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THE PREACHING LIFE:

Preaching Without Words

by Rob Prince

Every preacher knows the famous Francis Assisi quote (not “Beat Notre Dame!”) but “Preach the gospel at all times. Use words if necessary.” I think ol’ Francis would have been please by the sermons a couple of pastors recently preached when no words were used.

One of the preacher’s names is Tim. Tim’s kidneys had not worked for quite some time. The reason for his nonfunctioning kidneys is still a mystery. (And there is no truth to the rumor that growing up in Michigan caused his kidney trouble. In my mind when Tim was a card carrying member of the Detroit Tiger Fan Club, his kidneys worked perfectly fine. It’s when he started rooting for teams like the Atlanta Braves and Tennessee Titans that his kidneys started throwing a fit. (Hmmmm Dr. Welby, maybe I’m on to something . . .). In any event, Tim had been in kidney failure for some time. Each night he would hook himself up to a kidney dialysis machine. Obviously, the work of the dialysis machine was better than not having a dialysis machine, but it was not a permanent solution. Dialysis was not Tim’s friend.

Enter the other preacher: Molly.

Molly and Tim serve with me at Central Church. Molly is the Pastor of Christian Education. She likes to wear a shirt that says, “I preach like a girl.” Tim is the Pastor of Congregational Care. He likes to wear the aforementioned Atlanta Braves gear. Their desks are separated by a partition. One day, after Tim was speaking about his situation (not complaining, mind you. During the entire ordeal, I don’t believe I ever heard Tim complain even once. I would have been whining, grumbling, screaming and boo-hooing to whomever would listen . . . but not Tim), Molly, while sitting at her desk, asked over the top of the partition, “What’s needed to be a donor?”

A lot was needed: lots of tests, lots of doctors, lots of needles, lots of appointments, and lots of conversations.

Could a suitable kidney match for a Michigan born, Tennessee educated, Hawaii loving, Kansas living father and preacher really come from the twenty something, red headed, former missionary to Poland and Cornhusker preacher from the next desk over? Tim and Molly would find out. Test after test, appointment after appointment, these two preachers kept trusting that God was in control. At each point when the door opened Molly and Tim walked through. Their journey ended with them in separate operating rooms at the University of Kansas Medical Center where a kidney swap took place. Today Molly has one less kidney than she had in the summer, and Tim has a working kidney--something he hadn’t had for a long, long time. Goodbye dialysis machine and boxes and boxes of supplies, and sleepless nights of trying to rest while hooked up to a machine! Hello healthy life!

So Tim, through his life, preached a wonderful sermon on handling life’s trials with grace and faithfulness. And Molly preached a great sermon on selfless giving and faithful friendship. And I was left standing in awe--of the gentle spirit of Tim who has endured so much the last several years with a smile and praise to the Lord on his lips and of the self-sacrificing, noble gift from Molly. Even more, I am in awe of a wonderful God who brought these two preachers together; who always keeps His promises; who orchestrates and blesses and shows us how to love one another.

Old Francis of Assisi was right. Not just about Notre Dame, but about preaching. We preachers like to use words--sometimes too many words. While a finely worded sermon can be a beautiful thing, a finely focused life is even better. Tim and Molly preached that message to me without using a single word.