Randy Wray’s Blog

The kids have been playing on the school sports teams this year.  Madison is playing volleyball and Reese is playing soccer.  Today the volleyball team takes on the staff.  There’s been quite a bit of good natured teasing and trash talking.  Some of the 8th grade girls can pound that ball.  It will be interesting. 

We bumped (see I’m a gamer) up the trash talking today and created a "Release of Whinability" that we are jokingly telling the girls they have to sign.  After all, Volleyball against the staff is a dangerous, very dangerous thing and tears on the court are a safety hazard.

I’ve got a bottle of extra strength tylenol, a tube of icy hot, and enough neoprene braces to cover the pipes for winter.

Game on!

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As I man of my word I dedicate this post to Chipper.

But what could I write that Greg has not already written?

What could I write that Greg will not soon write?

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I appreciate greatly the gracious remarks from all those who’ve commented and especially grateful for the posts of my ghost writers.  It felt something like a living funeral so it’s time to get back to reality and have some nonsensical comments.  Greg & Cecil, I trust you will lead the way.  I wanted to conclude this installment on preaching with some random thoughts and general rambling. 

The trauma of the bobbie pin incident aside, I’ve never been much of a "stand in the back after service" kind of preacher.  I find it an exercise in false modesty and forced affirmation.  Yes, I realize it is an effective method to shake a lot of hands but it fails to provide any venue for dialog or discussion.  The first person that stops to say anything besides "good sermon preacher" clogs up the line and the rest of the relieved congregants quietly escape unscathed.  You can see those looks directed at the person who stopped to talk with the preacher and thus allowing everyone else to exit.  In their expression you can hear the words, "Thanks for taking one for the team!"  I would much rather some one seek me out to dialog about the message than to stand in the back and feel like a person is compelled to say something nice.  The upside, of course, is that a few years of standing in the back preps you for a fall back career as a flight attendant.  Preachers must be secure in their calling and in their presentation that they not feel compelled to rush to the back for an ego stroke.

If the preacher delivers a good message speak to him / her personally and go beyond the "it was a good sermon."  Share with the speaker specifics that caused you to think, made you want to take the words of the text seriously and apply them to your life.  If you have questions about a sermon talk to the speaker about it.  If you disagree with the speaker the right thing to do is to make an appointment and be gracious with your words.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve delivered a message that I thought went nowhere only to have several people find me later and talk about how specific things in that message were exactly what they needed to hear.  I’ve also delivered what I thought were spectacular messages only to find out the response of my trusted informants to be "it was ok."  There might not be a phrase that I detest more than "it was ok." 

Preparation and Prayer is the key to a message that speaks for God and touches the hearts of the hearers.  Without either you might as well be on stage reading from "Field & Stream" or "Stop Wasting My Time Quarterly."  Preparation and prayer are to a message as peanut butter is to jelly.  They go hand in hand and you must have the adequate amount of each ingredient.  Before each delivery a pray something like "God help to say only the things you want me to say.  Make me forget to say those things that come only from me and not from you."

You may be a gifted orator but the message from God is not about your gift as an orator.  The message is about the word from God to those who will hear.  I’m embarrassed and ashamed when I find myself believing more in my giftedness and less in mystery of God speaking through me.  It is quite evident to all - even in the midst of delivery - when the cart is before the horse.

In conclusion (your cue to reach for a songbook) don’t shy away from the difficult texts and don’t create a pompous air about you that you know everything.  If you struggle or wrestle with the passage be honest about that.  If you struggle with the application of the text be honest about that.  Quit telling stories that make you look good and make you appear to be a spiritual super-hero.  No one, and I mean no one, will listen to a pompous, egotistical, self-superior speaker.  Preaching for some is simply an excuse to extol their inflated personal virtues.  You don’t need the church to show up to hear you go on about yourself  In the spirit of Forrest Gump, that’s all I’ve got to say about that. 

So, go on, do something productive and worthwhile today as we stand and sing . . .

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[Today's post is made possible by the gracious contribution of a second ghost writer.  As I promised the first ghost writer the post will be published sans editing.]

So this family rolls into our nation’s capital from the Left coast with tw small children, an athlete, and Randy.  We’re liking it though because their kids are the same ages as two of ours.  Randy is all smiles, has an inventory of creative shirts (which would later morph into suit & tie) & his sermons are definitely a departure from predecessors.

Since our hero is bi-lingual he is a perfect fit our congregation in Arlington.  We are one church but have a service in English and one in Spanish.  The children’s classes are combined so that there is plenty of interaction despite the language barriers.  Our deacons come from both Spanish speaking and English speaking.  One particular Sunday is quite memorable that Randy facilitates.  It is a Sunday morning we take time to acknowledge new deacons who have agreed to serve.  It involves the whole church and is a combined Spanish-English speaking service.  Even we non-Spanish speaking deacons make a promise to the church in both languages. The neatest part about the whole thing was that we had deacons standing up front originally from Nicaragua, El Salvador, Madagascar, Cambodia & the U.S.  African-American, Caucasian, Hispanic, Asian, Texan.  A true melting pot and everybody was thinking the same thing: God must be smiling on that day because surely this is what he had in mind for his people coming together to serve him.

Those of you who know Randy know he’s a gadget guy and loves the using the latest technology.  But for the microphone, our church wasn’t too technologically savvy.  RDW brings us into the 20th century (and eventually the 21st!) with sound boards & a sound system; mikes for the praise team; power point slides; projectors; guitars & amps (oops, OK, in another setting, we never quite got there on Sundays); etc.  One Sunday he has every kid’s attention because he uses a video clip from The Jungle Book.

Randy is also a handyman, of sorts, and of course a man’s man when it comes to tools.  I help him out one time installing a picket fence around his yard.  He’s got all the tools & plumb lines, boards & lumber, screws & power tools.  The people at Home Depot know him by first name – in both Spanish & English!  Later on he returns the favor at my house when I need to install a privacy fence along the back line of my property to block the assortment of old doors, blue plastic, large rocks & various other items seemingly imported from the Ozarks my neighbor has used as a makeshift fence.  It was then I learned the difference between my Martha Stewart tools and the tools of real men.  I’ve never been the same since.

The church flourishes in Arlington, not so much in numbers (this multi-cultural melting pot approach isn’t necessarily to everyone’s liking) but in depth of spirituality and vision for what God has called us to be as his people.  You’ve seen a theme in the recent days’ postings about how God has used Randy to broaden peoples’ perspectives and challenge our thinking. RDW challenges us to reflect the community in which we live, despite the fact our “community” is made up of around 7 million people literally from all over the world.  Those who have spent much time in the D.C. area know that most folks who live there are from “somewhere else,” there aren’t too many natives.  He challenges us to see ourselves not so much as individuals from all over who happen to live in D.C. but as a whole – diverse yet with a common purpose.

You can’t be around Randy for very long before music comes into the conversation, especially a guitar.  Music during the Sunday morning assembly became a much more integral part of our worship & praise, much beyond just the standard songs from a hymnal.  I even learned some basic chords that made my 5 year old think I was Phil Keaggy, but Randy was patient & generous and always encouraged me to keep at it.  We ended up moving away before Randy & Beth did.  As a testament to their generous & encouraging spirit they were one of the last families there on moving day helping to clean things out & load things up.  Presumably it wasn’t to hurry us on out of town.

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During my time in Oregon, as I was in the midpoint of my doctoral studies,  I took a class on preaching with Dr. Donald Sunukjian.  I am not overstating or exaggerating when I say this course changed my whole approach to preaching.  As a result of this course and his instruction my preaching underwent a major paradigm shift.

Before this course I prepared and preached under the assumption that every sermon had to be filled with supporting statements from the Bible and that every fact, every utterance, every point had to be accompanied with multiple scriptural references.

Those of you who endured some of my sermons up to this point, and those of you who were taught this way understand this particular paradigm of preaching.  It’s not wrong and I’m not critical or condescending of this particular style.  In many respects it is a great way to study, prepare and even teach but is not the most effective way to communicate the truth of a particular text and keep it around 20 minutes.

Dr. Sunukjian taught us to view the text as a narrative.  To explain the text with the text itself and the context and seek for the application of that particular text.  This paradigm viewed each text as containing a main idea and our objective as communicators was not to lead people on a textual expedition to see how many bible verses you could fit into your sermon in support of what you were saying.  Our goal was to allow that one text to come alive and speak to the people of God.  On occasion I will bring in other passages but I limit this to passages (and only a few) that support the main idea of the main text or that encourage us to pursue this main idea in the context of application.

Dr. Sunukjian also challenged us to illustrate the text with true, real-life stories (of ourselves and others) as it applied to the text.  We were to stay away from the canned illustrations and the "preacher" stories and stick to the examples in real life that portrayed truth and factual interaction with the text.

I come to the text now and view the text for a Sunday as a gift to be unwrapped, explored and given to the church.   A gift that my hearers will take to immediately and want to interact with on a personal level.  I’m not always successful in this regard but understand that towards the end of my time in Oregon I stopped being a preacher who preached sermons and became a messenger who delivered messages. 

I’m determined to limit my posts, on one given subject, to fewer posts than there are Rocky movies so I plan for one more post (The Arlington Years) and an epilogue.  (Following this, I’ll probably begin a new series of posts on Chipper.)  I’ve received another offer and have accepted the services of a second ghost writer who has penned his recollection of the Arlington years.

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Randy has graciously chosen to humor me and allow me to write his Eugene memoirs.  I will say right up front that Randy could classify his time in Eugene as bittersweet. I am choosing to dwell entirely on the sweet.
 
The day Randy tried out for the job in Eugene we knew that he was the perfect candidate and exactly what the church desperately needed. His style of teaching was positive, engaging and relevant. I remember introducing myself to him after services that first day, and he showed me a photo of beautiful newborn Madison. My first impression of Randy was that he was happy, friendly, a hard worker and very intelligent. My first impression was 100% accurate and still holds true today.
 
On July 10, 1993, Randy baptized my daughter, Becky.  I remember right after she was baptized, he turned her around to look at everyone in the church and he said, "This is your family now, Becky." I will never forget that.
 
There are many sermons Randy gave while in Eugene that powerfully impacted my walk with Jesus and made me a better person. There are two lessons he gave that I still think about on a regular basis.  In one lesson, Randy talked about the destructive nature that negative comments can have.  He said when we tear people down, we are throwing stones at them, and that even small stones, after time, can do a tremendous amount of damage.  I will never forget that. Another time, he smashed a ceramic flowerpot on the floor so it shattered in hundreds of pieces. Then he said no matter how broken you are, God can make you whole. I will never forget that.  I saved one of those broken pieces and I still have it.
 
While in Eugene, Randy got his PhD in his spare time while starting a new church.  Top that if you can, but you can’t.
 
While in Eugene, Randy prayed a lot.  One time when setting up chairs before service, Randy told me that as he was placing each chair, he would pray for whoever was going to sit in that particular chair.  I will never forget that.
 
Randy and family lived in a great house on Sharon street. I remember going there and eating tri-tip and  playing croquet. I remember Madison chasing Reese around the house and saying, "Reesie boy!"  Randy’s kids were always smiling and you can make your own conclusions there.
 
Randy liked to eat double layer cream cheese pumpkin pie, but that probably happens other places besides Eugene.
 
Randy baptized my son, David on June 2, 1997.  Shortly after that, Randy and family moved to Arlington.
 
Like I said before, Randy’s time in Eugene could be called bittersweet. I told him if he only came to baptize my kids, then all the junk he had to deal with was worth it. He said, yes, it WAS worth it.

I will never forget that.

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Following the class I taught at the Youth Ministers Seminar two individuals approached me to see if I would be interested in talking with them about a youth ministry opportunity in Fresno, California.  Where?  Is that in the continental US?  The initial process ran its course and I headed to Fresno for a week long interview.  Did you catch that last part?  It was a week long interview.  The best interview experience I’ve ever had.  There was no doubt that in that amount of time I had a good idea of the opportunity.  There was also no doubt that by the second day I had decided not to go to Fresno. 

I met the preacher for lunch and he informed me that he checked up on me and had heard that I was a good preacher.  He wanted me to know that it was his pulpit and I wasn’t going to come in and take it from him.  That I should "do my time" in some smaller churches first, like he had to do.  I left that lunch and called my dad and said "I am not coming to this church" and began to explain to him the reasons why.  He listened and said something like "well, you’re going to be there for five more days, stick it out, do your best and see what happens at the end of the week."

By the end of the week I knew I wanted to move to Fresno.  The kids had won me over.  My time in Fresno, not without it’s challenges, was a bright spot in my ministry career.  To this day I consider that church family my "home" church.  I was given the structure to succeed and the freedom to be creative.  There’s hardly a week that goes by that I do not think about our remember in some way my time with this church.  Of course meeting the girl you married in that church lends some helpful reminders!

I spoke for a number of area youth rallies and had the occasional opportunity to preach on Sunday morning.  The biggest change in my preaching style was definitely  content and length.  I would usually have between 2 to 4 weeks to prepare a sermon and that was always enough time to over prepare.  I had moved from one side of the spectrum to the other and found myself having to fit everything into one sermon.  When you preach on a weekly basis you can spread the joy.  I wanted to pursue every angle of the text, every connection point and often made the mistake of doing just that.

Partway through my time the preacher resigned and the regular preaching duties increased.  This increase in opportunity began to reignite the desire I had to preach on a weekly basis and fueled my desire to pursue my education.  Having completed a Masters degree I began to investigate opportunities to pursue a Doctoral degree.  I found a program that seemed to fit my criteria and tried to work it out so that I could stay in ministry with the Fresno church.  This turned out to not be the case so 1 month after the birth of our first child we moved to Oregon (my mother-in-law still hates me for that - but she hates me in that good sort of way) to be closer to the school and to begin my first official full-time preaching gig.

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Isn’t it interesting how many similar experiences there are of walking into the "wrong" church?  And isn’t it silly how we were trained to recognize the "wrong" church on something so external?  The difficulty I have with this is the assumption (which is incorrect) that you know the "right" church simply because of the absence of musical instruments. 

My senior year at ACU was coming to a close and I had a decision to make.  Dr. Churchill knew of a church in Sanderson, Texas that was looking for a preacher.  Sanderson is about 5 hours from Abilene so I drove out there one weekend to preach for them and check out the opportunity.  I remember being with them for several weekends, culminating with our outreach team leading a weekend youth event in Sanderson.  There was a wonderful family there that I stayed with each time and they fed me and took care of me on my trips to Sanderson.  He was a leading figure in the church and the town’s bank president.  She was a nurturing, motherly figure.  I came to appreciate them quickly for their generosity and hospitality.  They were very gracious and supportive. 

I don’t remember exactly how many weekends I had been with them prior to the arrival of our outreach team.  I knew I had been there long enough to feel at home in the church, and knew were my room was in the house of my Sanderson family.  I do remember, with great detail, the moment that Sunday afternoon when he called me into his study and offered me the job to be the minister of the church.  I was offered a salary of $22,500.00 per year plus housing in the church parsonage.  Way back in 1987, when gas was still under $1 a gallon, it was a generous offer - even for a soon to be college graduate.

I was excited to receive my very first job offer and still wonder why I didn’t accept the job right on the spot.  I probably would have had he not told me to take a couple of weeks and pray about it.  He probably knew the swirl of emotions surrounding my upcoming graduation and wanted me to make an informed choice.  Graduation was not far away and I agreed to take some time and prayerfully consider the offer.

Up to this point I had not fully decided if I would begin preaching ministry or youth ministry.  After graduation (and parting from the girl I thought I wanted to marry) I went with my parents to their home in Gresham, Oregon for Christmas.  It was here that I learned that the church in Vancouver, Washington was looking for a Youth Minister.  I had interned one summer with the Metro Church in Gresham and the thought of working in the area, and so close to my parents, at the time was an attractive offer.  I remember having an interview weekend with the teens, parents and church family.  I remember going to a meeting of the elders on a Wednesday night that lasted well past midnight.  I remember being offered the job for $24,000.00 a year with no other benefits or bonuses.  And I remember accepting the job on the spot.

I remember making the call to the church in Sanderson and how hard it was to make that call.  They were very understanding and very disappointed.  They even offered to raise my salary if that would make a difference.  It truly wasn’t about the salary.  It had some to do with initially choosing youth ministry over preaching ministry even though I knew that eventually I would migrate to preaching ministry.  It had some to do with not wanting the responsibility of leading a church at such a young age.  It had more to do with not wanting to grow up yet.

My time in Vancouver was short and quite painful.  It wasn’t long into my time there (the first month) that I knew for certain that I had made the wrong decision.  I had indeed chosen poorly.  I was not prepared for the challenges and responsibility of full-time youth ministry and made my share of mistakes along the way.  I was also unfairly treated for a whole host of reasons of which I will not detail.  My splash into the pool of full-time ministry was a flop.  Even though my life had seemed to move me in the direction of ministry, even though my experience, my gifts and my education was geared towards ministry I had not been in full-time ministry two years and was already looking to get out. 

In the fall of 1989 I attended the youth minister’s seminar in Lubbock, Texas to teach a class and look for a new job.  I had interviewed with an insurance company prior to making the trip and they encouraged me to travel to Lubbock so I could meet with one of their representatives who had graduated from ACU and had started with their company about the same time I had started in ministry.  So with that I got on a plane and was resolved to make a better decision this time.

I’ve sometimes wondered "what if."  What would have happened had I taken the blue pill?  And, what would have happened had I accepted the job in Sanderson? With a greater but certainly not complete (not even close) understanding of God’s work in my life I see that God was placing the Sanderson opportunity in front of me.  I don’t believe that God was punishing me for choosing Vancouver.  Better than that, God redeemed my poor choice (and my poor choices) and began a work in my life (that is not yet completed) to make me suitable for his service.

I would have had struggles and would have made poor choices in Sanderson as well.  I guess the difference is I would have had a horse.

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It was during my freshman year that I, along with my roommate, attended a Wednesday night church service at the invitation of some friends.  The 5th and Grape Church of Christ was having a singing night and they invited anyone who wanted to come up and lead a song to do so.  My roommate and I had met at the Firm Foundation School of Church Music so we naturally accepted the invitation and each led a song.  We received the weekly bulleting from this church a few days later and discovered that by leading a song we had "placed membership" which was news to us.  I guess we didn’t read the fine print.

We would have ended up there anyway because we wanted to be part of an outreach team that was based out of this church.  Led by Dr. F.M. Churchill, the outreach team would travel all over Texas conducting weekend youth rallies and youth programs.  On Saturday, or Sunday afternoon as the schedule dictated, we would perform skits and other dramatic presentations, a group would sing, and someone would speak.  On Sunday morning the service would be led by the college age guys. 

When my time in Robert Lee came to end I joined this group and had the privilege of traveling all over the state of Texas and speaking / preaching for a lot of churches.  Some of the more interesting town names included:  Kermit, Fluvanna, Spur, Battle Ground, and Old Glory.

I stayed in this group and consider it a defining event in my college experience my entire time at ACU.  We always have some new people join each year but we had a core group that stayed together the entire time.  The experience was great.  Dr. Churchill would provide direction and would take charge of scheduling and travel arrangements and we would take care of everything else.  Deciding on the skits to be done, the program format, who would speak, who would lead singing, who would preach and so on.

Around the end of my sophmore year Dr. Churchill moved the outreach group from 5th and Grape (also known as 5th and Gripe) to the16th and Vine church (what is it with these church names?) and we hardly seemed to miss a beat.  Between the outreach group, the bible department at ACU, and word of mouth I was busy preaching in quite a few places.  Whenever possible, I’d always have a car full of people and we’d head out for some memorable experiences.

Like the church that had 6 people - 5 of whom were women.  Our posse double attendance that morning.  The one man in attendance didn’t want to do anything publicly so my roommate led the singing, prayed and served the Lord’s supper, while I preached, prayed, and served the Lord’s Supper.  The church ladies were very sweet and hospitable.  After the service the leading lady came up to me and said something like "now you all go on down to the gas and sip, fill up your car and eat lunch have them put it on (and she gave her name) ’s tab.  Cuisine at the gas and sip consisted of fried chicken and potato wedges.  Yes, it’s true!  I once got paid in chicken.

One Sunday, I think it was in Coleman, Texas our posse arrived at the church I was supposed to preach after some struggles with the map and difficulties finding the place.  Every church in town seemed to be a nondescript red-brick building.  We found the street and found the church on the corner and started to head in with the other members right before service was getting ready to start.  A person, who now I believe was probably the preacher, met us at the door and welcomed the sight of college age students coming to church.  I introduced myself and said, "I’m here to preach this morning."  I didn’t catch it at the time but the look on his face was one of extreme confusion.  We made our way inside, picked up a bulletin that I scanned for the order of service (to see if the sermon was before or after communion) sat down in a pew and looked up.  There in the front of the auditorium was a massive pipe organ.  We all looked at each other and it we all knew - we were in the wrong church.  As the service began to start we quickly got up, shuffled out the back and made a run for the car.  It turns out the church we were supposed to be at was on the other corner of the street.  I’ve always wondered what happened when we exited and what happened with the person whom I informed I was there to preach.

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(I’m pleased to welcome a new addition to my blog buddies.  Check out the coloring book when you get a chance.)

In the fall of 1983 (has it really been that long?) I was off to Abilene Christian University to begin my academic pursuits.  Beth laughs about the time she went to ACU to visit her brother and check out the possibility of enrollment.  Coming from California she was struck by the dress and hairdos of the gals and was highly amused by the chant at the football game "get the ball y’all, get the ball."  There’s more to the chant but it’s hard to type in drawl.

Being six hours from my nearest source of income it was obvious that I should, along with most other college students, look for a job.  My first job was a great job.  I had cousins that attended the Church of Christ in Robert Lee, Texas.  It so happened they were looking for an interim preacher.  I’m pretty sure I dusted off my Three Crosses sermon and drove the 58 files to try out.

The church leadership liked what they heard, or at least they liked the minimal time they had to hear and I was hired to be the interim preacher until such a time as they could locate and hire a full-time preacher.

So, with rare exception, I drove every weekend to Robert Lee Texas and preached a sermon that I received the week before from my dad.  It was a sweet deal in many respects.  I would stay with my cousins, get to do laundry, eat great food, preach twice on Sunday AND get paid.  Not to shabby for a college freshman.

With the help of my dad’s sermons, and at the time I saw no problem whatsoever preaching through his outlines, my time crept up and I was in the 15 to 20 minute range.  The ol’ bait and switch - get the job with a ten minute sermon and then give them an extra 5 to 10!  After all, I was being paid and wore suit and a tie and everything.

A few weeks into my tenure as the interim preacher a man on the front row, who to this point had been asleep, woke up suddenly with a tremendous roar like yawn.  Smacked his lips a couple of times, blinked his eyes a time or two and went back to sleep.  Like a deer caught in the headlights I froze, mid-sentence, in my tracks.  I was surprised, shocked and a little bit scared.  Did he just die right in the middle of point # 2?  It was no window incident but had I just killed a man with the power of my oratory?

Investigator - what do we have here?

Me - it was an accident, I swear.

Investigator - are you not in freshman bible?  thou shalt not swear.

Me - he’s just asleep

Investigator - this man is not asleep, he’s dead

Me - dead?

Investigator - yes, he is dead and it appears he died of boredom! 

I looked into the audience for help and everyone was looking at me.  There were a few head nods and those hand signals you make when you’re trying to tell the preacher, "go on, finish the sermon."  I wrapped up the sermon quickly so as not to kill a second person and wouldn’t you know it the moment we began to sing that invitation song he woke up for good this time.

Afterwards I inquired as to this event, because no one else seemed particularly concerned about it.  They told me, "oh, that?  Well brother so and so has a heart condition and does that every once in a while."  I remember thinking "that would have been useful information to share with the new interim preacher."

My time in Robert Lee was a tremendous blessing and a great learning laboratory.  Having to preach two sermons a Sunday (even with a borrowed sermon) gave me the first taste of the tremendous burden of study and adequate preparation required for the job.  It was during this time that I began to write my own sermons based on the things I was learning and studying in class. 

Speaking of class, I was in the school band at the time and preached one Sunday night in a tux because we had a concert at school and I wouldn’t have time to make it back and change.  I wish I could remember the sermon I preached in the tux.

The church members were very gracious and tolerating of my efforts and witnessed first hand my growth and development as a speaker.  My cousins put up with an invasion every weekend and being young I’m sure I did not adequately convey my gratitude.  My roommate and other friends would often go with me for the weekend.  I’d often take someone with me to lead singing and others would even have opportunities to teach a class or participate publicly in the assembly.  It gave Robert Lee their very own college age group.  They would feed us and dot on us like we were part of their church family.

I worked with this church for the better part of a year and smile at the memory of Robert Lee, Texas.  I was sad when they finally hired a full-time preacher.  Someone who would live in the community and work on a daily basis with the church community.  A part of me hopes they were a bit sad as well.

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