Christmas! A Pastor's Joy!

This past Sunday Belinda and I went to our church's early service then afterward motored east, to the town of Mt. Pleasant, TX., where our nephew serves as a Minister of Music and was leading his church in their annual Christmas pageant. Due to my schedule as a pastor I have rarely been able to join the family for trips like this, so my mind was filled with thoughts of 'changed opportunities' as we drove through the sunny afternoon countryside. Once there we took our seats and I began a conversation with the little girl next to me. After a few pleasantries she informed me we were sitting in a 'snow zone.' I looked at her curiously as she added, "you will need your poncho under your seat." Still not understanding, she continued, "it's real snow, and its wet."  I smiled, more at her enthusiasm over the thought of 'snow' falling inside a Texas church, then reached for my poncho promising her I'd be ready.

Now strangely, as the music began tp play, without prompting I felt a lump swelling in my throat and began fighting back tears. Surprised, I wondered where this was coming from. Seemingly nowhere! But still, the emotions continued through the entire production. Not sobbing, just a sentimental swell over each sight and sound of familiar songs shared by ordinary men, women and children worshipping Christ as they sang, danced and spoke of the good news of His birth.

Since stepping aside as a Senior Pastor I have been asked hundreds of times, "Pastor, how are you doing?" Each time my reply is the same, 'surprisingly well," I have said, which is true. I have no regrets and am only excited about our church's future, our wonderful new pastor and our steady, capable and faithful church leadership. Yet, in the sanctuary of this small church in Mt. Pleasant, it all hit me. For years I have loved being a pastor at Christmas. I have loved everything about children's services, pageants, special productions, and, of course, Christmas Eve services as I know this is one time people are glad to come worship and remember by listening to a story that never grows old, 'behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy for all people.' For what Pastor doesn't love the opportunity to share this message with people ready to hear it!

And so, as I sat there - not able to contain my memories of all those Christmases I have known, or of the services I have led and children's messages I have shared - I could not help but cry. Not from regret, but from both joy and a bit of sadness that this, at least this part of my life, was now passed.

But then... (and don't we love it when God brings those words into our life) ...but then God brought me home to Monday in Plano, where in the afternoon I broke from my studying to make my way to the Shops at Willow Bend and the familiar store of Dillards, where I have frequented the men's department for years, knowing most, if not all, who work there.  After making my purchase, and still a bit melancholy, at his query I mentioned to the clerk waiting on me that I had retired as pastor, and would not be preaching a Christmas series. Of course he teased me by adding, "and, shucks, I was going to come hear you this year." After we both laughed at this I walked out by way of the suit department to see my good friend, Loyd, who works there as a salesman. Loyd is from Jamaica and has a wonderful personality, and I always look forward to seeing him. As I passed he was standing near a few other's of his department - and I commented, "Looks like we have the first team here today." Loyd, always beaming, said, 'Pastor!  It is good to see you today.'  'And how are you?  Are you ready for your Christmas?  Do you have your messages ready?' I paused to tell Loyd that i was not preaching this Christmas, but with not a moment's hesitation this is what he said...

'But that is not true, pastor. You are always preaching. In fact, I have never known you not doing so. You are preaching today by speaking to me and these other employees, and by greeting us with your smile.  So this is what I say to you this Christmas. May the peace and joy of Christ be yours this day and always as you never tire of being who you are, Pastor Sam, a preacher of the good news of Jesus Christ.'

At this I stopped in my tracks and looked into Loyd's eyes as he beamed back at me with his. I turned to see the young man standing next to him. I knew him. He was in a suit, a new employee, and I knew that I knew him from somewhere. So I thanked Loyd, of course, then turned to walk away.  But then, within a few steps, it hit me. In an instant I turned back to the young man to say, "I know where I know you from! You took my food order at Baker Brothers for years."  "Am I right?" He seemed surprised at first, but then smiled sheepishly and said, 'that's what I love about you, pastor, YOU know people and you know ME.' I smiled back at him and added, "God knows you, too. Much, much more than I do! And... he loves you."

At this there was an awkward pause - for us all - one finally broken by Loyd, who said, 'So Merry Christmas, Pastor. I think you've found your joy once more. And... your way back!'

Driving home after this I passed by my beloved ParkwayHills, and there I thanked God for my friend, Loyd. For, yes, indeed! A pastor's joy is not in a place, but in a message. A message which never grows old. Good news! Great joy! For all people.

Including me and you, too!

Pastor Sam