In Abilene, Texas, there was a young Hispanic woman known simply as the “Tea Lady.”  An employee of the local Luby’s Cafeteria, her only job was to push the teacart through the dining room and keep everyone’s tea glass filled.  Yet, she was so exceptionally good at it that she became known throughout the city for her professionalism and her simple way of treating each and every customer as though they were someone special. 

People constantly praised her work until her manager offered her a promotion to cashier.  More money.  More prestige.  Even a stool on which to sit instead of a cart to push.  But, she turned him down.  The story is told that she told him that there was nothing she loved more than serving people.  Whether she is still there or not I do not know.  What I do know is that I have rarely seen a person so in love with their job that they would turn down promotions and raises to keep it.  But, here is a woman who, for whatever reason, apparently defined success more in terms of how much she loved what she did and the excellence with which she did it than what she got for it in return other than the simple joy of being that single-heartedly devoted to something she loved. 

She stands in stark contrast to a man I know who is an attorney in a very prominent firm.  Ivy League credentials and a workaholic work ethic have him on the fast track for a partnership.  The only problem is, he hates his job.  “What would you do for a living if you could do anything you wanted?” I asked him about four years ago.  “I’d teach school,” he said.  “So, why don’t you become a teacher?” I asked.  You know the answer before I tell you, don’t you?  He can’t afford it.  As much as he hates his job, he loves the house and the cars and the social prominence it affords him and by which, apparently, he defines success or at least, he must think, others define him as successful. 

Which of those two people are you more like?  Be honest now.  No one has to know what you are thinking but you and God.  All of life is a trade off.  Every day we exchange one day of our short lives for something.  Is the price you are paying worth what you are getting in return?  Do you think of yourself as successful because of what you’ve accumulated or by what you’ve given? 

A good friend tells me of a cemetery in East Texas called Coon Cemetery, where all the locals bury their coon dogs when they die.  He says he’s not prone to get sentimental over animals but he couldn’t help but be touched by what he read on one of the tombstones.  “Here lies Old Red,” it read.  “He had a lot to give and he gave it all.”  Not bad for a dog.  Wouldn’t be bad for a human.  Will those who write our epitaphs someday be able to say as much about us? 

From an historical perspective, we’ve read the epitaph of the first century church this morning.  Let’s listen again to what it says.  “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and prayers.  Awe came upon everyone because many signs and wonders were being done . . ..  All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need.  Day by day, as they spent much time together . . . they broke bread . . . and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people.  And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.”  My paraphrase:  “They had a lot to give and they gave it all and God blessed it.”

A local minister once described Cliff Temple to another minister by saying, “they were in their heyday back in the ‘30’s and ‘40’s.”  My only question is, “by what standard do you define ‘heyday’?”  By the standards of the unredeemed world and, too often, the unredeemed mentality of the institutional church, he’s right.  Our heyday was when, at the pinnacle of Wallace Bassett’s career, all of these pews were filled.  But, is there another way of seeing things? 

We need to be sure we’re on the same page when we define the word “heyday.”  For one thing, we often forget to translate words common in one generation but almost unheard of in another.  That happened not too long ago at the dinner table.  Nancy’s mother, speaking of the incredible food we were eating said, “that’s larapin!”  It was her way of saying, “that food rocks!”  But, I had no idea what she was saying just like some of you don’t know what I meant by “rocks!”  Translated for all, both words mean, “that was great food!”  But, when she said “larapin,” I thought she was describing a medical procedure or something.  Sometimes we need a translator.  As we do now to help us define “heyday.”  Strictly speaking, when someone is in their heyday, they’ve reached the pinnacle, the top.  There is nowhere to go but down from there. 

If we are not careful, we’ll allow the standards by which others define “heyday” to become our own.  We’ll define ourselves and even the value of what goes on in this place by all the seats that have emptied over the decades.  And, if that is true, then our “heyday,” our pinnacle, was fifty or sixty years ago.  I am, however, absolutely convinced of two simple things.  First, I don’t believe God is as worried about these empty seats as he is about what is going on in the ones that are filled.  But, if we are not careful, we will define ourselves more by those who are not here than by what is going in the lives of those who are.  Which all leads to the second thing of which I’m convinced.  We’ve got a lot to give.  If we give it all, God will bless it.  And, when God blesses our gift, despite how others define us, we’ll know that we’ve achieved the point of spiritual maturity where we define success more in terms of how we are living, loving, giving, serving and worshipping than in terms of how many others want to do it with us.

Maybe God will someday fill these pews again.  Maybe he won’t.  Whether or not he does is not my greatest concern.  My greatest fear is ever coming to the place where I learn how to get what defines me as successful in the eyes of others at the expense of my values and convictions.  My greatest concern is that we continue building a caring and loving community of faith in which, just as the first church did, we devote ourselves to learning and preaching God’s truth, meeting the needs of others, worshipping authentically and trusting God to bless all of that as he sees fit.  If we will do that, others in this world who have grown weary of success that is materially rich but spiritually bankrupt will find our church as one to which they feel naturally attracted as a place to call home. 

A couple of years ago I told you about a wreck the boys and I had on the way to church in October, 1996.  As we went through the intersection of Abrams and Mockingbird an elderly gentlemen attempted to turn in front of us as we passed through the intersection.  We broadsided him so hard that both of our cars spun completely around.  As I stood there on the street corner trying to stop shaking and reflecting on how bad things could have been I realized that the mess that was once my car was a perfect picture of what my life had become.  I hated my job.  I wasn’t fulfilling my calling and I seemed to be going nowhere but down.  Right then and there I made a decision that has shaped everything that has happened since.  With more passion than I could possibly describe, I said to myself, in no uncertain terms, “I’m not going to live like this anymore.  Whatever I do, I’m going to find a new way to live that fulfills God’s purposes as best I understand them.” 

Two months later Nancy and I were engaged.  Three months after that I quit my job.  One year after that you called me as your pastor.  Please know that I would never encourage anyone to go broadside someone else’s car in order to find God’s new way for their life.  But, one thing that experience has taught methat I cannot ever allow myself to forget is that what happens to me is never as significant as the choices I make in response to what happens to me.

What has happened to Cliff Temple over this past thirty or forty years is not the most significant thing.  The most significant thing is what we now choose to do in order to devote ourselves to “the apostles teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and prayers . . . (to having) all things in common . . . (and) day by day. . . with glad and generous hearts, (and) praising God.”  As hungry as some poor souls in Bangladesh are for a bowl of rice there are souls in this city hungry for a community of faith like that to call home.  A church where God’s truth is studied and preached.  A place where believers think of their possessions not as assets for personal gain as much as gifts of God to be used to meet the needs of others.  A place where what people have in common with the risen Christ defines them more than the socio-economic, sexual and racial differences that might naturally divide them. 

A church is not necessarily in its heyday when all the pews are filled.  A church is in its heyday when it is fulfilling the mission to which God called it whether anyone responds positively to it or not.  God will always bless a church that single-heartedly devotes itself to the Lordship of the risen Christ and the fulfillment of his commission in the community where it finds itself. 

Next month will mark the fifty-eighth anniversary of the beginning of the Battle of Stalingrad in World War II.  Americans memorialize Pearl Harbor; Russians memorialize Stalingrad, a city about half the size of Dallas, where, from August, 1942 until January, 1943, the German Sixth army besieged the city.  Both Hitler and Stalin told their armies to fight until every man was dead if that is what it took.  It almost did.  When the battle was over more than 1,100,000 were dead making it the single bloodiest battle ever fought in recorded human history.  Much of the fighting was hand-to-hand, street-to-street, cellar-to-cellar, even sewer-to-sewer.  The fighting and dying was so miserable and horrific that the Germans nicknamed the Battle of Stalingrad the “War of the Rats.”  (David L. Robbins, War of the Rats, Bantam, 1999)

To read the history of that battle is to read the stories of Russian men and women who made sacrifices beyond human comprehension to ultimately succeed in conquering the German army.  Though many times the Germans had the upper hand, the Russians’ passion for saving their homeland united them in a single-hearted devotion that finally overwhelmed what should have destroyed them.  What the Germans did to them never mattered as much as what the Russian people were committed to doing in order to keep their country free from Hitler’s control and the course of human history was altered by their sacrifice.

The book of Acts records the story of the stoning of Stephen, one of the first deacons in the early church.  He had preached the gospel and the Jewish community put him to death for it.  Yet, even as he lay dying, he looked up to heaven and said, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit (and) do not hold this sin against them.”  (Acts 7:59-60)  You may recall that, while the people stoned Stephen, they laid their coats at the feet of a man named Saul, whose name was later changed to Paul when he was converted and who eventually wrote most of what we know of as the New Testament.  Stephen’s unwillingness to compromise his values and convictions, his faith, even when no one, not one, would stand by him, altered the course of human history. 

The only people who ever make a difference in this world are those who are so single-heartedly devoted to what they believe they cannot be bought.  So in love with what they do and so passionately committed to it they would rather die than sacrifice it on the altar of immediate praise and personal gratification.

The one thing that will ultimately determine how this church’s history is written will not be what happened to us when the community around us changed and altered what naturally would have been otherwise.  The one thing that will ultimately affect how this church’s history is written is whether, in single-hearted devotion and uncompromised unity, we faithfully worship Jesus as Lord, preach and live out his gospel, love one another and do whatever he calls us to do.  If we’ll do that, then, even if we never have more social or ecclesiastical prominence than the Tea Lady and no matter what else anyone may ever say about us, when we are all dead and gone, they will have to write our epitaph this way:  “They had a lot to give and they gave it all and God blessed it.”  What more could we really want?