Have you ever been tempted to speed read through the family lists in Numbers or First and Second Chronicles? Chronologies are tedious for most readers. Few take the time to memorize the familial relationship between Gershom and Eliezer or Micah the first and Isshiah (No. That’s not a typo!) the second. But God apparently deemed those who filled roles in the redemptive chain of enough significance to at least mention their names. Siblings of the famous spend life in the shadow of famous brothers and sisters. The deeds of the heroic, the mighty and influential are memorialized while the members of the supporting cast are largely ignored.
In church life, the small church is scoffed at and becomes the object of fix-it strategies. The not so silent assumption is that small is bad, ailing, and an embarrassment. The megawatt lights of big institutions dwarf smaller groups, but authentic, effective, well-focused lamps shine on the work to which they were called. If the lesser lights are forming pastors and missionaries, shouldn’t that be celebrated? Is size and public influence really that important and does size really guarantee effectiveness?
Conventional wisdom declares, “Hire tens! Don’t hire people who need help, hire people who can help you!” Only fools don’t understand the intent, but few begin as “tens.” Most are threes, fours, or fives at the onset. Few reach the elite level of widespread recognition. Most ministers and churches ply their craft in relative anonymity. But, without the thousands of Gershoms and Isshiahs, David and Solomon would have lived in a vacuum and had no one to lead!
I remember entertaining a newlywed couple at lunch after a morning worship service. The young man was a newly minted credential holder, licensed to preach, the wife, a nurse. They were seeking a place to get started, a place to apply their classroom preparations. Sincerity flowed freely from the idealistic and eager youth. Frustration was similarly present. When I asked, “How has your pastor affirmed you and your calling?” the response was, “We have now spent more time with you than we have ever spent with our pastor.” And, we hadn’t ordered dessert yet. What is especially troubling, they both had grown up in the church! For more than a year they served their novitiate of ministry with distinction and now flourish as ministry team members in another fine church.
A legendary person in Philadelphia’s Highway Tabernacle history is so well hidden that few recognize or remember his name. (How is that for an oxymoron, “legendary” and “unknown?”) Brother Leon receives a mere footnote in remembrances written about the church, but for more than 25 years the effectiveness of several pastors and the comfort of thousands of people were guaranteed by this humble brother who slept in the church cellar making sure the furnace properly warmed the building for Sunday ministry. He shoveled walks, made repairs, and nursed the landmark pre-Civil War structure through many storms, extra cold nights, and special events. Thorough, Leon even kept a log, in German, of weather conditions, building usage, loaned equipment, and other details. Remember the name, Leon Grzybowsky, I believe he will receive a loudly announced, “Well done, good and faithful servant,” at the final judgment.
Maybe God has included the Rehabiahs and Shelomiths in His Word to remind us that there are, as Francis Schaeffer’s book title says, “No Little People.” For every Moses, Joshua or David that God employs, there are thousands whose names we tend to skip over casually. But, they all count!
Let’s speak with some of the Rehabiahs and Shelomiths who are in our personal spiritual lineage. And, we may learn more than we can imagine from those who have filled the lesser light venues tending the fires of faith for the good of all.
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