Aunt Ida shares a whopper

By Jim White

Dear Jimmy,

Well have I got a story to tell you. Every year your Uncle Orley and his brothers get together for a big fishin’ trip. As they have gone several years now and have yet to bring home so much as a bluegill, I rather suspect that their fishin’ consists mostly of sittin’ around a fire drinkin’ coffee and tellin’ stories. My suspicions were confirmed this year by the whopper Orley brought home with him. By this I mean a story not a fish.

It goes something like this: The preacher down at Gunpowder Baptist, not too awful far from Hazel Run where Harry preaches, got plumb wore out listening to church members whine. It seemed that every time they got together some new group was discontented about something or other. Now, Gunpowder is not what you’d call a mega church to begin with, so some of the same people often appeared in several groups.

One group didn’t want to use Sunday School literature—just the Bible. Another group rose up against them, contending the first group didn’t know the Bible well enough to teach it without help. Another group didn’t like the singin’ in church while another said Brother Roy, the preacher, just wasn’t feedin’ them.

We heard that said at our church once and Uncle Orley pretty well hushed the complainers when he told them “Ya know, you can strap a feed bag full of oats on a mule, but you can’t make him chew and swaller.”

Well, they was drivin’ poor Brother Roy crazy with all their fussin’ and carrin’ on, and finally three deacons came to him real compassionate like and said they thought it would be a good idea for him to get on down the road and find another church.

After prayin’ and thinkin’ quite a spell, Brother Roy got up one Sunday morning and announced that he was tired of all the tattlin’, backbitin’, shameless gossipin’ and other kinds of sinnin’ and the next Sunday he was going to put somebody in their place. He wouldn’t say anything more except to say he wasn’t going to hold anything back. This person had it comin’ and he was goin’ to put ‘em in their place.

Well, before church let out you could see notes being passed in the choir speculatin’ on who it was. At first, everybody had a notion on who it ought to be. Come to find out, almost everybody in the church could name at least two people who they though deserved to get called out publicly and confronted with their sins.

If they had counted calls as contacts, they out contacted every other church in Virginia that week. Why, elderly ladies who nobody even knew owned cell phones were observed trying to parallel park at the beauty shop with one hand while having the other stuck to their ears. They could hardly wait till Sunday to discover the identity of the transgressor.

Before long, word got out in the community: “Somebody is gonna get publicly put in their place by the preacher down at Gunpowder Baptist this Sunday.” The Methodists asked their pastor to dismiss services so they could attend. He refused, but most of his congregation, including his wife, went to the Baptist church that morning anyway.

Well, along about Thursday, it seemed to occur to several of them all of a sudden like that they might be on the receiving end of the pastor’s remarks, and that put the service in a whole new light. They began to think about things they had done.

By Friday noon a line had formed at the pastor’s study door with everybody wondering the same thing: “Am I the one?” After askin’ the question in the privacy of his study, most continued with something trivial like “I know it was an awful thing to do when I rearranged the numbers on the hymn board” or “I took an Easter lilly after the service without paying for it. I intended to but I just never got around to it. I don’t know how you found out, but please don’t tell the whole congregation about it.”

There were also some major surprises in store for Brother Roy. He discovered, for example, that the man who collected the Sunday School offerings had been pocketing loose bills for years. Others came confessing their adulterous affairs. All were convinced that Brother Roy had discovered their sins and was about to tell the church. Whatever caused their confessions, their repentance proved genuine as with tears and prayers they sought to get right with the Lord.

Finally, Sunday came and there had never been so many people at Gunpowder. The Baptists all looked guilty, and the Methodists all looked eager. Brother Roy walked to the pulpit with purpose. Taking a moment to survey the congregation, he said “I promised last Sunday that during this service I would put someone in their place, and so I will. I should have done this long ago. If I had, the situation at Gunpowder might not have become so explosive. I’m afraid that I have been listening to too many of you bellyache. I’ve been trying to please you. I have watched you mistreat and mistrust each other. You have said things about each other and about me and my family that are simply not true. You have been living hypocritical lives saying one thing while doing another. What’s more, I have become as critical of some of you as you have been of me. Shame on us all. And this morning, someone is going to get put in his place.”

Here he paused as the congregation looked nervously around. Many of the Methodists were joining the Baptists in looking guilty. He spoke again. “This morning I’m going to put Jesus in his place. It is because Jesus has not been where he should be that we have become as we are. I ask you to join me in putting Jesus in his place in our church and in our hearts.”

With this he stepped down from the platform and knelt at the front of the church. Grown men and women began to cry. The three who had suggested that Brother Roy leave, knelt beside him and prayed that they might be reconciled. That morning the congregation put Jesus in his rightful place as the head of Gunpowder Baptist.

When Uncle Orley told me the story, I started thinking about all the people I have wished I could put in their place and I felt ashamed. Even in churches, one group wants to put another in its place. One group of Baptists would like to see another group of Baptists put in its place and publicly embarrassed. I think this can only happen when Jesus isn’t in his place.

I hope you enjoy this story as much as I did. Maybe Orley should go fishin’ more often.

With much love,
Aunt Ida