A few years ago I had the privilege of serving as a longer term interim for one of our Oklahoma Baptist churches. I had been there long enough that a lot of people knew who I was and I knew who a bunch of them were. I had also been there long enough that a lot of people were increasingly excited about getting a real preacher to replace me.
I had been there long enough that I had become acquainted with a young boy of about 8-9 years old. He had distinctly red hair and more than a few freckles. I am sure that he didn’t invent mischief. But he certainly wasn’t opposed to it. He was simply a good natured, mischievous young boy – just like all young boys should be. For those of you who are Andy Griffith fans, this young one would have made a great Opie.
It happened on Sunday morning. It was back during Covid. You remember those days.
I was standing in the foyer greeting people as they entered the worship center. I was shaking hands with those who were not afraid of Covid. I was giving knuckles to those who had a healthy concern about Covid. And I was bumping elbows with those who were more than a bit terrified of it. I am sure glad those days are behind us.
But on this particular day, my little red haired, freckled faced buddy walked up and stood by me. He didn’t say anything to me or anyone else for that matter. He just stood there offering an occasional handshake, knuckles, and elbow touch. For a few moments, I thought maybe the Lord was calling him to be a senior pastor.
But then we had a little bit of a lull in the folks who were coming in. He looked up at me and asked, “Can I ask you a question?” I thought the young man might have a Bible question he had been wrestling with or maybe a question about the organization of the New Testament Church. So, I said, “Of course you can ask me a question. What’s on your mind?” He quickly replied, “I was wondering if you could shorten up the service today. I would like to get home a little earlier than we have been.”
My first thought was that somebody had put him up to that. I quickly scanned the foyer area looking for an adult, probably a deacon, who would have been bent over laughing at that one. But nope. Not a soul was paying attention to my situation. It was just me and this red haired, freckled face boy locked in a battle of wits over how long the worship service should last.
So, I said what any self-respecting preacher would say. I said, “How about you go find the music guy and ask him. He’s the one taking up all of our time with all those songs he’s singing” (I was basically teasing but I needed to get out of this one, one way or another).
To my surprise, my young friend, turned and walked away. To this day I have no idea if he went to find the music guy and ask him to cut out a song or two or three. The music guy never said anything to me about it. I didn’t have the heart (OK, courage) to ask. But our services stayed about the same length after that. And my red haired, freckled face young friend never bothered asking me again. Maybe he thought I was a lost cause.
We all need people in our lives who are courageous enough and care enough to ask important questions – even those questions that might catch us a bit off guard. So, don’t avoid those folks. Instead welcome them in and let them ask away. Who knows what you might learn.
