Friends and Brothers

 May 26, 2022

I’m guessing most denizens of the USA who read my posts are familiar with those television ads showing some poor soul stretched out on the floor pushing the button on a device hanging from their neck. “Help! I’ve fallen, and I can’t get up!” That’s right—Life Alert. I’m not much of a thespian, but I’m putting the world on notice: I could be very convincing with that ad tonight. 

I don’t know how my co-conspirators feel, but I ache in places I didn’t know I had. Today, for the price of an ice cream cone which wasn’t even a part of the original plan, my friends Harry, Kent, Otis, Doug, and Jerry spent more than three hours blocking up tops from the trees that had been logged on my son’s land. Three hours, and we all emerged from the woods with all our extremities intact! (Thank you, Jesus!) There would have been others, but prior responsibilities kept them away today. Young man Brandon worked alongside us, but had to leave early and so missed his ice cream. 

Here’s the deal (as my son often says): Except for Brandon who had to get back to work, all these guys are retired, which means they like me, are looking at the top of life’s hill in the rear view mirror. I haven’t asked, but if they are as tired and sore as I am, they’ll be heading for bed a bit early tonight. 

The other day I was talking with a fellow retired pastor who like me, spent most of his pastoral life in one church. We talked about the blessings associated with such ministries. Like myself, he has married children of people he married years ago. My comment to him was that every pastor has a choice: We can move around and have a breadth of experience, or we can stay in one place and have depth of experience. We cannot have both. 

These men working alongside me today have been friends for close to forty years. I officiated at some of their weddings, baptized and married their kids, attended conferences together and even vacationed together. We are a Band of Brothers who are willing to drop our own plans to help each other out, have coffee together, pray together. I am blessed beyond measure by them, and thank God for their love for Jesus, for his church, for my son, and for me. Most of the research into such matters tells us that pastors are some of the loneliest people on earth. I was told at the beginning of my ministry that it was inappropriate for me to have friends in the congregation. I am so glad I ignored that conventional wisdom, and wish every pastor could have friends like this.

My brothers, today you were what you have been to me for years—gifts from Jesus Christ, true friends and brothers. Thank you, and thank God! And don’t forget the ibuprofen tonight. If you’re like me, you’ll need it!