I’m working on a post about lies people believe about pastors… but feeling the crunch I thought I’d share this one I wrote a while ago.
He was frail and hunched over his cane as he walked. His steps were small and deliberate, the toil of years in each motion. He griped the pew at his side for support and I reached to support his arm as we walked to the stage. Every step seemed to be a struggle, as if he had carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, as some great colossus who had raised the staff in the wilderness providing pathways, water, bread, and victories. I walked by his side privileged that I was permitted to walk next to him and aid him in the baring of his cup.
When we reached the front, his legs were weary and his eyes near pleading. “I’m going to need to sit down” he said, almost in an embarrassed tone. The long walk from the back to the front of the sanctuary was hard on his frail frame. Quickly I arranged a bench for him to sit on, and he waited his turn to scale the mountain and intercede for those being ordained.
The chairman of deacons and I helped the elderly prophet climb up to the pulpit stage. At the top, I placed a stool behind him and whispered, “there is a bench if you would like to sit, we’ll move it in front of each man while you pray for them.” As if he could not hear me he reached his hand out and laid it on the back of the first candidate’s head. He pulled the man close and prayed with tears pleading for God’s spirit to rest on the man. Then he would repeat the action for the wife. Six men in all, he prayed for each in this manner. I could not hear all that he said, but as he left each man, they seemed acutely aware that some great work had just transpired in front of them. All six men wept.
The prophet finished his blessing and began the trudge back down the stage heading back to his seat. As we walked back, I began to realize why this man was so frail. He had been holding the staff of God in the air for years while the battle raged below. The evidence of a power beyond the hand of man was upon him and the Spirit of the LORD full in him.
Someone said to me afterwards, “that was a good deed you did helping [the elderly pastor] up there.” My only response, “no mam, that was a good deed he did, letting me walk with him.”
I can’t help but wonder if Joshua felt this way about Moses toward the end. Did Joshua stand beside him as he climbed themountainofGodto see into the promised land? Was he privileged to hold the arm of an ancient warrior of God? Did he realize the gravity of Spirit that lived in the man he stood next too? If he did, he had one of the most sobering experiences any man has ever had.