‘Mr. OCC’ Meredith Williams Uses Facebook Like Barnabas (and Barney Fife)

By Matt Proctor 

A few years ago, Forbes ran a story headlined, “Abraham Lincoln Filed a Patent for a ‘Paper’ Facebook in 1845.” It claimed the not-yet-president tried to start a newspaper in Springfield, Ill., where citizens could publish pictures and personal tidbits to “keep people aware of others in the town.” The story was a hoax, but it got me thinking: If historical figures used Facebook today, what would that look like? 

Answer: Meredith Williams. 

A UNIQUE MINISTRY OF CONNECTION 

Among the 15,000 Ozark Christian College alumni, Meredith Williams is a legend. During his 46 years at OCC, Meredith wore many hats: director of nationally known music group Impact Brass, admissions director, alumni director, Preaching-Teaching Convention director, and Ambassador magazine editor. Nicknamed “Mr. OCC,” he’s been the college’s single best cheerleader, and when he retired in 2013 at age 73, his ministry didn’t stop.  

He just moved it to Facebook. 

“Facebook is fabulous,” Meredith says. “Some don’t like it because of the political comments, but I want to use it for good.”  

Meredith loves Facebook because he loves people. He’s a natural-born connector, and with a mischievous grin, twinkling eyes, tireless work ethic, and heart as big as the Kansas plains, it’s hard not to like Meredith. After crisscrossing our country for OCC for almost five decades, he’s built thousands of friendships, and at 82, Meredith still wants to stay connected.  

“After the 2011 Joplin tornado, so many OCC alumni reached out, wanting news,” remembers Meredith. “I quickly learned Facebook was the best way to keep people informed.” After retiring, he’s used his personal Facebook page to build an Ozark-connected community of thousands, and Meredith is the mayor (and pastor) of this online “town.”  

To describe his ministry, it might be easiest to compare him to three figures of yesteryear, if they were on Facebook.  

IF BARNABAS USED FACEBOOK 

In the early church, Joseph of Cyprus loved to share encouraging news: “Saul the persecutor is now a Christian! Gentiles don’t have to become Jews to follow Jesus! Mark the discouraged missionary wants to return to the mission field!” (Acts 9:27; 15:24-25; 15:37). He spread so much relational warmth that he was nicknamed Barnabas, or “Mr. Encouragement” (Acts 4:36).  

Like Barnabas, Meredith shares encouraging news, but through Facebook among the greater Ozark family. First thing each morning, he posts a Scripture. Then, among the 3 to 5 posts he makes each day (always with pictures), he’ll mention people’s birthdays, anniversaries, ministry accomplishments, weddings, babies, and milestone moments from Ozark’s past.  

“People will leave comments under those posts, words of appreciation for the person highlighted—sometimes 400 or 500 comments,” Meredith says. “On OCC historical posts, they’ll share memories of the event or person mentioned, like Seth Wilson or P.T. Butler. Folks say it’s meaningful to them.”  

Like a proud grandpa, Meredith himself leaves comments on many others’ Facebook pages—“Congratulations!” or “You’re one mighty fine fellow”—and his ministry does not go unnoticed.  

“Meredith, your ministry of encouragement means so much to so many of us,” says longtime preacher and Ozark alum John Caldwell. “Your post about our 57^th anniversary is just the latest of so many ways you’ve blessed us. Thanks!”  

When Jeff Greene served as director of alumni and church relations for Kentucky Christian University, he wrote this to Meredith: “Your daily posts of former Ozark faculty/staff, with updates on alumni and current faculty/staff, are fantastic. I wish I had you here at KCU! Thank you for being an amazing ambassador for Ozark, the Restoration Movement, and her churches.” 

Like Barnabas, Meredith makes sure no one is overlooked or underappreciated—a Facebook ministry of encouragement—and I’m grateful. 

IF BARNEY FIFE USED FACEBOOK 

Meredith isn’t just the “mayor of Facebook.” Sometimes he’s the sheriff . . . or at least the deputy. If Mayberry’s beloved Barney Fife had social media, I’m sure the concerned deputy would post community alerts—road construction, blood drives, city ordinance changes—along with APBs (all-points bulletins) for lost dogs and stolen property.  

Like Barney Fife, Meredith shares community bulletins, but through Facebook, alerting the citizens of social media about good causes. He promotes upcoming Ozark events, shares relevant local ministry information, and even communicates needs that others could help with.  

As an example, one Sunday afternoon this past summer, my pickup truck was stolen from my driveway. The truck had once belonged to my now-departed father-in-law, so we felt the sentimental loss more than the financial loss. We figured we would never see it again. 

But somehow Meredith found out. He got information from my wife, posted a picture of the truck with plate number and the phone number of the Joplin police, and asked his 5,000 followers to keep an eye out. (His Facebook friends don’t all live in the Joplin area, but many do.) After putting out the APB, Meredith’s post was then shared by 250 different people. If each person who shared had 500 Facebook friends, that post had 125,000 potential viewers. 

In other words, Meredith digitally deputized a posse of thousands! Now these social media Mounties were riding the streets of Joplin, patrolling for a 2002 gray F-150.  

And it totally worked. 

Two days later, at dusk, Jill Spencer and her husband, Chip, were driving past a trailer park when she spotted a man hand-brushing tan paint onto a gray pickup. That’s an odd way to paint a vehicle, she thought. Then it hit her: “That’s the Proctors’ truck I saw on Meredith’s Facebook!” The Spencers immediately called the police. 

When I was called to the scene that night, the detectives said my truck had been used in multiple crimes the previous 48 hours, including a shooting, and they removed guns, bullets, drugs, knives, and a sword from my F-150. We didn’t recover the VBS supplies we’d been hauling (including 20 children’s Bibles—please pray they end up in eager kids’ hands). But we did recover our family-heritage truck; plus, a violent criminal ended up behind bars. (Pray for him too.) 

Marshal Meredith did better policing than Deputy Fife ever did.  

Like Barney, Meredith alerts his beloved community to important information—a Facebook ministry of communication—and I’m grateful. 

IF MORDECAI USED FACEBOOK 

In the book of Esther, when King Xerxes’ edict threatened the exiled Israelite nation, Mordecai enlisted thousands of Jews to fast and pray for three days (Esther 4:16-17). God heard their prayers, granted Esther favor with Xerxes, and saved the Jewish people.  

Like Mordecai, Meredith shares prayer requests, enlisting a vast network of prayer warriors to intercede. When a premature baby struggles in the NICU, when a loved one dies, when someone faces surgery or battles cancer, Meredith puts the word out on Facebook. “You can get a prayer request around the world in seconds!” he says. 

He keeps an extensive database on Ozark alumni, so he can tell a bit of each person’s story along with their request.  

“The information makes people feel more connected to the individual, and I think it motivates them to pray.”  

Often, says Meredith, the family is relieved that he assumes the burden of communicating updates on their loved one to the larger community. They’re also comforted knowing so many are praying. 

Reggie Epps, senior minister of Kansas City’s Legacy Christian Church, has been a longtime Ozark partner. When Reggie was recently diagnosed with two kinds of cancer, Meredith mobilized thousands of prayer warriors to lift him up. Reggie’s wife, Shara, was so moved, she wrote this to Meredith: “What a ministry you have, dear brother. Thank you for getting the word out. It is such a blessing to know the gates of heaven will be stormed by the saints!” 

Like Mordecai, Meredith mobilizes an army of intercessors—a Facebook ministry of prayer—and if you scrolled through Meredith’s posts in order, you would see God’s gracious answers to those petitions. 

Meredith doesn’t get paid for any of this. His social media ministry—of encouragement, information, and prayer—is a labor of love. “It’s not a job,” he says. “It’s a joy.”  

As we approach the Thanksgiving season, I’m sure I’m not the only one who will say, “Thank you, Lord, for Meredith Williams.” 

Matt Proctor serves as president of Ozark Christian College, Joplin, Mo. 

Connect with Meredith Williams and keep up with OCC happenings via his Facebook page.