THE PREACHING LIFE:
Move that Bus!

by Rob Prince

Life was quite normal within the hallowed confines of Central Church. I was putting the finishing touches on my Sunday morning sermon. The secretaries were busy getting the Sunday worship folder ready, the food pantry was about to open for business, the other pastors were taking their well-deserved day off—it was a mostly quiet Thursday morning. Like a James Bond beverage, however, our church was about to be shaken, not stirred.

The phone rang. It was the police dispatcher on the line. (For any newbie pastors reading this, here’s a general rule of thumb: in response to what the police dispatcher is about to say, the chances of you replying with an unexpected “Hallelujah!” are practically nil.) The Lenexa Police Department is our next door neighbor. Biblically speaking, you could say our stretch of road is Romans 6—8: Law and Grace (please excuse the feeble attempt at theological humor). The dispatcher explained that as she was entering the police station, she observed a public transportation bus smashed into our building. You read that right—a bus hit the building. How does a bus hit a building? Does it ram a red light, ignoring a car speeding through the intersection? I’d say, “Accidents happen.” Does it strike a jaywalking pedestrian? It would be tragic, but understandable. Perhaps it flattens a raccoon, bunny, or squirrel? By the road kill I’ve observed, this is a sad, but frequent occurrence in the animal kingdom. How can a bus crash into a stationary building? I’ve preached on how the church needs to “get moving,” but little did I realize that ours literally needed to move about six feet to the right.

Apparently the bus driver was planning on delivering some people across the street to the Social Services building, but found herself in the wrong lane. She proceeded into our parking lot. Unwilling to make a U-turn in our wide, open parking lot that is relatively free of buildings (there weren’t many cars either, being Thursday morning), the driver decided to go through our carport. Apparently the driver did not realize that the 10 foot tall bus probably couldn’t squeeze under our 9 foot tall carport (perhaps why it’s called a carport and not a busport . . . ). The driver learned a very important lesson that day that I believe will help her bus driving career for years to come: buses don’t duck. As a mother might say to her pre-potty trained child, “We had a little accident.”

A bewildered bus company inspector came to examine the carnage, pick up the assorted bus parts lying on the ground, and assure me the bus company would make our building “good as new.” For our building to be “good as new,” he’d have to do something about the Kool-Aid and coffee stained carpet, but I don’t think that is part of the deal. Still, I’m confident they will handle all the damages caused by the bus.

I tell you that to say, “Pastor, don’t you long to have the Holy Spirit crash into your church?” I long to have God—unexpectedly maybe, from “out of the blue” possibly—so break up our routine that we would be forever transformed. Of course when God smashes into our lives, there isn’t collateral damage. When God breaks in, there is power and glory. I heard of one prayer meeting (a few years back) when 120 people gathered in an upper room, praying for God’s Spirit to come and God burst in such a powerful and unmistakable way—the world was forever changed! Read all about it in Acts 2. Don’t you long to have God come in your church in a powerful way? Don’t you pray that your people would be so moved and so filled with the Spirit that others would wonder just what is going on down at that church?

Pentecostal power is what all of our churches need! As you know, when God comes it is no accident!

Rob Prince is the senior pastor of Central Church of the Nazarene in Lenexa, Kansas.