They Never Stopped Teaching Me

By C. Robert Wetzel

Do not neglect your gift, which was given you through a prophetic message when the body of elders laid their hands on you (1 Timothy 4:14).

It has been more than 50 years ago since elders laid hands on three of us at the First Christian Church in Hugoton, Kansas. We were reminded at the time, and many times since, not to neglect our gifts.

In 1 Timothy 4:14, the apostle Paul seems to be talking about some special gift that was given or revealed to this young preacher when the elders of his church laid their hands on him. In our case, I suppose it was something simpler: The elders had seen us grow up in the church, go off to Bible college, and actually begin ministry to congregations. They must have believed we had gifts for ministry and affirmed their confidence in these gifts in the act of ordination.

The inspiration upon which we seemed to feed at the time was the powerful preaching and deep spirituality of our preacher, Lloyd Robbins. And yet time and time again, the elders of the church were there teaching, instructing, and encouraging, often in ways not immediately apparent.

ENCOURAGEMENT

There was the example of Danny Thompson, whose life and sensitivity made him someone to whom you listened.

Then there was the time my wife and I thought we would have to drop out of Bible college because of finances. Before a meal we prayed that if God wanted us to continue, would he please provide the way. At the close of the prayer we had a phone call informing us that Ralph Campbell, another elder in the Hugoton church, had asked, “How much do they need?” A coincidence? Hardly! Rather it was one more evidence of how God can affirm one”s calling through the eldership of the church.

Then there was the time the elders must have heard of our discouragement during an early ministry. Elder Mark Renfro drove 180 miles to encourage us by affirming their confidence in our gifts for ministry.

I have mentioned three elders of the Hugoton church. I could tell similar stories of others there. But at the time, even though I saw and was grateful for the individual kindnesses, it took me a while to see what I was experiencing: the corporate pastoral care of the eldership of the church in which I grew up. These elders never stopped teaching me.

TENSION

There can be a certain tension in our understanding of the church”s eldership. On the one hand there is the ideal of what we understand to be the biblical view of the eldership as a corporate group of shepherd-overseers caring for and teaching the congregation. On the other hand, ministers can find themselves in an adversarial relationship with the elders of the churches they serve.

I remember this tension being discussed when I was a young man. Perhaps it was only what I heard and not what was being taught, but I remember hearing about this in the ministerial practices courses in which I was enrolled. And preachers talked about it too.

It was as though we young preachers had to “learn to deal with the elders,” and at times, “dealing with the elders” sounded like manipulation. (“If you have a good idea, plant it in such a way that the elders will think it was their idea.”)

I remember how we all laughed in chapel when we were told of the farmer-preacher accustomed to the difficulty of plowing the rocky ground of his Arkansas farm. He was not getting along with the elders of the church and thus he prayed, “Lord, if you will just remove the rocks, I will plow the ground.” And within two weeks he had buried three of his elders.

In retrospect, I wish I had heard more stories that reflected the beautiful passage in Acts 20 when the elders of the church in Ephesus met Paul in Miletus. He was on his way to an uncertain fate in Jerusalem, but he encouraged them to be good “shepherds of the church of God” (v. 28). They knelt and prayed, and then, “They all wept as they embraced him and kissed him” (v. 37).

FAITH

Thankfully, I was to be taught by so many elders who enabled me to move beyond the adversarial model. Charlie Axtell was one such teacher. He had one of those red clay, hilltop farms in central Oklahoma where he tried to eke out a living for his large family. In fact, about the only thing he successfully grew on that farm was children.

One summer the rains did not come, and it was intensely hot and humid, so hot that Charlie”s hogs simply suffocated to death. His milk cows were trying to survive on the brown pastures, and there was no prospect of his crops producing.

As the 19-year-old minister of the church, I was concerned about how Charlie”s faith would handle this adversity. Ironically this was the same time my wife and I thought we might have to leave school because we did not have tuition money for the coming semester. When I talked with Charlie, he simply quoted Psalm 37:25: “I was young and now I am old, yet I have never seen the righteous forsaken or their children begging bread.”

Suddenly the irony of the situation hit me. I was worried about coming up with $250 for tuition, while this man had the responsibility of feeding his family as he watched his farm fail. And I was talking to him about faith?!

Thank you, Charlie, for what you taught me about faith. Charlie has long since passed on to his heavenly reward, but I am still trying to learn the full dimension of what he taught me.

HUMILITY

Then there was Bob Vavricka. He was the son of Czech immigrants to Northwest Kansas. He once told me of his difficulty as a child in school being ridiculed because of his difficulty with English. Although small in stature, he was a giant in what he had to teach me. I would discover that as we continued to serve together.

At some point before my coming to serve his church he saw the need for a young adult class in the Sunday school. So he started one, and before long it was a going concern. But you might say that Bob was a victim of his own success. The class grew and was reaching young adults who had not previously been associated with the Christian church.

The only problem was that Bob was not the best speaker. In fact, he often spoke in a mumble, something the original members of the class accepted because they knew and loved him. But guests wondered why the class had an inarticulate teacher.

One day the president of the class came to me to ask my help in “letting Bob down.” In the hope of being able to hold on to the new people who were coming to the class, they were going to ask Bob to let someone else be the teacher.

I knew this would be a blow to him, and thus shortly after the president talked with him, I went to him prepared for the worst. Bob completely disarmed me with his response. He said, “There is so much to do in the kingdom of God. There will be plenty of opportunities for me to serve.”

Yes, there was disappointment, but absolutely no bitterness. Within weeks he and his wife, Cora, started “Kids Canteen,” a Saturday evening gathering at the church building for the children of the community. It was a success from day one.

Of course I was impressed with Bob”s humility and sense of service at the time. But it was years later when something similar happened to me that I realized I had seen only the top of what Bob”s example could teach me. Yes, my pride took a beating, and well it should, but I could look back at Bob Vavricka and learn from him. Just as Charlie Axtell continues to teach me something about faith, so Bob Vavricka continues to teach me about humility, even if both lessons can sometimes seem like flagellations!

LOVE

The third elder who played a decisive part in my spiritual education was an alcoholic. When I knew him he was “on the wagon,” but he wrestled with a demon that was never far away. I was now in my early 30s serving a church not far from my teaching position at Milligan College. My mother and stepfather had visited the church at some point, and thus it must have raised a question in some minds about our family life.

One Sunday afternoon, Marvin and I were out calling. As we drove along he said, “Bob, you never talk about your birth-father.”

Without thinking I said, “He was a drunken bum. Mom got rid of him when I was a baby.” Suddenly it hit me that I was talking to an alcoholic.

As I struggled to find some words to recover, he calmly said, “Your father still loves you. You need to get acquainted with him.” Only later did I realize that what had prompted my crude response was a resentment with which I had never dealt. But prompted by those words from Marvin, I contacted my father. He was able to meet his grandchildren, and I was able to meet his second family. He had had a good second marriage, a successful engineering job, and was a member of the church.

Several years later he visited our home in Tennessee. One evening he was sitting alone outside in a lawn chair. When I went out to see him he said, “Bob, I have prayed for years that someday I would be able to visit you in your home and be with my grandchildren. And now it has happened.” Well, it would not have happened if my alcoholic elder had not preached me the sermon I so badly needed.

Faith, humility, and love are only three of the lessons that Christian elders have taught me over the years. I wish I could say I had been a better student. But I thank God for the eldership of the church and the pastoral ministry God has laid upon them.

 

 

Bob Wetzel, a CHRISTIAN STANDARD contributing editor, is president of Emmanuel School of Religion, Johnson City, Tennessee.