“Neither is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives everyone life and breath and all things”
I am a few hours away from being inaugurated as the sixth president of Lancaster Bible College | Capital Seminary & Graduate School. My shoes are polished, my academic gown is waiting, my inaugural address prepared. I will step onto a stage, participate in an investiture ceremony, give an address, and enjoy formal recognition for a role I have held for 817 days. Yes, COVID upset the academic apple cart.
My brief words this morning will include this quote from a man I never met, but whose leadership and leadership writings have definitely shaped mine:
“The first responsibility of a leader is to define reality, the last is to say thank you. In between the two the leader is a servant and a debtor.”
“The last is to say thank you.”
I have written two doctoral dissertations. My first, completed after an arduous seven-year process, exhibits one glaring omission: THANKS! Like a two-year-old who wants to prove “I can do it myself” there were no words of appreciation for those who contributed to that academic achievement. Talk about a gratitude gaffe!
Was this a sin of omission or commission? Looking back, it was both. I was ignorant, but I was also self-dependent and obviously self-centered.
I don’t want to repeat that episode in life.
Today is a different story. My inaugural address begins with thanks, but saying “Thank you” is a little tricky in a moment like this. To thank EVERYONE is to thank no one, but to thank EVERY ONE . . . . Well, I don’t think we have that kind of time.
As I have reflected the last couple of days, my thoughts have coalesced around God, “self-made”, and what I can only describe as his Blessing Brigade, an enumerable cohort who have poured into my life and, humanly-speaking, have brought me to this point. I want to say a few words about each.
Thank you, Lord!
“What do you have that you have not been given?” Apostle Paul, thank you for that rhetorical question. The answer is obvious. As you said to the folks on Mars Hill, God alone gives everyone life and breath and all things.
I know me. I know where I was and I know where I am, and there is only one explanation for that — God Almighty! Thank you, Lord. “For from him and to him and through him are all things. To him be the glory forever!” Romans 11:36
I am not Self-Made!
Right now, in my mind’s eye, I can see the words tattooed across the fingers: S-E-L-F M-A-D-E. They are statement of achievement and visible reminder for a very talented Hot Rod builder, who began with little and built it into A LOT.
They are also erroneous. I like to juxtapose this car-customizing shooting star with the words of Eugene Peterson in his book, Practice Resurrection. Peterson writes,
We are conceived in an act of relationship, a conception followed by a nine-month apprenticeship of total intimacy in the womb. We are not ourselves by ourselves. We have our origin by means of a relationship between our parents. After coming out of the womb we find it easy going for a couple of years. We have all our needs cared for, food and warmth and affection. We are one with our mother at her breast. We are one with our father, riding on his shoulders. Our siblings entertain us, playing and laughing with us. But it isn't long before we begin to explore the illusions of making it on our own, of getting our own way, of imposing our will on another. (Eugene Peterson, Practice Resurrection, 245)
That friends, is just the beginning. Our lives leave a trail of beneficent breadcrumbs from those who have contributed to us directly and indirectly. Hey, just trace the journey of that cup of coffee in your hands and then tell me, “I am self-made.”
God’s blessing brigade!
Someone said, “If there is a blessing, there is a Blesser!” Amen to that! But that is “Blesser” with a capital “B.” The headwaters of kindness always lead back to God. “Every good and perfect gift comes from above,” James tells us (James 1:17). It is just that God utilizes human instruments to convey his goodness, a group I am tagging my “Blessing Brigade.”
This group is enormous and any effort I make will come up short. Still, let me start:
My father who taught me to swing a hammer.
My mother who taught me to pray.
My brother who taught me a love for turning wrenches.
Mrs. Moore (my first grade teacher) who showed me that school is a good place.
Mrs Walker (my fourth grade teacher) who demonstrated her love with a BIG HUG on a Halloween night (another story for another time), and unintentionally taught me how important it is to love students.
Mr. Walker (no relation), a high school teacher who saw something in me I never saw in myself.
Dr. Crichton, my college president, who trusted me with a “big assignment.”
And then they are friends:
Raymond, my fifty-year friend, constant encourage-er, two-decade ministry partner, and life-long kingdom colleague.
Jimmy, who told me (for years), “I pray for you every day!” (And did!) And Riney who joined me in prayer every-other-week — for ten years!
Chuck, a master mechanic who says, “Call me anytime!” I do!
Dondi and Mark, fellow travelers on the Ph.D. journey, who are friends for life.
Jay and Andy, my reading buddies.
I have a thousand books written by a thousand authors who have devoted innumerable hours to my edification, and most will never know their impact.
Today, I read a program that was not prepared by me, step on a stage I did not build, listen to music I did not write, played by instrumentalists with gifts I do not have, and will be celebrated by people, many of whom I do not know.
Who am I without those with whom I work? Ha ha! Absolutely nothing!
And then there is my family: Shannan, our children, their spouses, our grands . . . who bring joys inexpressible . . . .
I am a dependent man. I am a blessed man. I am a grateful man.
I am NOT a self-made man.
Not to us, Lord, not to us,
but to your name give glory
because of your faithful love, because of your truth.
Psalm 115:1