Somebody Up There Likes You
Preaching
Distinctively Different
We are talking about encouragement. Carl Joseph was an exceptional athlete for his Florida high school. In fact, he earned thirteen varsity letters in football, basketball, and track. He stands six feet tall, weighs 180 pounds, and can jump six feet high, stuff a basketball, and throw the shot--put. Not bad for a young man with only one leg. Carl attributes his phenomenal success to the encouragement of his mother. She told him early in his life that the biggest handicap he would face was other people telling him what he could not do. His mother encouraged him to listen to the inner voice within that challenged him to be all he could be.
We are talking about encouragement. Nat came home from work, thoroughly discouraged, fired from his job at the custom house. Most distressing was his task of telling his wife Sophia. Her reaction took him by complete surprise. With an exclamation of joy, she said, "Now you can write your book." "Sure," he said, "and what will we live on while I'm writing it?" To his amazement, she opened a drawer and pulled out a substantial sum of money. "Where on earth did you get that?" he exclaimed. "I have always known you were a man of genius," she told him. "I knew that someday you would write a masterpiece. So every week, out of the money you gave me for housekeeping, I saved a little bit. So here is enough to last us for a whole year." So, Nat wrote his novel. Nat - Nathaniel Hawthorne who wrote The Scarlet Letter.1
We are talking about encouragement. William Bausch, the creative teller of tales, relates what seemingly was an autobiographical story in his early development. "In the first grade, Miss Grant said that my purple tepee wasn't realistic enough, that purple was no color at all for a tent, that purple was the color of people when they died and that my drawing was not good enough to hang with the others. I walked back to my seat, head bowed. With a black crayon, I brought nightfall to my purple tent in the middle of the afternoon."
In second grade, Mrs. Abate said, "Draw anything." She didn't care what. I left my paper blank and when she came around to my desk, my heart beat like a tom--tom. She touched my head with her small hand and in a soft voice said, "The snowfall. How clean and white and beautiful."2
How easily events could have gone the other way. Carl could have sat home with one leg folded under him in self pity. Nat could have gone from job to job for which he was ill--fitted and a masterpiece would never have been. A second grader may have heard another squelching voice of discouragement on a life--long journey and been sent off with unfulfilled potential.
We are talking about encouragement. But what happens when that word of encouragement is delayed? Dante Gabriel Rossetti, the famous nineteenth--century poet and artist, was once approached by an elderly man. The old fellow had some sketches and drawings that he wanted Rossetti to look at and tell him if they were any good, or if they at least showed potential talent. Rossetti looked them over carefully. After the first few, he knew that they were worthless, showing not the least sign of artistic talent. But Rossetti was a kind man, and he told the elderly man as gently as possible that the pictures were without much value and showed little talent. He was sorry, but he could not lie to the man.
The visitor was disappointed, but seemed to expect Rossetti's judgment. He then apologized for taking up Rossetti's time, but would he just look at a few more drawings - these done by a young art student? Rossetti looked over the second batch of sketches and immediately became enthusiastic over the talent they revealed. "These," he said, "oh, these are good. This young student has great talent. He should be given every help and encouragement in his career as an artist. He has a great future if he will work hard and stick to it." Rossetti could see that the old fellow was deeply moved. "Who is this fine young artist?" he asked. "Your son?" "No," said the old man sadly. "It was me forty years ago. If only I had heard your praise then! For you see, I got discouraged and gave up too soon."3
We are talking about encouragement. But what if affirmation is delayed or does not arrive at all? In 1893 a young man enrolled at the theological seminary at Tiflis. For five years, he studied to prepare himself for the ministry until he was expelled by the seminary for reading a book thought to be inappropriate. The young man then turned his brilliant mind and boundless energy in another direction - politics. He, more than any one single person, was responsible for the imprisonment and murder of more than 20,000,000 people. His name was Josef Stalin. The benefits of encouragement can be astounding. The lack thereof can be tragic. But the worst case scenario is discouragement.
When encouragement fails to arrive and discouragement does, then enter the basement people. In Joyce Landorf's book Balcony People, she talks about "balcony and basement people." Envision the mind as housed in a clear glass or circle. The bottom two--thirds is filled with the dark, murky waters of our unconscious minds. The top third is filled with the pure, clear oxygen of our conscious minds.4 Lurking in the dark murky waters of our unconscious mind is family or friends, living or dead, who continually reach up through that black water, grab us, and pull us under. Freudian psychologists call these people "basement people."
"Basement people" are the nay--sayers. They are the pessimists who have said, "You can't do this or that," or "You'll never amount to anything." These are the "sticky" people. They always are running others down by their snide remarks and innuendos. We are around them about five minutes and they have "stuck" to us all over, causing us to feel the need for a bath. These are the ones who invite us over each day for a piping hot cup of despair. They squelch any good word and often play the game of "ain't it awful!" These are those who emerge from the murky waters and remind us of the worst in ourselves and can drown us in negativism. They are the "basement people."
I have had more than my share of "basement people" some of whom did not even intend to be so. One said, "Preacher, every sermon you preach is better than the next one!" Another said, "That sermon was like water to a drowning man." Or what about the other who said, "Everything you said, preacher, applies to someone I know."
Sometimes I feel like the minister who was visiting West--minster Abbey in London and was told, "England's great sleep within these walls." He thought out loud more than he intended when he said, "Same as my church back home." One of the early kings of England was named Ethelred the Unready. I think I have served as pastor to some of his relatives. We all have had our "basement people." Even Martin Luther described his own spiritual journey as like a drunken peasant who struggled to get onto a donkey only to slide off on the other side. Such can be the effects of the "basement people" upon our lives.
Paul certainly had his "basement people" in Thessalonica. About 50 C.E., Paul and his teammates, Silas and Timothy, arrived at this metropolitan trade center and capital of Macedonia. Thessalonica had a Jewish synagogue and a center for emperor worship. The city was famous for its two mystery fertility cults, honoring Dionysus and Orpheus, which were known for their sexual and ecstatic indulgences (v. 9). In Acts 16:17--18, Luke tells the story of the beginning of the church. As was his habit, Paul first went to the synagogue and taught there, and people turned to faith in Jesus. His success was met with severe opposition, and the three men fled for their lives at midnight after only a few weeks.
From Thessalonica he went to Berea and the opposition party followed. They caused such a stir there that Paul had to leave. He then went on to Athens and later to Corinth. Silas and Timothy stayed at Berea. Apparent failure in Thessalonica, failure in Berea, and, some say, failure in Athens. In Corinth Silas and Timothy joined Paul and gave to him a positive report of all the good things that were happening in Thessalonica. Paul was encouraged by their report and wrote 1 Thessalonians to encourage and confirm the faith of the young Christians. This letter is the first New Testament book written as we know it.
Paul is encouraged by the work, labor, and endurance of the Thessalonians. They had not only received the missionary team but imitated them as well, to the point of becoming a model for the other churches in Asia. Everyone was talking about how they had turned from idols and turned to faith in Christ. They were the second church in Asia but first in example. How was the young struggling church able to overcome the loss of their founding pastor, a heathen culture, and severe persecution? In verses 6 and 7, Paul reiterates that they had followed his example and must now become an example to others. It was the law of the echo, what you send out returns to you. Paul was their encourager, and they in turn became his. The ill effects of negative, pessimistic "basement people" were overcome by encouragement. If we wish to break the destructive cycle of negative defeatism, we must become "balcony people."
Joyce Landorf goes on to talk about the "balcony people." These are the ones who live in the top one--third of our conscious minds, in the sphere of clear air wherein is the clean and pure oxygen. These are the ones who are not merely sitting there but practically hanging over the rail, cheering us on. These are our spiritual cheerleaders who continually shout, "You can do it! I believe in you! Persevere! Hang in there!"
Doesn't your mind explode with mental images of those in your past who have been your encouragers? I remember Mrs. Stone who won me to Christ. I remember words from my parents, grandparents, in--laws, and family that have sustained me. Pastors like Sidney Argo, teachers like Swan Haworth, friends like Harry Eades; the list is endless!
Some spoke the truth in love. I overheard my twelfth grade English teacher say to someone, "There is no telling what Gary Carver could do if he were not so lazy." She spoke the truth in love, she was a "balcony person."
Think of your past! Who are your encouragers? Who are your "balcony people"? Some of you may need to make a telephone call or write a letter of gratitude to those who have encouraged you. Quote to them Philippians 1:3, "Every time I think of you, I thank my God." You have had those spiritual cheerleaders, haven't you? Aren't you grateful that they have been there, applauding your success, forgiving your failures, and giving you another chance? A young preacher was so frightened at the delivery of his first sermon that he prepared three other sermons, just in case. He preached all four sermons in seven minutes. But he was encouraged by those around him. His name is Billy Graham.
Think of today. There are some right now, hanging over the rail, cheering you on. The Apostle Paul is there. The head cheerleader, of course, is our Lord himself, encouraging you. "Go for it! You can do it in my power, will, and love." Somebody up there likes you!
But let us take our thinking a step further. Are there not people in your sphere of influence to whom you can be an encourager, a "balcony person"? Isn't there someone to whom you can intentionally go to give what has been given to you?
Albert Schweitzer was once asked, "Why did you leave your status as a world renowned musician and world renowned theologian to go as a missionary to Africa?" His response was classic. He said, "It was about time I started returning something to the stream that had nourished me so." Is it about time we stop parking on someone else's dime and start feeding the meter ourselves? Is it time for us to start leaving time on the meter for someone else? Is it time for us to start being an encourager, a spiritual cheerleader, for someone else? You can be. You can start today.
It is our choice. We can be a "basement person," wallowing around in pessimism, griping, and grumbling, pulling ourselves down and everyone around us. Or, we can be a "balcony person," who encourages others only to receive serendipitously that which we have been giving to others.
For most of my 34 years in the ministry I have had people ask me, "Are you any relation to that old Preacher Carver who used to preach around Arab, Alabama?" "Yes, I am proud to say that he was my grandfather." My response then would bring the litany of stories about how my grandfather had touched their lives through encouragement. Roland Clemons approached me at a State Convention meeting. "I was picking cotton," he said, "with your grandparents. I turned to the old man and said, 'Preacher Frank, I think that God is calling me into the ministry.' " "Are you sure?" my grandfather asked. "I think so," Clemons responded. "Well, son, put down that pick sack right now and get to it!" "I lived with them for months," he said. "That old man would sit up most all night talking Bible and then plow all the next day. He was my early theological training. He was my seminary before I went to seminary."
In 1964, on the day before I entered college, we buried my grandfather. In the church he built with his own hands, his funeral service was conducted by six ministers, all of whom he had helped to start in the ministry. Seven if you include his son. Eight if you include me. I still have in my office the last postcard he wrote to me. In shaky script the concluding words were, "I have prayed that it be God's will for me to hear you preach God's Word." He died within two weeks. I entered the ministry thirteen months later. God did not answer his prayer. Grandpa has never heard me preach, or has he?
____________
1. Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen, Chicken Soup For The Soul (Deerfield Beach, Florida: Health Communications, 1993), p. 213.
2. William J. Bausch, A World Of Stories (Mystic, Connecticut: Twenty--Third Publications, 1998), p. 331.
3. Bausch, op. cit., p. 301.
4. Joyce Landorf, Balcony People (Waco: Word, 1984), p. 33.
We are talking about encouragement. Nat came home from work, thoroughly discouraged, fired from his job at the custom house. Most distressing was his task of telling his wife Sophia. Her reaction took him by complete surprise. With an exclamation of joy, she said, "Now you can write your book." "Sure," he said, "and what will we live on while I'm writing it?" To his amazement, she opened a drawer and pulled out a substantial sum of money. "Where on earth did you get that?" he exclaimed. "I have always known you were a man of genius," she told him. "I knew that someday you would write a masterpiece. So every week, out of the money you gave me for housekeeping, I saved a little bit. So here is enough to last us for a whole year." So, Nat wrote his novel. Nat - Nathaniel Hawthorne who wrote The Scarlet Letter.1
We are talking about encouragement. William Bausch, the creative teller of tales, relates what seemingly was an autobiographical story in his early development. "In the first grade, Miss Grant said that my purple tepee wasn't realistic enough, that purple was no color at all for a tent, that purple was the color of people when they died and that my drawing was not good enough to hang with the others. I walked back to my seat, head bowed. With a black crayon, I brought nightfall to my purple tent in the middle of the afternoon."
In second grade, Mrs. Abate said, "Draw anything." She didn't care what. I left my paper blank and when she came around to my desk, my heart beat like a tom--tom. She touched my head with her small hand and in a soft voice said, "The snowfall. How clean and white and beautiful."2
How easily events could have gone the other way. Carl could have sat home with one leg folded under him in self pity. Nat could have gone from job to job for which he was ill--fitted and a masterpiece would never have been. A second grader may have heard another squelching voice of discouragement on a life--long journey and been sent off with unfulfilled potential.
We are talking about encouragement. But what happens when that word of encouragement is delayed? Dante Gabriel Rossetti, the famous nineteenth--century poet and artist, was once approached by an elderly man. The old fellow had some sketches and drawings that he wanted Rossetti to look at and tell him if they were any good, or if they at least showed potential talent. Rossetti looked them over carefully. After the first few, he knew that they were worthless, showing not the least sign of artistic talent. But Rossetti was a kind man, and he told the elderly man as gently as possible that the pictures were without much value and showed little talent. He was sorry, but he could not lie to the man.
The visitor was disappointed, but seemed to expect Rossetti's judgment. He then apologized for taking up Rossetti's time, but would he just look at a few more drawings - these done by a young art student? Rossetti looked over the second batch of sketches and immediately became enthusiastic over the talent they revealed. "These," he said, "oh, these are good. This young student has great talent. He should be given every help and encouragement in his career as an artist. He has a great future if he will work hard and stick to it." Rossetti could see that the old fellow was deeply moved. "Who is this fine young artist?" he asked. "Your son?" "No," said the old man sadly. "It was me forty years ago. If only I had heard your praise then! For you see, I got discouraged and gave up too soon."3
We are talking about encouragement. But what if affirmation is delayed or does not arrive at all? In 1893 a young man enrolled at the theological seminary at Tiflis. For five years, he studied to prepare himself for the ministry until he was expelled by the seminary for reading a book thought to be inappropriate. The young man then turned his brilliant mind and boundless energy in another direction - politics. He, more than any one single person, was responsible for the imprisonment and murder of more than 20,000,000 people. His name was Josef Stalin. The benefits of encouragement can be astounding. The lack thereof can be tragic. But the worst case scenario is discouragement.
When encouragement fails to arrive and discouragement does, then enter the basement people. In Joyce Landorf's book Balcony People, she talks about "balcony and basement people." Envision the mind as housed in a clear glass or circle. The bottom two--thirds is filled with the dark, murky waters of our unconscious minds. The top third is filled with the pure, clear oxygen of our conscious minds.4 Lurking in the dark murky waters of our unconscious mind is family or friends, living or dead, who continually reach up through that black water, grab us, and pull us under. Freudian psychologists call these people "basement people."
"Basement people" are the nay--sayers. They are the pessimists who have said, "You can't do this or that," or "You'll never amount to anything." These are the "sticky" people. They always are running others down by their snide remarks and innuendos. We are around them about five minutes and they have "stuck" to us all over, causing us to feel the need for a bath. These are the ones who invite us over each day for a piping hot cup of despair. They squelch any good word and often play the game of "ain't it awful!" These are those who emerge from the murky waters and remind us of the worst in ourselves and can drown us in negativism. They are the "basement people."
I have had more than my share of "basement people" some of whom did not even intend to be so. One said, "Preacher, every sermon you preach is better than the next one!" Another said, "That sermon was like water to a drowning man." Or what about the other who said, "Everything you said, preacher, applies to someone I know."
Sometimes I feel like the minister who was visiting West--minster Abbey in London and was told, "England's great sleep within these walls." He thought out loud more than he intended when he said, "Same as my church back home." One of the early kings of England was named Ethelred the Unready. I think I have served as pastor to some of his relatives. We all have had our "basement people." Even Martin Luther described his own spiritual journey as like a drunken peasant who struggled to get onto a donkey only to slide off on the other side. Such can be the effects of the "basement people" upon our lives.
Paul certainly had his "basement people" in Thessalonica. About 50 C.E., Paul and his teammates, Silas and Timothy, arrived at this metropolitan trade center and capital of Macedonia. Thessalonica had a Jewish synagogue and a center for emperor worship. The city was famous for its two mystery fertility cults, honoring Dionysus and Orpheus, which were known for their sexual and ecstatic indulgences (v. 9). In Acts 16:17--18, Luke tells the story of the beginning of the church. As was his habit, Paul first went to the synagogue and taught there, and people turned to faith in Jesus. His success was met with severe opposition, and the three men fled for their lives at midnight after only a few weeks.
From Thessalonica he went to Berea and the opposition party followed. They caused such a stir there that Paul had to leave. He then went on to Athens and later to Corinth. Silas and Timothy stayed at Berea. Apparent failure in Thessalonica, failure in Berea, and, some say, failure in Athens. In Corinth Silas and Timothy joined Paul and gave to him a positive report of all the good things that were happening in Thessalonica. Paul was encouraged by their report and wrote 1 Thessalonians to encourage and confirm the faith of the young Christians. This letter is the first New Testament book written as we know it.
Paul is encouraged by the work, labor, and endurance of the Thessalonians. They had not only received the missionary team but imitated them as well, to the point of becoming a model for the other churches in Asia. Everyone was talking about how they had turned from idols and turned to faith in Christ. They were the second church in Asia but first in example. How was the young struggling church able to overcome the loss of their founding pastor, a heathen culture, and severe persecution? In verses 6 and 7, Paul reiterates that they had followed his example and must now become an example to others. It was the law of the echo, what you send out returns to you. Paul was their encourager, and they in turn became his. The ill effects of negative, pessimistic "basement people" were overcome by encouragement. If we wish to break the destructive cycle of negative defeatism, we must become "balcony people."
Joyce Landorf goes on to talk about the "balcony people." These are the ones who live in the top one--third of our conscious minds, in the sphere of clear air wherein is the clean and pure oxygen. These are the ones who are not merely sitting there but practically hanging over the rail, cheering us on. These are our spiritual cheerleaders who continually shout, "You can do it! I believe in you! Persevere! Hang in there!"
Doesn't your mind explode with mental images of those in your past who have been your encouragers? I remember Mrs. Stone who won me to Christ. I remember words from my parents, grandparents, in--laws, and family that have sustained me. Pastors like Sidney Argo, teachers like Swan Haworth, friends like Harry Eades; the list is endless!
Some spoke the truth in love. I overheard my twelfth grade English teacher say to someone, "There is no telling what Gary Carver could do if he were not so lazy." She spoke the truth in love, she was a "balcony person."
Think of your past! Who are your encouragers? Who are your "balcony people"? Some of you may need to make a telephone call or write a letter of gratitude to those who have encouraged you. Quote to them Philippians 1:3, "Every time I think of you, I thank my God." You have had those spiritual cheerleaders, haven't you? Aren't you grateful that they have been there, applauding your success, forgiving your failures, and giving you another chance? A young preacher was so frightened at the delivery of his first sermon that he prepared three other sermons, just in case. He preached all four sermons in seven minutes. But he was encouraged by those around him. His name is Billy Graham.
Think of today. There are some right now, hanging over the rail, cheering you on. The Apostle Paul is there. The head cheerleader, of course, is our Lord himself, encouraging you. "Go for it! You can do it in my power, will, and love." Somebody up there likes you!
But let us take our thinking a step further. Are there not people in your sphere of influence to whom you can be an encourager, a "balcony person"? Isn't there someone to whom you can intentionally go to give what has been given to you?
Albert Schweitzer was once asked, "Why did you leave your status as a world renowned musician and world renowned theologian to go as a missionary to Africa?" His response was classic. He said, "It was about time I started returning something to the stream that had nourished me so." Is it about time we stop parking on someone else's dime and start feeding the meter ourselves? Is it time for us to start leaving time on the meter for someone else? Is it time for us to start being an encourager, a spiritual cheerleader, for someone else? You can be. You can start today.
It is our choice. We can be a "basement person," wallowing around in pessimism, griping, and grumbling, pulling ourselves down and everyone around us. Or, we can be a "balcony person," who encourages others only to receive serendipitously that which we have been giving to others.
For most of my 34 years in the ministry I have had people ask me, "Are you any relation to that old Preacher Carver who used to preach around Arab, Alabama?" "Yes, I am proud to say that he was my grandfather." My response then would bring the litany of stories about how my grandfather had touched their lives through encouragement. Roland Clemons approached me at a State Convention meeting. "I was picking cotton," he said, "with your grandparents. I turned to the old man and said, 'Preacher Frank, I think that God is calling me into the ministry.' " "Are you sure?" my grandfather asked. "I think so," Clemons responded. "Well, son, put down that pick sack right now and get to it!" "I lived with them for months," he said. "That old man would sit up most all night talking Bible and then plow all the next day. He was my early theological training. He was my seminary before I went to seminary."
In 1964, on the day before I entered college, we buried my grandfather. In the church he built with his own hands, his funeral service was conducted by six ministers, all of whom he had helped to start in the ministry. Seven if you include his son. Eight if you include me. I still have in my office the last postcard he wrote to me. In shaky script the concluding words were, "I have prayed that it be God's will for me to hear you preach God's Word." He died within two weeks. I entered the ministry thirteen months later. God did not answer his prayer. Grandpa has never heard me preach, or has he?
____________
1. Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen, Chicken Soup For The Soul (Deerfield Beach, Florida: Health Communications, 1993), p. 213.
2. William J. Bausch, A World Of Stories (Mystic, Connecticut: Twenty--Third Publications, 1998), p. 331.
3. Bausch, op. cit., p. 301.
4. Joyce Landorf, Balcony People (Waco: Word, 1984), p. 33.
