Suffering

Suffering

- Read 2 Corinthians 4:7-18

As you know, we have been going through Genesis. I was looking forward to the next couple of weeks. I was planning on preaching 4 sermons around the life of Abraham. I dug books out of my library. I ordered one, I thought I had and couldn’t find. I went to Georgia this week for a conference and on the way through town, even went by my brother’s house and stole a book I had given him that had information on Abraham. I was looking forward to this morning and the next couple of weeks. Then Thursday came.

Late Thursday morning I got a phone call from Connie, telling me that my friend, Jessie Whitten, her husband, a member of FBC Lake Monroe, had died. My plans changed.

Mr. Jessie was a graduate of West Point, the Army military academy. I sometimes listen to Family Comedy on Sirius Radio, and there is a comedian on there who jokes that he attended West Point for 1 year. It is supposed to be a 4-year program, where you cannot buy admission. It is tough.

After graduating from West Point, Jessie went to flight school, where he learned to fly fixed-wing aircraft, and he was shipped off to Vietnam. While in Vietnam, he flew low-altitude, night reconnaissance missions, trying to figure out where the bad guys were. In addition to having to worry about the weather, and the night vision limitations, and the low altitude; there were many nights when he would return to the base with bullet holes in his aircraft. He flew so low doing recon and taking pictures, that it was almost possible for farmers to damage his airplane with pitchforks. There were times he was sent out in his low altitude prop plane, to fire rockets to mark the location of the bad guys, so fast-flying jets, that no one could see in the dark, could come and bomb.

After Vietnam, Mr. Jessie came back to the states, where he qualified for rotary-wing aircraft. In other words, he learned to fly helicopters. He served in the army reserve until he retired. Then he worked as an engineer for a number of small Texas towns, who couldn’t afford their own engineers, until he retired a second time.

Jessie, married and divorced, met a lady on-line named Connie. They conversed back and forth for a while. Imagine her surprise when he called her one day and asked where she was. She told him, and he told her that he had driven from Texas to Debary to meet her. They met, dated, and they got married.

Jessie had known the Lord as a child, but had gotten away from him as he grew up. I’m not sure if it was in Texas, or when he was in Debary, but he decided that he and the Lord needed to get back together. Jessie started walking with the Lord again, and somehow, by the Lord’s direction, he ended up at Lake Monroe.

Over the past several years, I have gotten to know Connie, Jessie’s wife; but even more, I have gotten to know Jessie. Jessie and I share an attraction to Louis L’amore, a western writer. Jessie owned the whole collection of Louis L’amore books, leather-bound, that he would lend me as I finished them.

He had a few guns, he brought and showed me. I admit, I liked them. The greatest thing Jessie and I shared, however, was a love for the Lord, and a love for each other. I respected the heck out of the man; and even more, I loved him.

Shortly after he started attending the church, he started telling me he loved me. Now, I’m not very demonstrative, especially in public. I love Gladys, but it was only after we were married several years, that a youth caught me squeezing Gladys’ backside as Gladys got onto the church van. We Gregorys aren’t known for our public displays of affection.

Jessie started telling me he “loved me”, each week as he would leave church. At first I didn’t say anything but, “Thank you.” After a while I started telling this war-hardened, Vietnam vet, “you too.” Eventually I started saying, “I love you.” What a difference that makes. In this society, in this country, at this time, a Florida cracker, an Enterprise redneck and this Vietnam vet, standing near the door to the church each week, looking at each other and saying, “I love you”, to one another.

But, I believe that’s the way it’s supposed to be in the church. When you can find acceptance, admiration, and affection no where else, you should be able to find it in the church.

In our world, and in our country, and sadly, in many of our churches, there is so much anger, and bitterness, and vitriol. Is that what Jesus said we would be known for? Anger? Bitterness? Hatred? Daniel served in Babylon, after having been taken from his homeland, many of his people having been killed, and he wasn’t known for his anger. Paul served during the reign of Nero, yet he wasn’t known for his anger and bitterness. As a matter-of-fact, it was Paul who wrote, in Romans 13: