Sermon Illustration: My Meeting with “George”

I recently closed a sermon on Acts 13:1-4 with the following story. Actually, it was the close of a 4-week Vision Series. The story is personal in nature, but I am guessing any preacher can identify, have their own similar stories, and can tweak it to make it their own for similar purposes.

Last week I received a phone call from a man I had never heard of. He wanted to come by my office to meet me. To protect his privacy, let’s call him George. George heard I was living in Franklin, Tennessee – the same city he now resides – and was eager to set up a time to visit. I quickly learned that George, now in his mid to late 60’s (I am guessing, I didn’t ask) was a child at the Alabama Baptist Children’s Home where my grandfather, Tom Collier, served as Executive Director. 

George wanted to meet me because my grandfather impacted him for good in a deep and lasting way. George shared a few stories of my granddad that made me both sad (because I miss him) and proud to be from his family line. One of the stories George shared was having to walk 1.3 miles (one way) to the First Baptist Church in Troy, Alabama every Sunday morning and every Sunday night. That’s right. 150 children lined up and walked a total of 5.2 miles back and forth from the Church to the Children’s Home campus. I can’t imagine getting my own 3 children to do that – much less 150 to do it. . . twice on a Sunday. George said he did this for years. As long as he could remember. I am so grateful to be from a line of committed, “church going” people.

Before George left, as we sat in my office at the Church I now pastor, I asked him how long he has been in Franklin, TN. He’s been here over 20 years. I then asked him what church he and his wife were affiliated with. He said they weren’t and haven’t been for quite a while. I told him I knew of a few good ones if he was ever interested, we talked a few more minutes, then said good-bye. I am glad he called and grateful for the visit. 

But I need to tell you – the fact that he was “in church” for as long as he was (he was at the Children’s Home until he left for college), yet no longer was affiliated with one bothered me. I wonder how many “George’s” are out there just like him? I wonder how many mid to late 60 year old’s don’t give being a part of a local church a second thought? Now, to be sure, I don’t know all the circumstances. I don’t know George’s life history. I don’t know what happened post-college or post-marriage or post moving to Franklin or post-retirement. Any number of reasons could have led he and his wife to not be affiliated with a church. I get that. 

But what if that’s my child when he/she is 68 years old? What if it’s yours? Would that be okay with you? Would that be acceptable? To know that your child “went to” church every Sunday for the first 18-20 years of his life but could care less about it the last 20? 

Again, I don’t know the circumstances. There is so much that is simply out of anyone’s control. I get it. But what if we changed what we can control? What if the narrative changed? What if the expectations shifted? What if the focus and the signs of success shifted to – not coming to church and seeing how many people we can gather; not in building bigger buildings to house more people just like us – but in seeing how many we raise up to be disciple-makers? What if success shifted in raising up a generation of kids who understood Christianity is not about coming to church – but being the church? I wonder if we pushed them to join the Holy Spirit and expected all of our members to share the Gospel, in the power of the Spirit – if they wouldn’t be bored or put out with it when they went to college? 

I wonder if George had been pushed to join Jesus in what He was doing in and around him, and witnessed the Holy Spirit change lives by the power of the Gospel – if he would be actively making disciples of Jesus today?

I don’t know. I can’t control that. None of us can. But there are things we can control. What needs to shift in your life so that a culture of disciple-making is the norm?