RRN Online Volume 434

September 25 '04

Volume 434

Ten Thousand Years Lee & The Churchmen

I had spent the morning meeting with retailers and was about to return to Pontotoc, when I was struck with the impulse to check in with Lee Gordon at First Baptist Church, West Point. I had not talked to Lee since the day of the fish fry last July, and I thought a visit was in order. Plus, from time to time, I like to sound him out on church matters. I don’t think of Lee as my spiritual advisor, but I appreciate his understanding of the Church in a changing world. He doesn’t have all the answers, but I don’t mind him sharing his point of view, even when we don’t see eye to eye.

Turning the corner beside FBC, West Point, I noticed a large barbecue grill mounted on a trailer behind a pickup truck parked adjacent to the church. The size of the grill and the smoke billowing from the flue told me someone was doing some serious cooking. I couldn’t imagine what was happening on a Tuesday morning as I proceeded to the parking lot behind the church. However, Lee’s truck was in the parking slot designated "Staff Parking," so I presumed he was at work.

Entering the rear of the building that houses the church’s sanctuary, I noted a man just outside the door talking on a cell phone. He was "suited up," but I didn’t recognize him as a staff member, and when I overheard him saying something about getting back to Gulfport, I presumed he was at the church for business reasons or like me, merely stopping by to visit someone. Once inside the building, I saw that the rear doors of the sanctuary were open, and I could hear voices emanating from within. I quickly checked the choir room and saw that Lee was not in his office. As I peeked into the sanctuary to see what was going on, I saw Lee, with his back to me. He was holding a music folder and was standing in front of a microphone.

"Some sort of rehearsal," I mused to myself. "Maybe, they won’t mind if I slip into the sanctuary and listen."

The choir loft was almost completely filled with men. I recognized several of them and concluded I had happened upon a rehearsal of the Mississippi Singing Churchmen, a singing group consisting of more than 130 men from various Baptist churches throughout the state with a handful of individuals associated with the Mississippi State Baptist Convention.

Finding a pew near the front of the sanctuary, I sat down to listen and looked up to note the soloist was Lee Gordon. Wow, did he sound good, especially with approximately forty male voices backing him? They were about midway through an arrangement of "Ten Thousand Years."

When Lee finished his solo portion of the song, he walked down from the platform and over to where I was seated and greeted me.

"Did you know about this?" he asked.

"No, I just stopped by to see you," I responded.

"Well, if you’ve got time to stick around, we’re having hamburgers for lunch, and then we’re giving a concert here."

Minutes later the rehearsal ended, and I had the opportunity to speak to Jim Hess of Vicksburg and Mickey Gentry of Pontotoc. Jim opened his music folder and pulled out several pictures of his new grandchild, Mary Addison Loving. She’s now three months old and is the first grandchild of Jim and Sheila Hess. Jim was not in any of the pictures, but even if he had been, I imagine my favorite photo would still have been the one picturing Jim’s mother, Mary Addison, held by grandmother Sheila, and Courtney.

As Jim and I entered the fellowship hall where the "churchmen" lined both sides of a table loaded with giant hamburgers, buns, condiments and chips, I spotted David Prevost, once the Minister of Music at FBC, Pontotoc, who is now at Calvary Baptist in Tupelo. David shook my hand and acted as though he was glad to see me. Another table held a wide array of desserts, but after selecting a hamburger patty that must have once weighed a half-pound, I decided a hamburger and a glass of tea would be plenty for me.

Jim and I sat across the table from one another, while the director of the Singing Churchmen and his wife sat beside us.

"Wayne, this is Milfred Valentine," Jim said, as he introduced me. "Wayne’s from Pontotoc."

"Pontotoc," he responded, emphasizing all the syllables, "The land of hanging grapes."

"I always like to meet an educated man," I responded, insinuating one’s acquaintance with a bit of historical information pertaining to Pontotoc qualified one as educated.

"Oh yes, after years of putting up with James Francis, I know about Pontotoc," he replied.

James, Minister of Music at West Heights Baptist Church, Pontotoc, was not able to attend this particular gathering of the Singing Churchmen.

After the delicious meal, all the churchmen filed into the choir room to line up for their entrance into the sanctuary. I remember occasions when the churchmen all wore tuxedos when on tour, and perhaps they still do, but on this occasion everyone had a blue blazer, gray pants, white shirt, and tie, with the tie being the only item exactly the same for everyone.

Local church members filled most of the rear of the sanctuary when I arrived, and I opted for a seat in the center section. I had hardly sat down when eleven women and one man packed the row directly in front of me. Fortunately, the largest and the tallest of the group didn’t locate directly in front of me, and I was able to see all of the instrumentalists and singers.

There were no program guides, and I can’t rely on memory to share a summary of my favorite selections, but the music was really good. Well, the amplification was a little too loud for my tastes, but I’m sure I was in the minority. The wife of the director, who hears a lot more performances than I do, noted the sound of the churchmen was "recordable quality," and I would certainly agree.

About midway through the performance, the director announced the churchmen would introduce themselves. He encouraged those of us from out of town to applaud if our home church’s Minister of Music was among the group. A cordless microphone was passed from man to man as each stood and introduced himself.

When Allen Harris, Minister of Music at North Oxford Baptist Church, Oxford, introduced himself, I discovered the folks on the pew in front of me were there to support him.

My Minister of Music stood, and exclaimed, "I’m Mickey Gentry, Minister of Music, First Baptist Church, Pontotoc," and would have received less quizzical looks and comments from fellow churchmen had he stopped there, but he continued, "home of Ridge Rider News."

Naturally, I applauded.

A few churchmen tried their hand at humor, but Lee Gordon took top honors stating, "My name is Lee Gordon, and I’m the reason this church doesn’t have a Minister of Music."

While the largely home crowd roared their appreciation of Lee, fellow churchmen seated near him commented, "They know you better than we thought."

Ask any of the churchmen and they’ll tell you they love what they are doing and enjoy their times of fellowship when they touring.

The final selection performed by the churchmen was "Midnight Cry." There was an introductory narration excerpted from "God’s Trombone" by James Weldon Johnson and ably given by Graham Smith head of the Department of Music for the Mississippi Baptist Convention Board. The soloist was Allen Harris, Minister of Music at North Oxford Baptist Church, Oxford, MS. Allen began his career intent on singing opera, but the Lord persuaded him to devote his life to the more spiritually rewarding field of church music. Allen is a terrific tenor, and his singing moved the ladies in front of me to tears. I saw five or six of them dabbing Kleenex at the corners of their eyes and the tips of their noses.

Afterwards, I checked my watch and noticed I had gone well past my lunch hour, but since I don’t have to punch a clock, I figured the long break for lunch would serve as comp-time for at least one of the extended road trips I’ve made this year.

I found the program to be among the best performances I have seen of the Mississippi Singing Churchmen. I left the church, having had a nourishing meal and a much welcomed and revived awareness of the presence of God, not only in my life but also in the lives of a great many others, and looking forward to the rest of my first "Ten Thousand Years" with the Lord.

Math Autobiography Essay - By Felicia Brown

As I look back to my past experiences with math a feeling of discomfort and uneasiness looms over me like a dark cloud. I can look back realizing that for the most part my math classes are behind me, never to be thought of again, and I can breathe a sigh of relief knowing that. My first thoughts of math take me back to Mrs. Busby’s room my second year of education. Timed tests were the norm, and, for a student who enjoyed the arts, the restriction of time and the material to be covered was overwhelming. I must tell you at this point that I am the child of an educator and failure to excel in any area was unacceptable. So from the moment the test began to the moment it ended and it was graded my stomach was unsettled and my nerves were shot. That feeling is the exact same feeling I have today when forced into math oriented situations.

Never were my math skills below average and some of the time they were even above average, but my dislike for the subject matter never changed. Through grade school I made it through math with no real problems. Then in seventh grade I was grouped with the upper level math students and began my pre-algebra studies, or the time in my life I like to refer to as the beginning of the end. I passed the classes with A’s and B’s but never truly felt comfortable with what I was being taught. Maybe it was that I sat at the back of the class, maybe it was I did not have good study habits so I relied on skill recall for the test, but whatever the reason, math and I were never like two peas in a pod.

Into my high school years I continued with Honors Geometry, Algebra II, Trigonometry, and Pre-Calculus. Geometry was the only math I ever remember taking that I remotely liked and there were definite parts of it that I was not fond of. As for the before mentioned classes the dark cloud of doom was definitely present during all of them.

What an extreme blessing it was to take College Algebra during high school so as not to have to deal with it at the university level. I know at this point you are thinking about the one other math that was needed for elementary education majors, well I took Trigonometry at this great university. I would have probably pulled a low "C" had it not been that the professor noticed my hometown one day during a test and noted that he had married a girl from there. After talking with him I discovered that his wife, was my mom’s best friend in college, but tragically she had died in a car accident some twenty years ago. I worked and went to class, but it was most likely by his grace, not divine intervention that got me through with a "B".

I can never think back to a time that I loved mathematics. As for my family, my favorite uncle taught math for some years, but when asked for help always mumbled something about "new math" and left me on my own. My brother went to a special state school just for students who excelled in areas of math and science, but note the recruiters never knocked on my door. My mom, the educator, she teaches English so her math skills other than grade book duties are kept to a minimum.

It is quite sad that the thought of math leaves a bad taste in my mouth and a squeamish feeling in my stomach. I have always believed that you had to have basic math skills to get through life and one should always be the best they can be, but when it comes to math I will settle for second best. I will never be the mathematician the technical, brainy type. Let me draw a picture or read you a story.

To me math is a subject of uncertainty in my life. I will never be able to rattle off all of the various trigonometric formulas, or tell you all about Descartes. I will however be open to learn new techniques that I can bring into the classroom so as to divert the cloud of doom that may fall upon someone else who lacks a love for math as I did.

Note: Felicia's essay was a course assignment. Felicia is a senior, majoring in elementary education at Ole Miss. She is the daughter of the Sarah Carter Brown of Pontotoc, MS. Her favorite uncle does not recall the "new math" portion of the essay.

Bodock Beau Funeral Service

Things are not always what they seem to be and is illustrated by the first anecdote. The second one is a fairly accurate comparison between butter and margarine. Yet, the concluding "fact" doesn’t make a case for throwing the margarine out of the refrigerator.

Funeral Service

A young preacher was asked by the local funeral director to hold a graveside burial service at a small local cemetery for someone with no family or friends. The preacher started early but quickly got himself lost, making several wrong turns.

Eventually, a half-hour late, he saw a backhoe and its crew, but the hearse was nowhere in sight, and the workmen were eating lunch. The diligent young pastor went to the open grave and found the vault lid

already in place.

Taking out his book, he read the service. Feeling guilty because of his tardiness, he preached an impassioned and lengthy service, sending the deceased to the great beyond in style.

As he was returning to his car, he overheard one of the workmen say: "I've been putting in septic tanks for twenty years, and I ain't never seen nothin' like that."

Shared by Ken Gaillard

DO YOU KNOW...

The difference between margarine and butter?

a. Both have the same amount of calories.

b. Butter is slightly higher in saturated fats at 8 grams compared to 5 grams.

c. Eating margarine can increase heart disease in women by 53% over eating the same amount of butter, according to a recent Harvard Medical Study.

d. Eating butter increases the absorption of many other nutrients in other foods.

e. Butter has many nutritional benefits where margarine has a few only because they are added!

f. Butter tastes much better than margarine and it can enhance the flavors of other foods.

g. Butter has been around for centuries where margarine has been around for less than 100 years.

And now, for Margarine....

a. Very high in trans fatty acids.

b. Triple risk of coronary heart disease.

c. Increases total cholesterol and LDL (this is the bad cholesterol),

d. Lowers HDL cholesterol, (the good cholesterol).

e. Increases the risk of cancers by up to five fold.

f. Lowers quality of breast milk.

g. Decreases immune response.

h. Decreases insulin response.

And here is the most disturbing fact.

Margarine is but ONE MOLECULE away from being PLASTIC. This fact alone was enough to have me avoiding margarine for life and anything else that is

hydrogenated (this means hydrogen is added, changing the molecular structure of the substance).

YOU can try this yourself: purchase a tub of margarine and leave it in your garage or shaded area. Within a couple of days you will note a couple of things: no flies, not even those pesky fruit flies will go near it (that should tell you something). It does not rot or smell differently because it has no nutritional value, nothing will grow on it…even those teeny weeny micro-organisms will not find a home to grow.

Why? Because it is nearly plastic.

Would you melt your Tupperware and spread that on your toast?

Share This With Your Friends...(Butter them up.)

Contributed by Bing Crausby

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