"And That's The Way It Is"

I grew up watching the CBS Evening News. We knew not to trust what Walter Cronkite said. We noticed, even back then, intentional warping of the facts. For example, my dad noticed that they cut his uncle’s house out of the film footage when they ran a story about Four-States, West Virginia. A successful miner did not fit their storyline, so they cut his house out and showed only the houses owned by drunks. But we liked to hear Cronkite talk. Maybe I should not say it, but the truth is the way that man lit his pipe at the end of every program was almost a work of art.

While we applauded Cronkite’s abilities, we did not feel obligated to tune in every evening. If the lawn needed to be mowed, or there was a ball game to attend, we would miss his broadcasts. He was a good talker, but not that good. We could miss his show without much regret.

I thought of that recently. Someone praised my morning sermon, but did not bother to come in the evening. My morning sermon was good, but not that good. This does not really surprise me. I do not claim to be as good at talking as Walter Cronkite (nor am I much good at lighting a pipe). So obviously, those who come to hear someone talk, or who come because they like acapella singing, will feel no obligation to come back again on Sunday night. That makes sense if, and only if, the purpose of our assembling is to sing and to hear a professional speaker.

If on the other hand, the purpose of our assembling is to honor a Lord to whom we are infinitely indebted … I will leave it to you to finish that sentence.

It hurts me deeply when someone praises my sermons but wilfully misses our assemblies. It does not hurt me because I think their praise insincere. It hurts me because I feel certain that they have missed the whole point. It is not about me; it is about the Lord. If you are out there doing something that honors him more than being in our assembly would honor him, then by all means do it. But when someone praises a sermon, and then stays home to watch a ballgame, the sermon is being treated as the main show, and the Savior is being treated as a sidelight.