“No Sir. You Were A Real…”
I love a good story. Listening to a good story teller is one of my favorite ways to invest my time. Reading a good story is a delightful way to permit time go by with my interference with it. Getting lost in a good story is one of the best ways I know to get lost. Allowing the teller of a good story, whether though the spoken word or the written one, to take me into an adventure of their creation and my imaginative participation is just one of the best things there is. Anywhere! Anytime! The absolute best lullaby for the ending of a day is listening to the voice of a well told story, written in vividly descriptive words, ushering me into a world of dreams that will refresh and renew my worn out self in preparation for tomorrow.
One of my favorite story tellers was a well-known preacher/teacher named Dr. Fred Craddock, Jr. He passed on not so long ago. He was the author of numerous books during his years of teaching in the Chandler Divinity School of Emory University. He was a wonderful, highly sought after, speaker. That which made his sermons so memorable were the stories he included. He had the ability to tell stories that allowed his interpretations of the scripture to be real and vivid in the minds of his listeners. In fact, I could write a very lengthy piece just recounting some of the many stories I heard from him. Probably, the highest compliment that I could pay to his memory is to say to you that I remember so many of his stories; some I heard more than twenty years ago.
A few days ago I filled in as the leader of a support group for one of my colleagues. My colleague was out-of-town so I facilitated the group in her absence. As I began the meeting a story from Dr. Craddock came to my mind, just begging to be told, so I obliged. He said, “One time I was going to fill-in as the preacher for a friend of mine at his church one Sunday morning. He was gone and I was delighted to take his place. As I was sitting in the pew, awaiting my time to preach, I noticed that a pane was broken out of one of the windows in the sanctuary. In order to close the hole left by the broken glass someone had cut a piece of cardboard to size and had taped it over the hole. So, when I got up to preach I called attention to the cardboard and said, “Now today I am kind of like that piece of cardboard. I am not the real thing. I am just filling in.’” He continued by saying, “Well, when I finished preaching and the folks were leaving I noticed one little lady that was holding back from the rest of the folks; obviously desiring to speak to me. When she got to me she said, ‘Preacher I want you to know you were not like that piece of cardboard at all. No sir. You were a real pane.”
Anyway. Sometimes a good story is just waiting to be retold. And a good story teller needs to be remembered.