Welcome to the “Front-Porch.”
I’m glad that, for us, Fathers’ Day doesn’t just cover one day. That allows us another story or two.
It’s true that sometimes people may not particularly like what we preach. But I’ve never received a death threat.
But I know a man who did.
Preacher Miller not only received a death threat, but also his accusers said it would happen before he ever stepped down from the pulpit.
Back in the 1950s, he went to preach way up in the hills of Kentucky. Folks in those hills back then were rough – and that’s a severe understatement.
But in Preacher Miller’s way of thinking, that put them in greater need of the gospel, and nobody was better equipped to deliver than the Georgia preacher-man.
Preacher Miller understood that when the Lord sent him to preach, he didn’t say to go preach to a bunch of angels flying around in the sky. No, preacher, you go way down in the valley. You preach to those people down there, people such as you and me.
That old-time preacher always wielded a two-edged sword: On one blade, he carried an undying courage, and on the other was a strong conviction in what he believed.
Preacher Miller had one belief, in particular, that he knew could lead him into trouble. It involved Christians’ involvement in certain worldly organizations that he felt required them to compromise their faith.
Such was likely the case with the church in Pergamos, with many of their members way back then being part of various guilds associated with their jobs (Revelation 2:12-17).
The preacher believed being involved with certain of these groups would cause a conflict of allegiance, forcing him to step into the pulpit with that two-edged sword and try to sway them in what he considered the right way.
About half the folks in this back-woods church up in Kentucky, where he was preaching, were heavily involved with such an organization, putting Preacher Miller in a position to jeopardize any popularity he had. His unpopularity wasn’t like anything I might enjoy. No, his could get him killed, right in the middle of the 20th century.
Undeterred, he announced to the congregation one night in his booming, rafter-shaking voice:
“Tomorrow night,” he announced, “if you’ll all come back, you’ll hear me preach a sermon that you may not want to hear …” And he went on to lay out his topic.
He knew as soon as he belted out that announcement that the tide was going to turn against him. Sure enough, a crew of those mountain men had a stern warning waiting for him after services. But he knew he had no choice but to preach it. A greater authority told him to declare “the whole counsel of God.”
Like it or not, he was about to jump into that “whole counsel” headfirst.
When he left the building that night, he found a pay phone and made what he knew might be his last call to Grandma, who was waiting for him back home in LaGrange.
“Zona Belle,” he said, “if I don’t make it back home, get the best lawyer you can and have them look into this.”
I’ve often wondered how Grandma made it through the next twenty-four hours as she waited for the next call from Granddad. I expect she waited with a healthy portion of prayer and faith.
The next afternoon – long before the preacher was scheduled to deliver his sermon – a car-load of big, country Kentuckians paid him a little visit at the hotel where he was staying.
Three big men jumped out and approached Preacher Miller threateningly. They had a message, and the preacher knew the bottom line: If he wanted to live, he would have to discard that sermon he planned to preach and pick another one, a "softer" one.
He made a decision, and he knew that night he would have to live or die with the consequences.
“Preacher Miller” continues next week.
Coach Steven Ray Bowen served as a teacher and basketball coach at Red Oak High from 1998-2012 and recently came out of retirement twice for teaching tours at Ferris and Waxahachie High Schools. He and his wife Marilyn (the “amazin’ blonde”) have slowed down some of their travels and reconvened in their evangelistic work with the Church of Christ of Red Oak at Uhl/Ovilla Roads, in addition to Coach’s work as a writer and author, including the working to publish “Crossing The Georgia Line” that ran in the Ellis County Press. Call or text (972) 824-5197, email coachbowen1984@gmail.com, and see frontporchgospel.com.