11:00 AM
Ken Pierpont
Series: Growing A Family With A Lifelong Love For God; Deuteronomy 6:10-15
Bittersweet Farm
Filed Under: Sermons

Filed Under: Current Thoughts, Past Ministry, Read Aloud Stories, What I'm Reading
Last night as evening fell, I found myself in the country enjoying a mellow and comely summer evening. I aimed my chair toward a far-away tree line in the west and read under a huge walnut tree while Lois took photos of our new grand-niece, Bailey Hope. Her big brothers, Riley and Wyatt (do these people have a way with names or what?) played with Hope nearby. I’m sure pictures of wee Bailey will surface within a few days at www.loispierpont.com.
Just as evening fell into the trees and Lois finished her session, I finished my first book by John McPhee, The Pine Barrens. He has written almost thirty. I suspect I will read most of them. McPhee writes narrative non-fiction. Narrative journalism fascinates me and I see in it a direct link to preaching that is true to the text of Scripture and interesting. I first became conscious of the power of narrative journalism reading Sebastian Junger’s The Perfect Storm. He is just informative and interesting. So it is with McPhee. He can make any subject interesting. It is commonly known that pastors have a way of making even the lively narratives of the Bible dull.

The Bible is interesting. This Sunday night I continue my journey through the books of the Bible–one per message. I call the series A Fly-Over of the Bible. This Sunday evening we will Fly-Over Exodus. It is an interesting story. Here is a rough-draft of what I wrote:
This book burns with fire, and roars with thunder. It is filled with thirst and flood. In it is overpowering holiness and great, dark evil. Within its stories are great darkness and explosions of divine glory. It sounds like the crack of an oppressor’s whip, a wail of desperate prayer, a cry of angry justice, a trumpet of announcement, anguished mourning, and a voice that peals like thunder from heaven. It smells like burning flesh, and roasting meat. Some of its stories unfold under cover of darkness and others blaze with glory.
There are stories here of pitiful failure and ringing triumph. There is mortal conflict between Moses, the deliverer of God and a demonic despotic Egyptian Pharoah. It involves detailed obedience and people who are gifted and skilled by the spirit to perform the works of God. There is within it a powerful leader who begins with great privilege and providential protection and falls to failure, murder, and retreat, but he is given a second chance.
In this book you have a small family of seventy people who are exiles in a foreign land and oppressed, to a mighty nation that successfully opposes a superpower. To say the least it is quite a story—as are all the stories of God. And it is more than what it appears to be on the surface. It is an epic story spanning centuries. It is a symbolic story which has fulfillments in other times and other places centuries later. It is a sacred story inspired by the breath of God. It is an eternal story that will never go out of print. It is a story God wants all of his people to know.
If you preach or teach or witness, take a lesson from John McPhee and Sebastian Junger—make it interesting by keeping the information alive with narrative. (incidentally, Lee Strobel has a background in journalism and he has used this technique powerfully in the his books on popular apologetics—The Case for Christ, The Case for Faith, etc.).

Filed Under: Current Thoughts, Past Ministry
In May of this year we invited Tom Harmon to speak to the men of our church on a Saturday morning. We started early and served the men coffee and a light breakfast by the fireside before the sessions began. I prayed for a good turn-out. When I stepped out of my study and turned down the hallway I could immediately see that my prayer was answered.
The foyer was filled with men. There were over a hundred men in attendance. Worship music was playing in the auditorium, but there was another sound. It was an unusual sound. It was unlike any sound that I had ever heard in our building before. It was the sound of voices, but deeper than the usual pitch of joyful chatter I am used to hearing. It was the sound of the voices of men and it was pleasant to hear. It was loud. It was low. It was almost throbbing. It reminded me of the distinct sound of a well-tuned Harley—like a throaty rumbling.
This week I noticed on Justin Taylor’s blog that C. S. Lewis said; “There’s no sound I like better than adult male laughter.” (—cited in Walter Hooper, C.S. Lewis: A Companion and Guide (HarperCollins, 1996), p. 16.)
Of the things that access our souls through our ears one of the sweetest must be the sound of men’s voices in enthusiastic praise and worship of their Creator God.
One of the greatest experiences of my ministry was a weekend leading hundreds of men in singing at a Men’s Conference. It was a simple affair, a single leader, a gifted piano player, and traditional hymns, but all who were present were confident that the Lord visited that singing in a very special way. I had an overpowering sense of the Spirit directing that singing. When each song concluded there was a burst of shouting and enthusiastic, God-centered applause. Men arrived early for the sessions so they would not miss the worshipful singing. Some testified later of driving home through the night after that week singing the hymns in the car all the way home.
My current favorite music is a recording of five thousand men, mostly pastors, singing hymns at the Together for the Gospel Conference. It is powerful, anointed, music. It always draws my heart to God. This year I attended the conference with one of my sons and his pastor, as much for the singing as the preaching. There were seven thousand in attendance this year and we were not disappointed with the singing.
Every year I look forward the time at Camp Barakel in northern Michgian just before I speak. I gather my final thoughts, pray, pick-up my Bible and start toward the chapel with an indescribable delight in my heart. I can smell the sweet tang of wood smoke. I can hear the piano preparing the hearts of men for worship. Soon the musical praises of men will ring through the chapel and echo out across the lake. What a unique, pure sound.
Imagine the day described in the seventh chapter of the Revelation when angels, living creatures, elders, and believers—saints from every tribe and tongue and people and nation, numbering ten thousand times ten thousand, explode in praise like musical thunder!
Until we gather together there, may the Harley-rumble of men in laughter, praise, prayer, and fellowship never die.
Ken Pierpont
Granville Cottage
Riverview, Michigan
June 7, 2010
Filed Under: Sermons
Filed Under: Sermons
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