Scripture Passage
(The New Testament Sis. Layman gave me on my 5th birthday)
Here is my greeting in my own handwriting—Paul (1 Corinthians 16:21 NLT)
Observation
Paul’s greeting at the close of 1 Corinthians caught my attention today. Because Paul would have dictated his letter to an amanuensis, such a handwritten greeting was a practical necessity. It was a sign of authenticity—proof that the letter really was sent from Paul himself—and helped to prevent other writers from falsely claiming Paul’s authority.
Perhaps because Thanksgiving Day is fast approaching, Paul’s greeting has me reminiscing about the great personal element to Christian faith. Christian faith is all about people! It’s about one Person above all others, to be sure, but it doesn’t take me long to think about wonderful people I’ve known whose life has—for me—borne incarnational witness to Christ.
Many people have heard me mention Sis. Laymon (in the church of my childhood, “Sister” and “Brother” were often used as terms of endearment and respect). Sis. Laymon taught the Sunday School I attended as a preschooler. We held class in the church furnace room around a cut-down dining room table. Brother Laymon, her husband (and a master carpenter in his own right), had built a wooden box with a hinged top, put a mirror in the bottom, and covered it with sand. With a little imagination, that sand became land, and the mirror (often) water, and that simple container—along with a few flannelgraph figures—became a diorama on which the stories of Scripture came alive. Though I was privileged to conduct her funeral several years ago, Sis. Laymon probably still has no idea the measure of Christ's love she expressed to an ornery preschooler.
Bro. VanAmber, I remember, celebrated my new dress shoes one Sunday (funny what you remember)…and would often—complete with actions—lean over to sing to me, “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine!” Members of my father’s church, Wayne and Doris Barlett, loved me like I was their own.
There were traveling evangelists and missionary guests who visited our home (true both then and now). Their stories and personalities invited me to see the compassionate heart of our heavenly Father—and taught me that true Christians laugh more heartily and joyfully than anyone else I know.
Pastor Royce Beckett mentored me during college and gave me broad and bold opportunities to lead and learn. Over twenty years ago, a handful of families welcomed me to Kansas and have patiently let me lead them as pastor since then.
There are scores of others—and I’ll not even attempt to write of my parents and family. Words could not express their impact. But all these have revealed Christ to me—delivering message after message of the love of God for both this world and for me—each in his or her “own handwriting”. I’m grateful for each distinctive and personal expression of the love of God.
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