Published: July 02, 2009 08:26 pm      

Pastor’s pilgrimage includes tragic death

EDMOND — EDITOR’S NOTE: This month, each of our four local pastors are writing on a unified topic — their personal Christian pilgrimage.



The editor of our weekly religion feature asked the four of us pastors to share our own personal witnesses (testimonies) concerning our Christian pilgrimage. I’m more than happy to do that, even though my testimony is nothing sensational. The only thing significant about my experience of grace is that it is, after all, my personal experience.

I was born into the home of nominal Christians — a loving mom and dad who belonged to the church but seldom or never attended. My grandmother lived down the street from us, and our church was just around the block. On many Sundays my grandmother would drop by our home and my brother and I would walk with her to church.

After my mother’s tragic death in an automobile accident when I was six, my brother and I lived for a while with my grandmother. Church and faith were routine parts of our lives. My grandmother’s kitchen gave off the aroma of gumbo and stew and fried chicken, and her life gave off the aroma of a loving faith in Jesus Christ. I was not taught faith so much as I caught her faith.

I struggled emotionally after my mother’s death, like any child does. One day I asked my grandmother, “Will I ever see my mother again?” She answered, “Alan, your mother is in heaven; and if you give your heart to Jesus you will see her again.”

I probed further, “When can I give my heart to Jesus? I’m ready.” She wisely said to me, “When it’s time for you to do that, the Lord will make it clear to you.” She instructed me to listen to my heart for the voice of the Lord and wait for His summons to trust Him as my personal Savior.

It wasn’t long before my 8-year-old heart sensed what I now know to be the wooing of the Holy Spirit to trust Christ as my Savior. I told the Lord that I wanted to follow Him, that I did believe in Him and that I wanted to go to heaven to see Him and my mother someday. There was no lightning and thunder; I didn’t run or shout or leap over the pews. But something wonderful and lasting happened to that young boy. Jesus Christ came to live in my life.

That was 52 years ago. I know a lot more about theology now — I didn’t know what the Virgin Birth or the Miraculous Conception of Christ meant back then. But I learned that I am not saved by the size of my faith but by the object of my faith; and I trusted Jesus with as much of my heart and mind as I could.

An ill-educated country preacher once said to me, “Jesus won’t never fail.” That’s poor grammar — a double negative — acceptable in Greek but not in English. But it is great theology. Jesus is who He said He is; He does what He said He will do; He cannot fail — not never!

When I was 17, the Lord used circumstances, a godly pastor, and the longings of my own heart to lead me to understand that my life’s purpose was to preach the gospel. Harley Davidson has a slogan, “Live to Ride; Ride to Live.” My slogan is, “Live to preach; preach to live.” Or as the Apostle Paul put it, “Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel!” (1 Cor 9:16)

For the past 43 years, I have preached the good news; for 40 years I have served churches as pastor/teacher. I have the joy to make my living doing what I would do free of charge if I had to. I have learned that the greatest anti-depressants are a clear purpose, a clean conscience and a bright hope!



ALAN DAY is senior pastor at the First Baptist Church of Edmond. He may be reached at AlanDayFBC@aol.com.