Preface To The Second Printing
1. Must God Plead With God?
   
2. How The Spirit Leads
   
3. Physical Reinforcements of Faith
   
4. Jesus' Physical and Spiritual Death
   
5. Is There Merit in Pain?
   
6. The Six Days of Creation
   
7. Adding Guilt to Anxiety
   
8. Wine and The Disciple
   
9. Revolution or Evolution
   
10. I Am That Disciple
    
11. When People Disagree
    
12. Is Unity Based Upon Seven Doctrines?
    
13. Our Seven Sacraments
    
14. Instrumental Music
    
15. The Mood of Worship
    
16. Justified Then Sanctified
    
17. Is Christian Our Name?
    
18. The Lord's Table
    
19. Righteousness That Exceeds
    
20. Neither Destroyed Nor Nailed To The Cross
    
21. The Right of Self-Protection
    
22. A Tree of Error
    
23. God is Limited
    
24. You Are Here
    
25. God is In Charge
    
26. Hook's Points
    
27. Lamentations of A Mediocre Preacher
    

LAMENTATIONS OF A MEDIOCRE PREACHER

If, in reading this book to this point, you have come to resent me, please skip this portion, for you would only see me as an egotistical, soured, less-than-mediocre, old preacher with a self-pitying complex.

The following paragraphs are partly serious and partly playful, written in hope of giving you some insights that may enable you to understand the preacher's predicament better and to point to correction of some hurtful traditional practices.

Let me make it clear here that, in spite of my complaints, no one forced me to be a preacher. I could have "quit preaching and gone to work" at any time. I remained in the profession because I wanted to, in spite of mixed feelings about it.

Let me explain another thing also. I think that I understand fairly well the Scriptural difference between a preacher (evangelist) and a minister (servant) of the church. In these paragraphs I am using those terms interchangeably as is commonly done among our people. We look upon him as a professional preacher/minister.

The talented preacher has no problems, or he is too sophisticated to admit it. I can't speak for him and can hardly relate to him, for I was a mediocre preacher. Literally, mediocre means halfway up a mountain. Even halfway up, I always felt dizzy sad insecure. Perhaps these lamentations will speak for others also who have clung to mediocrity.

I was moved to "enter the ministry" and serve there professionally by an idealism reinforced by determination rather than by talent. My accomplishments were by main strength and awkwardness. I wasn't the sought after type. I was never high in our brotherhood draft system as a prize to the highest bidding church. So, rather than being in a bargaining position with a congregation, I was insecure continually. I fit Thoreau's observation that most men live lives of quiet desperation.

Maybe I didn't preach in the worst places, for they never had difficulty in replacing me! I did climb to a 450-member congregation for a few years, but then I slid back down into my league again.

The ministry, as we have made it, is a profession in which one must admit failure often. Although some churches are keeping their ministers longer now, formerly they had to move at least every three years. If he is dismissed, he must admit failure. If he moves on to greener pastures--up the ladder--he is admitting that he is not doing too well where he is. So, it is demoralizing either way.

According to our tradition, if a preacher applies to a congregation for the ministry, he must "try out." That church has numerous other applications. In order to select the best one, the church has a preaching contest! I read recently that a church's quartet won second place in a gospel singing contest. The kids have Bible knowledge contests. That gives me a great idea. Why not start a spiritual pentathlon! We could determine the champions in preaching, singing, praying, communing, and giving. You can help me think of appropriate prizes for the winners. Second place in a preaching contest doesn't win the prize.

How horrendous--the very thought of competing against a fellow preacher for a ministry! Can't you picture Timothy, Titus, Luke, and Apollos "trying out" for the pulpit in Ephesus with Timothy being so pleased at winning out over them? This points to only one feature of an undesirable system that we have developed.

I detest those terms relating to a preacher. I never considered myself a hireling. I was dedicated to a cause and the church supported me so I could give myself more fully to it.

Suppose that you apply for a different job and your prospective employer required that you take off from your present job and work for a few days or a week to see if he likes you? "That's unfair!" you would protest. You wouldn't want your present boss to know you were applying for a different job. Yet that's exactly what churches require of preachers.

Sometimes a congregation will give the preacher a few, or several, months in which to find a new pulpit. So he begins a search. I here is no want-ad section to help him. He must start "asking around" among friends who might know of other churches who are playing this game of musical chairs--non-instrumental, of course. He hears of one; he calls and is told that they already have a number of applications with several tryouts scheduled and that they are really in no hurry because they have capable men available to fill in. After hearing some such story for a few weeks, the preacher is about ready for the panic button. He is fortunate if he accomplishes a move in three months. And during that interval more than once, I went weeks without support and was actually penniless before being on a payroll again. But that just happens to mediocre preachers.

Two good brothers helped move my furniture in a rental truck on one occasion. They stopped for Cokes, and I didn't even have the thirty cents to pay for three drinks. The church folks, bless them, seeing the condition of the preacher's home, repainted the interior before we arrived. They splotched one coat of the cheapest paint over walls, ceilings, woodwork, and switch plates alike. The interior of our new residence looked like the interior of a grocery bag. There was no range, so we cooked in an electric skillet for a while. But how great it was to be having income again!

One church in Central Texas contracted for me to work with it. The next Sunday, I resigned from the church where I was. The next day an elder called from the new church and canceled the contract. They had heard some gossip about my teaching but did not consult me. Then one of the elders where I had resigned would not consider letting me stay there long enough to find other work. So there I was, out in the cold, strung up by the heels. But that only happens to mediocre preachers.

If we must have hired ministers, I hope that they will never receive salaries comparable to those earned in other professions. God forbid that any man be attracted to the pulpit or ministry by the salary offered. Let his message always be reinforced by self-denial.

This "fruit basket turnover" is one of the most humiliating and discouraging aspects of the mediocre preacher's life. How the tensions build in those last weeks before moving. What a relief when the van pulls away with the furniture! How the spirits are revived by the welcome of the new friends who are so relieved because their preacher finally relocated and a new one has come. Now the preacher and his family can look for from three months to a year of honeymoon when the various elements of the congregation are courting them. But as each special interest group begins to see that the new minister is not taking its side, the tensions begin to build and he starts hearing the increasing volume of the horrid strains from the musical chairs again. Only we mediocre preachers know about that, though.

Suppose that you worked in a company where you had to please everybody in the company.

Suppose you had to clear it with your company every time you wanted to be out of town overnight.

Suppose that you studied to learn things that would make money for your company and then no one would allow you to put those things into practice. Our emphasis on Bible learning is a farce. If the preacher learns something new, he is shot out of the saddle for teaching it.

Being out of the pulpit now, it is a wonderful relief to hear special meetings of the elders called without asking inwardly, "What have I done now?"

Nobody hurts the preacher like the brethren. He is so vulnerable to hurt because he is dedicated to a cause, not just holding a job for a paycheck.

In specific cases preachers have given themselves so unsparingly that they have become drained like an old battery, and then, instead of the congregations helping to recharge them, they dismiss them because they have become dull and ineffective.

Each person who talks with the preacher will reveal his or her hang-up. Before he became acquainted with the congregation, he could teach about those various pet peeves without offending. But now that he is aware of them, each time he teaches on most any subject, it can be interpreted that he is giving a conscious gouge to some person. That is one of the reasons that churches like to have new preachers.

People don't listen and, when they do, they don't always hear. They think you said one thing when you said something else. At least, that is the way it is with us mediocre preachers who are such poor communicators.

One lady bought a pair of new shoes which hurt her feet. She asked Lea if she would wear them and break them in for her.

Once a poor fellow's wife became a raving, uncontrollable maniac. He came to us and asked us to keep her overnight so she would not have to go to the jail, the only available place of safe keeping.

A man whom I had never heard of called at two o'clock in the morning to ask me to come and sit with him as he was having postoperative gas pains.

A certain sweet and gentle lady had periods of mental disorientation during which she would call me in the wee hours of the morning to talk.

During the first half of my ministry, no church that I served had any program of relief to aid people who came by for help. I had either to deprive my family to help them or to send them away with "be ye warmed and filled." And I have had brethren present when I was approached for help, only to see those brothers walk away and leave me.

I have never been described as having the "gift of gab." My soul winning techniques have not won me any ribbons. But the Lord once spoke through a dumb donkey, and at times he has used mediocre preachers. Once, in New Iberia, Louisiana, my phone rang and it was determined that the lady calling had the wrong number. She did not hang up on learning of her mistake, but she entered into a conversation with me. To make the story short, we entered into a discussion of religion which led to her baptism a few days later.

Churches want preachers between the ages of 30 and 45. Jesus might be encouraged to apply, but not the aged Paul. Of course, neither could qualify without a wife. By the time I was fifty, I began to notice that often I was the oldest preacher at preachers' meetings. Can you imagine the company that you work for firing all personnel when they reach fifty? You can be of greatest effectiveness as you gain age and experience. But, catering to childish whims, the church exploits the zeal of dedicated men and then turns them out to provide for their own retirement. Our lawmakers try to enforce a better employment ethic than that, but what has that to do with church people?

You don't have to ride the roller-coaster forty years to begin to lose some of your childish fascination for them. Decade after decade of the same efforts and failure, rituals and functions, songs and prayers, questions and explanations, zealots and stragglers, and simplicity and hypocrisy tends to burn the minister's flame down low. He must get more oil for his lamp, but he cannot depend upon the congregation for it. He must get it from the Lord with the aid of a few intimate friends who are not afraid to think.

Too long there has been an unreal expectation that the preacher be friends on equal basis with all in the congregation. You don't. Why should he? He cannot spread himself so thin as to be intimate with all. And why put himself in such tension trying to be intimate with those whose personalities don't fit with his? You don't. He should show concern and respect for all, but each person knows only a few with whom he can truly be at ease. I suppose that most preachers are a bit lonely. They make few close friends because they have been hurt by so many, and they know they will have to move away and leave them.

Persons who have received an organ transplant such as a kidney from a living donor sometimes come to resent the donor. We dislike being patronized and being obligated. Sometimes it is with mixed feelings that preachers receive favors continually, such as tickets, meals out, and gifts. Pride can get in the way very easily. The preacher prefers to be honored with sufficient salary so that he can take his turn at doing the favors. Few really like to have to master the shell-out falter.

I think I understand why raising children and the ministry were meant for younger people. Only they can handle the work load. For over eight years in New Iberia, Louisiana, I had from fifteen to eighteen sermons and lessons each week. For six years that included a fifteen minute radio broadcast Monday through Saturday with thirty minutes on Sunday. For two years it included two broadcasts daily. Most broadcasts were done live from the station. The church never supplied me a recorder or tape. Added to this work load were visitation, preaching in meetings, leading singing in meetings, weddings, funerals, mowing the church yard, janitorial work, doing my part in all painting and repair jobs, and keeping all visiting preachers. Whew! I'm tired. I think I'll stop for a siesta.

As the people were leaving the church building for the reception after a wedding, one good lady who lacked some of the social advantages approached Lea and drawled out, "Sister Hook, where's the conception gonna be?"

One fellow, teaching a class, read from the unfamiliar American Standard Version from Acts 17:22: "And Paul stood in the midst of the asparagus... "

Some things just don't sound right, like when Lambert Pharmaceutical Company formulated their antiseptic mouthwash and wanted to name it to honor Joseph Lister, who discovered the antiseptic principle. Somehow, it just would not have sounded right to have called it Josephine. And it didn't sound right to hear an elder repeatedly refer to the sin of evil concupiscence with the accent on the third syllable.

I've had no problem with Lea about mother-in-laws. Early in our marriage I solved that in one generous gesture by assuring her that I loved her mother-in-law better than my own. (She didn't catch that, either.)

A picture is as good as a thousand words. Sometimes, more. A high school class will never forget what circumcision is, for the young man teaching the class drew them a diagram on the blackboard to illustrate it.

A certain preacher of slight stature told of baptizing a large framed woman in a river. They waded out into a proper depth and, as he prepared to immerse her, she looked down at him and growled, "You had better not drown me, you little devil!"

Although I worked a team of mules on the farm, I never developed a very strong voice. In earlier years it was always a problem to make people hear above the cries of babies and the buzzing of fans. Then came the age of technology with wonderful public address systems. But for some reason, our brethren either do not install them properly or else have no one controlling the volume. So, throughout my whole career, I have always felt uneasy in the pulpit about making people hear me.

A bad word in the Church of Christ. We deny having seminaries. The term comes from the word semen which means seed. A seminary is an institution for the training of candidates for the priesthood, ministry, or rabbinate, according to the dictionary. We have lots of them.

A fine young man came by to tell me that he was thinking of quitting his job so he could enroll in a preacher training school and become a preacher. He wanted my advice, and he probably expected my hearty approval. I advised him, "If you want to give your life to taking the gospel to the unevangelized, that's wonderful. If you want to start a church where there is none or settle with a little group and spend your life there as a pillar in both the church and community while making your own living, power to you. But if you want to prepare yourself to compete for a pulpit in our congregations, forget it!" I see no reason to change that advice.

Preachers do not enjoy a high credibility rating. If people believed the preachers, they would have already converted the world!

Some zealous preachers are caught in the "Wolf! Wolf!" syndrome. Each lesson and each point he deals with is projected as a life-or-death issue. The current lesson is the most important thing in your life. I mused about one preacher, that he could deliver a lesson on each of the Ten Commandments and make each commandment the most important and most violated of the ten. If a speaker has only one hammer--a sledge--which he uses to drive spikes, nails, sprigs, and tacks alike, he will soon beat his listeners into insensitivity and incredibility. When everything is painted the same color, legitimate distinctions are lost.

The preacher may stack the deck. So often we recognize that he has taken advantage of his familiarity with the scriptures to select only those texts which will support his premise in a one-way communication. Even though he might support the right conclusion, he has insulted the intelligence of his hearers by his failure to present matters honestly. This is a form of prejudice even though it is slanted to the right conclusion. Truth does not need the help of prejudice. We become skeptical of imposed interpretations, conclusions, and verdicts.

A preacher's audience expects him to know the scriptures better than they do. Although they may not understand his argumentation, they may be intimidated by his conclusions. Often preachers have taken advantage of this situation and have used uncertainties to induce guilt and fear. After people learn enough to recognize the guilt-inducing techniques of the preacher, they lose confidence in him.

People may be manipulated by inflaming their prejudices, arousing them emotionally, appealing to their vanity, applying undue peer pressure, involving all in a group response, or other such means. Speaking skills and aptitude in dealing with people should never be prostituted to manipulate people to do what they would not do after sober reflection. In time, such manipulating will lower the preacher's credibility rating. This is not a problem for us mediocre preachers, though, for we have no manipulative skills.

Religious people can be cruel and feel proud of it, for the cause of "defending the truth" can give them great satisfaction in inflicting pain and violating justice.

Because of a mere slip of the tongue, an unguarded statement, or a heartfelt expression of truth by a preacher baring his soul, preachers have been dismissed without the batting of an eye. Others, and 1, have been tried and sentenced without the opportunity to face their accusers or judges. Some have found notes of dismissal on their desks with no explanation from the elders who were too cowardly to face the minister.

All of you preachers who have returned from vacation to find that you were dismissed holler "I".

We mediocre preachers get some gentle hints. Many times I have heard statements in my presence like, "What we need is a preacher who will . . .," and they insert what they consider my failure to have been.

Regardless of how efficient the preacher is, the church brings in other men to revive them at various intervals. How would you feel if your employer brought in other persons at times to do part of your work which he thinks you are not doing well enough?

Most of my two-week vacations have been short-changed to thirteen days. That meant that I came back after one Sunday's absence from the pulpit with two sermons ready the day after my vacation time was over. When was I supposed to prepare those masterpieces?

My claim to fame as a Greek scholar is that I was in some of Charles H. Roberson's classes with J. W. Roberts and Jack Lewis. That is the limit of my claim, however, for they became scholars while I can hardly read the Greek alphabet. I lacked in aptitude for that sort of thing but, if you are preparing to become a mediocre preacher, Greek isn't too high on the list.

I also lacked in money to buy a Greek New Testament or a textbook for my second year classes. Working six hours or more daily, seven days each week, at the Hilton Hotel (now, the Windsor), I also lacked in time. But I was paid well--ten dollars per month with meals! Other ACC boys worked there too as dish washers and scrubbers in those days of the Great Depression. Those fellows can understand when I say that I went through four years of college without buying a Coke, a hamburger, a movie ticket, or any other such luxury. All of my travel to and from Abilene was by a common mode of public transportation of that time--hitch-hiking. Churches did not pay the way for preacher trainees in those times.

So many times I have heard prayers before the sermon that the preacher "shun not to declare the whole counsel of God," to be followed in the dismissal prayer with: "We thank you that we have been able to study a portion of your word!" The first prayer never seems to be effective!

Before the lesson, the song leader may be heard to announce, "Our song of encouragement after the lesson will be Number 681." He is expecting such a depressing lesson that the folks will need encouragement!

The first indoor baptistry that I ever saw was in Sewell Auditorium at Abilene Christian College when I enrolled there. We had a large concrete baptistry where I grew up at Rochester, Texas, but it was outside. It was only filled for our summer meetings. The fire department filled it for us. The church did not have piped water. No plumbing. One out-house for both sexes. Modern!

My first baptism was in a surface tank (a pond to you outsiders) at Milnesand, New Mexico. It had about two feet of water and one foot of mud.

Many of my early baptisms were in watering troughs for cattle and storage tanks at windmills. One man to be baptized was much taller and larger than 1. But it looked easy enough because the water in the tank came almost to my chin. However, when I tried to submerge him, I learned almost in panic that I had very little weight to counter his buoyancy. I almost had to climb on top of him to cause him to sink.

The Church of Christ retirement plan for preachers traditionally has been: "Old preachers never die; they just move away!"

Quite a number of years ago, the church in Commerce, Texas was "looking for a preacher." The elders granted me an interview one weekday evening. An elder inquired as to what my degree major was. When I told him that it was in secondary education, he commented that their last preacher had not majored in Bible; hence, he was weak in the pulpit. I replied that I had followed Paul's example who was also prepared to make tents. He got in the last word with, "Don't you think that showed a lack of faith?" The interview went downhill from there.

Preachers have great ego and much pride. Quite a number of them through the years have told me, "I always go to churches that are having trouble and help them settle their problems." Mr. Nice Guy! "The church over in Podunk was having trouble and called me to come and get them back together again!" What really happened was that nobody else would go to such a rotten place and it was the only place that would accept him!

A preacher moves because he has problems in the church where he is. His new church has problems that caused its preacher to move. Etc. It is an endless syndrome. But when he gets to the new church and hears all the ugly complaints that caused them to fire the previous preacher, he can agree that such a rogue should have been fired. He thinks that he will be loved, accepted, and successful because he is not like the former preacher. Hope springs eternal. But usually the very ones who sent the former preacher walking will also send him walking. Give them a little time.

In dealing with the plight of the mediocre preacher, I will have to admit that often he is a big part of the problem. He wears thin. He may not continue to grow so as to lead and challenge to new heights. A busy minister has little time to study. It is hard for him to keep a proper balance in spirituality, personality, organizational and administrative ability, gravity, humor, and practicality. Negativism and bitterness can steal into his expressions unawares. He may become hung-up on an issue. Unless he is cautious, he may use the pulpit to air grievances or to lash out at certain persons. He may grow insensitive to the needs of people. Being snake bitten before, he may become aloof. He may forget that there is open season on leaders at all seasons and that he will always be shot at. He can easily become over-bearing toward non-conformists. He becomes repetitious in his expressions and mannerism, for no one can avoid these things completely when serving the same people year after year. He is dependent upon the good will of others who will allow for his humanity.

Most of us who have attempted to preach have agonized in trying to decide what subject to preach on in our next effort. We even work up lessons and, at the latest hour, change them because our heart is not in them.

Why is choosing a subject such a hard choice? I think of three main reasons. First, we are not in tune with the needs of the people who will be hearing us. Second, we have not kept in touch with God's message closely enough to discern what he would want us to tell his people. Third, few of us have the ability to create two relevant masterpieces each week, week after week, year after year. At least, not us mediocres.

I often recall the words of Red Skelton when he played the "Mean Little Kid" on his radio show. His mother was taking him to the movies. When he learned that it would be a double feature, he recited: "Roses is red, and violets is pink; if it's a double feature, one will stink!"

Can you imagine having to sit through my attempts at preaching most every Sunday, morning and evening, for forty years? Poor Lea! That's enough to give her ulcers, hypertension, dandruff, depression, insomnia, and all the ailments listed on a patent medicine bottle.

Lea has been my advisor, consultant, and encourager without which I would probably have given up long ago. Working by my side, she has been a teacher, an organizer, a leader in women's activities, and a hostess and she has made hundreds of visits with me in my ministry. While I could always sleep in spite of hurts and tensions, they were much more damaging to her.

She has been a housewife, doing very little work outside the home, and I have liked it that way. She is a communicator and has used that talent effectively with our children. Particularly because of her training and leading, our children have always brought us honor.

In our earlier married life, it was still almost sinful for a woman to work outside the home. Few churches would consider using a preacher whose wife had a job. However, as I look on it now, most preachers' effectiveness probably would be improved by their wives following a profession. There would be something else to talk about at home besides church. She would have an identity of her own. Being less involved in the tension producing elements of church work, it would help to balance the perspective of the family. And it would give the family a bit of financial security. I am convinced that any preacher can be more effective if he has a few thousands of dollars in a savings account or has a second income as a shock absorber.

Lea has always been an exceptionally beautiful woman and has loved beautiful things. On a mediocre preacher's salary, that has been frustrating for her. She has had to look for the sales, accept secondhand and hand-me-down stuff, make the best of what she had, and do without. She has always done a marvelous job in using what was available in the most artistic way. This is a part of what she has given to my, and our, ministry. Even now, she does janitorial work enabling others to have our book Free In Christ without charge. And she doesn't enjoy cleaning toilets any more than you do.

It's a pity that the preacher gets the attention and credit when his wife, who is kept in silence publicly, is an equal partner in all his work.

A woman can't lead singing, it says somewhere, but on hundreds of occasions Lea has had to lead from the audience when we had men trying to lead who couldn't pitch a song with a pitchfork--or a tuning fork either.

Surely, the Lord has some special peaceful spot reserved in heaven for mediocre preachers' wives!

Preachers get to work with and associate with the nicest people on, earth in the greatest endeavor that can challenge man. They are showered with compliments and words of encouragement. They receive preferential treatment in many ways. Doctors are especially sympathetic and nice to us and they usually want to treat us for stress.

We receive expressions of gratitude from the nobodies to whom we are courteous and attentive. The sick, bereaved, and troubled to whom we minister are always grateful. With many families I have a special attachment because of the baptisms, weddings, and funerals involving various members of the family.

Persons sometimes recall a lesson taught years ago which helped to save them from defeat or despair. The preacher and his family are mentioned to the Lord in public and private prayers. He meets leaders in the church who ask, "Do you remember teaching me when I was a child?"

I can go to most any congregation anywhere and find someone who either knows me or knows of me. I think of the hundreds of homes where we have eaten the choicest of meals prepared in love by a charming hostess. Others have taken us out to eat, often in places we could never afford to eat. Sometimes we are given discounts on purchases, and I have been relieved a few times to receive a warning instead of a ticket for a traffic violation.

People seem eager to introduce us to their friends and seem honored to be seen in public with us--in spite of the fact that I am only a mediocre preacher. And there are those, bless their hearts, who come by to say some nice thing about the lesson because they know you bombed out and they know that you know it! These are beautiful people. They all make it worth the agony.

I retire... but I do not rest.
My spirit still strives restlessly
It wanders back through the years
among those it sought to serve...
wondering...
In whose life does mine remain?
Who had love without hypocrisy?
Has my outpouring of thought
only flowed into the abyss?
Have gardens of life been seeded
or watered?
Has the flow only evaporated to
thicken the haze?
Have the sympathetic word...
the outstretched hand...
only been virtuous gestures
prostituted by a hireling
easily bargained from another?
The past gives not the answers...
Only questions.
The future holds the answers.
Trust perceives an eternal scheme
and sees the Eternal Hand
write it good.

. . . Cecil Hook