“The LORD called Moses and spoke to him from the tent of meeting…” Lev 1:1
In 2001 my mom invited me to hear a southern evangelist who was invited to preach in my home town, Penns Grove, NJ. Not wanting to upset or frustrate my mother, I decided to go. Little did I know that this particular preacher had a reputation for being one of the best preachers within the Wesleyan-Holiness tradition of his generation. Even to this day, after hearing thousands of preachers, this particular gentleman is among the best I’ve ever heard.
This preacher was at the time (and still is) an older, stout man, but vibrant and alive. He simply glows with Jesus. He’s known to use his slow southern draw to thrust his main points of a sermon at opportune times like a Spartan soldier thrusting a spear at his enemy in full, strategic force.
He’s also known for telling stories. He is, to this day, the best oral story teller I’ve ever heard (good story-telling and good preaching often go hand-in-hand). True to form, this preacher began his sermon with a story that went like this:
One fine evening an old, rough man walked into the local bar carrying a dog in his big farmin’ arms. There was something unusual about this dog. This dog had no legs. He was fat dog that looked like a bloated sausage. Ya see, he was fat because he couldn’t walk.
Well, that rugged old man walked right up to that bar and plopped that sausage dog right on the bar, like an old suitcase.
The dog gave a grunt.
The bartended looked at the dog a moment, then looked at the dog’s owner in bewilderment. He didn’t know what threw him more, this legless sausage dog wallerin on his bar, or the simple fact that the dog had no legs.
He decided to make some small talk. The bartended asked the man,
“That sure is an unusual dog ya got there.”
“Uh huh,” the man grunted back.
After a bit of a pause, the bartender conjured up another inquiry
“He gotta name?”
“He ain’t got no name.”
“He ain’t got no name? What kinda dog ain’t got no name?”
“He ain’t got a name ’cause he couldn’t come if ye called ‘im.”
The preacher stopped the story right there and thrusted forward with this, “Would you come if He called you?”
I have to admit, that very night, during a time in my life when I wasn’t being faithful in my walk with Jesus, I thought to myself, “Come if he called me? I wouldn’t even recognize his voice if I heard it.” The Holy Spirit pierced me deep. That night was the beginning of my call to missions.
Would you come if he called you? Would you recognize his voice?
God is in the business of calling his people. While God is a competent communicator, we must be faithful and competent listeners.
Note: That preacher was Asbury College Prof. Roy Lauter.
