John Brodie was pro football’s first player to sign a million
dollar contract. His career spanned from the late fifties to the early
seventies. During his prime, he was without doubt one of the great quarterbacks
in the game.
In
the mid-sixties, Brodie and the old American Football League’s franchise, the
Houston Oilers, arranged a deal which called for him to switch leagues and join
the Oilers. It was this transaction that helped to cause the merger between the
National Football League and the AFL.
Because
of his success, a reporter decided to goad Brodie a little during a particular
press conference. The reporter asked Brodie why it was that a million dollar
quarterback had to hold the football on field goals and extra-points.
"Well," Brodie replied, "If I didn't, it would fall over."
I
always like that story, and it gave me encouragement yesterday morning when I was asked to
serve the trays for our communion service. As silly as it sounds, serving “on
the table” made me feel apprehensive. It had been almost thirty years since I
had done that. I knew there were always risks involved in serving communion.
When
I was a kid, one of our members accidentally dropped the trays of grape juice
he was holding, shattering the glass cups. The preacher tried to pass off the
situation lightly with some humor, but the guy was so embarrassed, he never
came back.
I
did not want to make a mistake in front of a lot of people, but risks
notwithstanding, I decided to accept the challenge. After all, if nobody were
to "hold the ball", “it would fall over.”
I knew the guys who were given the
responsibility to locate people to help during the assembly. They always had a
hard time finding folks to serve.
Moreover,
and I hope this does not sound presumptuous, but I thought it would be good for
my kids to see me serve the church in another way besides being the preacher.
So far my transition out of the pulpit has gone well, and I have been very
pleased that my kids are identifying me in a role unique to them—“regular”
member. You see, for as long as my kids have known me, I have been the preacher
of their church.
Our
fellowship, comparatively speaking, is pretty good about not holding preachers
on too high a pedestal, but even in our fellowship, there is something
distinctive about the position of pulpit minister. I DO want my kids to nail
down the fact that I'm a disciple first—not a preacher.
That
can be hard, particularly when their friends do not view things that way. At
Shiloh, we are blessed with a large campus and many wonderful facilities, which
people of the community use literally everyday. Last July, during our Vacation
Bible School, one my son's elementary school friends (who does not attend a
church) visited.
One
night, he emphatically stated to the children of his VBS class, “Timothy's dad
owns all of this!” Of course, we know Jesus owns it; we're just marking time
attempting to become more like him.
Having
stated that my kids (and their friends!) need to see me as a disciple first, I
know I do as well. As I wrote a few weeks ago in this blog, I have loved
preaching so much. Earlier this year I became concerned preaching may have
become an idol for me. I know how crucial it is that I view myself as a
disciple first, and not a preacher.
As
silly as it sounds, serving the communion trays-with all of its risks-was
another opportunity to allow myself to be tested. I knew it was a good probe
into my heart.
Subsequently,
I passed out the trays. Thankfully, I do not think I disrupted the service. I
did not pass the trays to the wrong person. I did not drop grape
juice.
I
think I passed the physical test of serving during communion.
I
hope I also passed the spiritual test of my heart.
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