People with whom we have spent time have learned that my favorite doxology is found in Romans 11. Saint Paul seems to gush with Spirit and wonder declaring
Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God!
How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out!
“Who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has been his counselor?”
“Who has ever given to God, that God should repay him?”
For from him and through him and to him are all things.
To him be the glory forever! Amen. – Romans 11:33-36
For many years this effusive description of God has been as a stabilizer to personal faith. (In the automotive world, a stabilizer is that thing attached to the trunk lid of muscle cars.) When prone to fish tailing and hydroplaning in the morass of personal cares and burdens, The Spirit purpose is to lift Truth with deep emotion and conviction into our consciousness, converting doubt into confidence. Saint Paul’s Spirit-given doxology has steadied our direction and given us traction in times of disease, despair, doubt and defeat.
An early occasion when I needed, and experienced, a working understanding and trust in the Great God defined in doxology was while the pastor of Calvary Assembly of God in Lansing, Michigan. Our area of the city was growing. New houses were being built near our neighborhood, farm acreage was being annexed, new schools were being built. The church grew.
Young, still naive, and probably too eager at age 28, the deacons and I convened a church business meeting to determine if we would build an addition to the church building. While one board member, the treasurer, was less than enthusiastic, I was caught off balance when Frank stood during the discussion and argued emphatically to delay any decision concerning expansion until, “We can prove in black and white that we can afford such a risky proposal. And, I urge everyone to support my opinion!”
At that moment the Holy Spirit gave me a gentle word that helped determine the course the church would take. I simply pointed out that when children are born into a family, the parents make room for them. Families add rooms or buy larger houses to accommodate their growth. It is natural and, while prudent management is required, rejecting or giving away a newborn is not a healthy option. The church voted unanimously, with the exception of Frank, to proceed.
Architectural plans were drawn, a ground breaking ceremony followed, bonds were marketed to finance the project, and a huge hole, 100' by 100' was dug more than 10 feet deep. And then it rained ... rained ... rained ... and rained for over a week. Since the hole was immediately against an existing wall of the church, as the water rose, it began seeping into the basement level Sunday School and children’s church area. My presbyter, a man at least 30 years my senior, called midway through the unseasonable monsoon to inform me that his congregation’s board had voted to have a sign made for us. I was initially ecstatic and thank him for their generosity. And then, I suggested that we would prepare copy for the sign maker. To that the veteran minister said, “I’ve already ordered it. The sign will read ‘Wegner’s Folly.’” My head spun. My spirit was crushed. I needed to connect with the God Saint Paul had defined in doxology.
Over the next ten or twelve months, the contractor defaulted, interest rates on FDIC insured certificates of deposit rose to more than 10 percent while we were offering only 8 percent, and my presbyter’s poke was beginning to look prophetic, Frank’s “death of the church” projection hovered like a dark cloud everywhere. But, the church rallied. Members and friends continuously applied themselves, doing everything their skills allowed. A professional painting contractor, a Jew, began attending services and supplied manpower and directed less experienced church members.
The building inched toward completion while vendors who had contracted with the general contractor began threatening our property with liens. We were able to arrange for the payment and delivery of the furniture directly with the manufacturer and completion materials, but I was dreading a confrontation with the general contractor. We owed his company about $21,000 and had less than $2,000 in our accounts. Over $27,000 in unsold bonds gathered dust in my study.
The dreaded appointment was set for a Monday afternoon at one o’clock. On the previous Saturday I went to the church very early to pray and make final preparations for Sunday. The faces and disapproval of two men haunted me. Both were older and had more life experience. Had I really heard the Lord, or was I simply a brash upstart who had led the congregation into foolish peril?
On Saturday mornings Pat would call when breakfast was ready and we ate as a family. She called that morning, I went home but I had a hard time enjoying breakfast. What was I going to do on Monday? Almost as an aside, near the end of the meal, Pat mentioned that a man had called inquiring about the church bonds.
After I finished eating and called Orville Foreman, a farmer living in Climax, Michigan. Mr. Foremen said, “I was milking my cows this morning and God told me to help you.” When I asked how he got my telephone number, he told me, “When God told me to help a pastor in Lansing, I went into the house, looked through the district paper and saw that your church has bonds for sale. So, I called. Now, how many bonds do you need to sell?” When I responded, “$28,000,” Mr. Foreman said, “Well, that’s more than I thought, but, just gather them up and come to our place Monday morning at 8:30AM. I’ll see what I can do.”
Monday morning I was in the gravel driveway of an old farm. The barns were old and unpainted, the house needed work. Nothing looked promising! Mr. Foreman came out of a barn having finished milking his cows. He told me to wait a few minutes while he changed clothes. Shortly, he reappeared in clean bib overalls and newer boots. I drove as he directed me toward his bank in downtown Climax. On the way he shared anecdotes about how God spoke to him and what happened when he obeyed. Things were looking more promising!
When Mr. Foreman and I approached, a man opened a bank door with a “Good morning Mr. Foreman! How are you this morning?” The greeting was repeated by five or six employees as we moved directly to the president’s office. I walked out of the bank with a certified check in the amount of $28,000! At the appointed hour I met with the general contractor in an office of our bank, negotiated a settlement price from a position of strength, made final payment, and the church had several thousand dollars to spare.
Every six months afterward, near the date when interest was due on the bonds, Mr. and Mrs. Foremen attended a Sunday evening service and deposited their interest coupons in the offering plate. Less than five years later every lender had been repaid. The church was full and the debts were paid. It wasn’t “Wegner’s Folly” after all. And, we were never able to “prove in black and white” that we could afford the project.
The God described so powerfully in Romans 11 is actively engaged in His world and our lives! Take heart friends! Spend time with the One deep in riches, full of wisdom.
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