I had occasion to think about my dad today. Not that I don't think of him often, but today's remembrance was a bit different. It was at a men's breakfast at our church. The theme was "Your Favorite Verse" and the pastor shared his; if you're wondering it was either 1 Chronicles 11:22 or 2 Samuel 23:20, I forget. They both relate the same story.
When he was done, we were encouraged to share our favorite verse around our table. Each man shared a verse and a personal story about why that particular verse had impacted their lives. When it came to my turn, the choice was easy, but the realization was unexpected.
My brothers may take exception to some of this but I remember my dad as a man of contrasts: great physical strength and soft heart, woefully uneducated and mentally brilliant, prejudiced but not racist, possessed with a keen understanding of people and yet seemingly unaware of the needs of his own family. Even in Conversion he displayed this "Greate Divide," this dichotomy of character. Many of the people that knew him before he became a Christian commented on what a different man he was afterwards. One of my favorite stories about my dad was when he went out to lunch with his best friend, Bud Crane (one of the funniest people I have ever had the privilege of knowing) and Bud said to him "Harold, please. I'm begging you. Please let me get my order in BEFORE you try to save the waitress." It had never occurred to him to not share his new-found faith. Even Penn Jillette of the Penn & Teller comedy duo and confirmed, outspoken atheist has said he has no respect for people that don't proselytize and made the point: "How much do you have to hate somebody to believe that everlasting life is possible and not tell them that?" Check it out.
Early in my own Christian life, my brother Mark was taking a calligraphy class in High School and asked us for a quote or favorite verse for him to make into a plaque. I still have the plaque around somewhere, but I never realized that the verse I chose would impact my life so profoundly because it would remind me of my dad and his extraordinary dedication to the new life he'd been given.
Romans 1:16 - "For I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth; to the Jew first, and also to the Greek."
I find that looking back on my life, I am ashamed. Not of the Gospel, but of missed opportunities to "save the waitress" as it were, like my dad. As an introvert I find it awkward and difficult to initiate conversations, and perhaps even more so to insert spiritual references into one once it gets started. That is not to say that I feel one needs to be obnoxious about it. I certainly don't want to "bash people over the head with God" like:
"Nice day, isn't it?"
"Yes, and God made this day for you to hear the Good news that God hates sin and that you are a sinner and going to Hell so accept His free gift of Salvation to avoid spending eternity in endless conflagration where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth!"
I don't believe that my reluctance is because I would be embarrassed by the Gospel (which I'm not convinced is represented by the above conversation, by the way) as much as that I want my conversation to be a "word fitly spoken" like "apples of gold in pictures of silver" (Proverbs 25:11) The problem is I rarely look for those "pictures of silver" opportunities. How many times have I missed out on giving someone that golden apple because I was tired, or grumpy, or just not in the mood? Too many, I'm afraid. Some of the people I admire most, like Chuck Neighbors and Glenn Colangelo, are not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ. They pray in public places and talk openly about spiritual matters where people can hear (GASP), and are always ready with a silver basket of golden apples ready to give to anyone who is hungry. I pray I become more like them.
So that's my favorite verse, what's yours and why?
