We Ought To Be Committed

My Granny and Grandpa Tharpe were avid Atlanta Braves fans even through the bad years. Make that especially through the bad years. I will never forget as a child sitting in my Granny's old house, nestled safe and sound under one of her hand crocheted afghans sitting and watching the Braves lose.

Night after night we would come in from fishing or whatever we had been doing and take up our positions: Granny in her old glider rocker and Grandpa on the end of the couch nearest the propane heater. No, he wasn't cold natured, his ashtray was on top of it, and Grandpa was seldom to be seen without an unfiltered Palm Mall cigarette within reach. I sat on the other end of the couch or the floor depending upon my mood.

Granny would grab her National Inquirer magazine to make sure I didn't pick it up and get corrupted. She never read it; she just kept it in her lap so I couldn't get at it. I had to be satisfied with that era's version of the Oriental Trader catalog; or if the stars were lined up just right and Granny was really into the game, I could look at the National Geographic magazine. A boy never quite knows what he might come across in National Geographic.

We would sit there, and I would listen as Granny talked to the television. Grandpa was for the most part silent, but Granny kept up a running commentary on the ills of the other team, the errors of the Braves and the eye sight of the umpires.

She knew every player by name; where they lived and where they came from, and she had plenty of advice for them if they were to fall into a slump.

From Hank Aaron, to Dusty Rhodes and all the way to Tito Francona, I was convinced, as was my Granny, that if they would just listen to her, the team would turn around and make something of themselves.     

My grandparent's commitment to their team was truly something to behold. Throughout my childhood and well into my thirties the scene was reenacted time and time again; and time and time again as the Braves would lose; Granny would shrug it off and say: "We’ll get `em tomorrow!"

That dedication, that commitment was simply part of their being. For if they devoted themselves to something, be it a baseball team on a decade’s long losing streak or the Saint Andrews Methodist Church, nothing, and I mean nothing, could shake their resolve. If they committed to something, they stuck to it. They never gave up and they never gave in.         

Every Sunday morning, rain or shine, hot or cold, in the mood or out; Granny put on her best frock, forced me to wash behind my ears, checked my fingernails for dirt and dragged me to church whether I liked it or not, or for that matter whether she liked it or not.

​“You can't always do what you want to do,” she said, “Sometimes you just have to do what is best!” To Granny, learning of and worshiping God Almighty was the best and nothing would stand in her way.
 
You know I think sometimes that Jesus Christ, our Creator, would be happy if in this era you and I simply treated Him, and worshiped Him with half the fervor, and half the commitment we show to our sports teams, our sitcoms, our political parties, and ourselves.    

I have considered in the past selling season tickets to worship services in the faint hope that they would sell, but I abandoned that idea for fear that the commitment to attend regularly, implied in the sale, would prevent the sale.

I have been accused in the past of being a little too direct sometimes. I disagree. I believe that direct is often best. Beating around bushes bruises the bushes to no good purpose, and wastes our time on top of that. So let me state a few things rather plainly.

First of all if you are a parent of young children and your children are anywhere other than the House of God each and every Sunday morning, then I dare say that your children are being done a great disservice. If you are a parent of children old enough to make their own decisions in such matters and you are not in the House of God yourself each and every Sunday morning then your example, and believe me no matter how old they are you are still their primary example, your example is going wanting. For grandparents and great grandparents alike the statement still holds true.   
           
The Lord in His benevolence has given each of us 168 hours per week to enjoy. If we, as the children of God, cannot spend 1.79% of that time, and that includes a one hour commute, paying homage to the one who gives us physical and eternal life; then I dare say our priorities are in desperate need of adjustment.
           
Commitment to Christ and His church is lacking in many quarters these days and the results of that lacking can be seen on any newscast or in any newspaper as the moral decay which surrounds us is plain to see.
           
Our children, yours and mine, are at risk. We turn a blind eye to that truth to our children's peril. As my Granny would say "Sometimes you just have to do what is best!"
           
​With that in mind, I look forward to seeing you and your family at church on Sunday morning, each and every Sunday morning.
 
Love,
Pastor Tony
 
             
 
                
                 

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