church like ours, even a small and quiet woman can make a difference. Thats the dynamic of a rural church. Even our conflicts are small by city standards. Right now were trying to work through a dress-code issue. The question is, what is the appropriate dress for men at church, Key overalls or Big Smiths?
But I am reminded of the Scriptures that speak of God communicating in a still, small voice, and the exhortation not to despise the day of small things. Seemingly small moves, inconsequential conversations, insignificant actions all have a way of leading to larger consequences.
Which brings me to the second death I noted in January, that of W. A. Criswell, the Southern Baptist pastor of Dallas, Texas. In my life, there has always been a Criswell. I remember reading Why I Preach the Bible is Literally True not long after I was saved. When I pastored in the Dallas area just after graduating from BBC, I listened to Criswells radio broadcast as often as I could on Sunday evenings. I marveled as I heard that distinctive voice sounding out biblical exposition Sunday after Sunday, his great mind fluidly and faultlessly and precisely feeding words to his mouth without the aid of notes of any kind. His sermons (he was a through the Bible preacher) often became commentaries, most notably on the books of Daniel and the Revelation.
In 1990, when he had just passed the age of 80, Criswell wrote his autobiography, Standing on the Promises. His early life is a testament to my earlier statements regarding significance.
Criswell was raised not too far from where I spent most of my boyhood, near Texline, Texas, in the far corner of the Panhandle. When Criswell was 10 years old, the Texline church his family attended held a revival meeting with the Dalhart pastor Johnny Hicks. Hicks stayed in the Criswell home where he came to know the young preacher-to-be. During one morning service that week (they had services both day and night), his mother turned to him and asked, W. A., will you give your heart to Jesus today? W. A. said yes, and he walked to the front of the tiny church auditorium where Pastor/Evangelist Hicks met him and led him to Christ.
A relatively insignificant event by human standards. A little boy was saved in a revival meeting. Happens thousands of times a year. Only this time the little boy was W. A. Criswell, whose conversion and subsequent call were the first steps in a life of significant ministry.
But now, as Mr. Harvey might say, for the rest of the story.
Years later, Criswell was conversing with a friend, a fellow pastor in Dallas. He told of his childhood conversion during a Johnny Hicks revival meeting.
Johnny Hicks? The pastor from up in the Texas Panhandle? his friend asked.
Criswell went on to tell the story of how Hicks stayed in his home and enjoyed his mothers cooking, and his interest in the lad, and how Criswell went forward and was met by the evangelist at the pulpit.
Criswells friend shook his head sadly. Johnny Hicks. Just a few years ago I visited my friend Johnny Hicks at Baylor Hospital here in Dallas. He was dying. And on his deathbed he said, I havent done anything for Jesus. Isnt that something? The dear old man died thinking he had failed.
Years later, in 1937, when Criswell was about to graduate from seminary, he was attending a preachers meeting. The meeting planners were stuck. One of their speakers didnt show. They asked the seminarian if he could perhaps share whatevers on his heart. Feeling a little wobbly by his own admission, he agreed to speak. John L. Hill, CEO of Broadman Press was in the group who heard him that day.
Fast forward now to 1944. Criswell was a pastor in Muskogee, Oklahoma, and George Truett had died, leaving a void at First Baptist in Dallas. The search committee turned to John L. Hill for advice on a successor. Hills response was immediate.
There is only one man for you to consider W. A. Criswell.
No one on the search committee had even heard of the Muskogee pastor, and they tossed out Hills recommendation. Later, they consulted him again. His reply was the same. There is only one man for you to consider.
And the rest is well-known in Baptist annals.
Now, regardless of your feelings for Southern Baptists in general, or W. A. Criswell in particular, you must agree that great doors have swung on seemingly insignificant hinges. And whether you can identify more with the quiet and unassuming Rosie filling her spot in a rural church, or the faithful yet forgetful preacher Hicks, who was busy about the Masters business, or the nervous, lump-throated Criswell who responded with an impromptu sermon when called upon, Jesus said, For he that is least among you all, the same shall be great (Luke 9:48).
Sailors, pilots, and anyone else who depends upon measurements, know that even a small degree of deviation soon mounts up to great changes in course. I like to think that W. A. Criswell, Johnny Hicks, and maybe even Rosie, might get around to finding one another in heaven sometime and talk about the great difference the little things can make.
Quotations taken from W. A. Criswell, Standing on the Promises of God, Word Publishing 1990.
|
