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Preacher: Elam Jonathan Anderson
Eulogy given at Elam’s Memorial
Service Jan 10, 2015
By his son, Jonathan Anderson,
August
l7, 1958 my father Elam J. Anderson preached a sermon from the
pulpit of Lakeshore Baptist Church in Oakland California; the
church that was sending him and a small entourage to plant a new
congregation in the Blossom Hill neighborhood of San Jose.
it's
a wonderful sermon, filled with all the zealous themes of a fiery,
red-headed, Evangelical Baptist Preacher. And though his rhetoric
softened ever so slightly throughout the years, the CHALLENGING
CONTENT of what he preached that day did not fade.
Despite eventual rejection by
the powerful families who helped plant that church,
across the soul-searching
transition from Baptist to Methodist polity and doctrine,
throughout mostly-three-year
appointments from church-to-church,
and unto a marginalized
reception by both Methodist and Baptist circles in his retirement.
His
was not the commonly called "Social Gospel" that watered down the
historic Truths of Scripture
and rendered Mainline Clergy as little more than "Social Workers in Robes."
No. The Gospel Elam
Anderson lived and breathed
at
home.
in
the pulpit,
in
the living rooms of church members,
on
the floor of denominational conventions,
and in each of the
communities in which he too-briefly resided,
his Gospel was one of Hope
in and Salvation through Jesus Christ followed by responsibility
and service as obedient and maturing Disciples.
This
"Church
Planting" sermon from 1958 put before the people Jesus‘ dual
commission to "make
disciples" and then "feed
his sheep." To
introduce, nurture and invite people into a Saving Relationship
with Jesus Christ in all his biblical/scriptural/orthodox
Glory...and then to school, train, mentor and deploy believers to
repeat and perpetuate that pattern until the Whole World would See Jesus.
We
could almost read the entire Epistle of James and just call it a
day!
But the passage read by
Steve Sprecher (James 3113-1 8) was significant in that it
was dad's last devotional, Sunday night after his five sons
and their families had left for their own homes after
a Christmas gathering here in McMinnville...the first gathering in several years when all
five of us were together at one time.
The
devotional
was from this William Barclay commentary series ... the pages
tattered and yellowed by years of working his way through one
edition and then the next, and then starting all over again. Both the scripture passage
from James 3 and the commentary by Barclay were fitting snapshots
of Dad's character: a "man of the true wisdom of God." James
the brother of Jesus needed eight words to define this "wisdom from
above". Picture how each of these fit Elam's character:
pure.
peaceable.
considerate.
willing
to yield.
full of mercy.
Full of good fruits,
undivided in mind. and
without hypocrisy
Like
the 12 points of the Scout Oath, that I think Dad helped me
memorize about the same time he began teaching me some of the
Psalms beside my bed each night...
A
Scout is Trustworthy, Loyal Helpful,
Friendly,
Courteous, Kind,
Obedient,
Cheerful, Thrifty,
Brave,
Clean and Reverent.
Dad was all of these, and
more! It should be no wonder that those character qualities
find ready parallels in scripture: founder Lord Baden-Powell
established Scouting as a way to instill the lifelong PRACTICE of
Christian faith in ways that were tangible, exciting, and of a
practical benefit to society. In fact, the current tagline for Boy
Scouts of America is “Prepared.
For Life.”
Some
of my brothers will most likely comment on Dad's lifelong
volunteering in the Scouting program and his heart's satisfaction
at nudging all five sons through to Eagle Scout.
But dad's MINISTRY with men,
women and children was just like that. Looking back through
his sermons these last two weeks, I find them to be heavily
weighted with constant appeals for church-attenders to
internalize the Gospel of Jesus Christ and live it out in their
daily interactions with family, friends and foes alike.
The
Beatitudes
from Jesus‘ "Sermon on the Mount" was one of those early passages Dad taught me at
night before tucking me in (Matthew 5: 1-16):
3 “Blessed are the poor in
spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
4 Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
5 Blessed are the meek,
for they will inherit the earth.
6 Blessed are those who hunger
and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
7 Blessed are the merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.
8 Blessed are the pure in
heart, for they will see God.
9 Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called children of God.
10 Blessed are those who are
persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the
kingdom of heaven.
I1 ‘Blessed we you when people
insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil
against you because of me.
12
Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward n heaven, for in
the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
That last one was a
Beatitude Dad practiced consistently.
No one could fault his PASTORAL CARE — he visited in
homes and hospitals, took
communion, spent long hours with the grieving. But many took
exception to his continual
outreach to people OUTSIDE of the church, as well as his constant
"sticking his nose" into local political affairs dealing with
public morality:
In particular. I recall his
one-man campaign in Monroe against a City campaign to extend
liquor incenses to 2 dozen establishments in a town with only 800
residents. I don‘t remember whether he influenced the vote — but I
DO know he was reviled for his outspokenness.
Many.
many times dad imposed his own Christian maturity upon his sons
something none of us could appreciate at the time, but in adult
retrospect, I now can see
the ‘Heavy Guidance‘ of his ‘Take it Like a Man" Christian
witness...
Like the time a 4th Grade
bully followed for several blocks heckling me with "F - Word"
verbs...until I'd had it and shouted back that he must be a
certain "F - Word" noun if he wanted to do that to me! (A MOMENT
TO DO THE TRANSLATION) This boy. who happened to be our newspaper
carrier, then had the gall to ring our doorbell and tell my dad
what l'D CALLED HIM What did dad do? He made us EACH apologize and
shake hands.
There was no room in Dad's
living testimony for playing the victim. Despite MY wanting at
that moment for a Papa Bear to rip this bully to shreds, Dad the Peacemaker refused
to usurp God's prerogative alone to pass judgment and exact vengeance
against oppressors.
Several
years later, in another town, one of the boys in our scout troop
threw eggs at my back during a summer camp fund-raising work party
at a local chicken farm. Livid,
l demanded that dad do something or tell the boy's father. With
fire in his eyes, Dad refused, and attempting to build my own
sensitivity, he told me - from having been in the boy's home - how
the boy was literally horse-whipped by his own father whenever he
got in trouble of any kind.
Certainly not an excuse for
the boy's behavior, but definitely a lesson to ME about weighing
the value of my personal offense against likely contributors to
my offender’s behavior.
But
by far the biggest life lesson I learned was through sheer
observance in 1970. We lived in the parsonage across the street
from the Filer, Idaho, United Methodist Church. Brother James was
newborn and freshly returned home with Mom from the Twin Falls
hospital. The neighbors one door down, were laughing and drinking
and having a party -- blasting loud music as they apparently did
on a regular basis. On a particular Spring evening, as I watched
in my fire truck pajamas from the sidewalk at the edge of the
property line, dad went next door, and as clearly as if it were
yesterday, I remember the scene:
Dad knocked loudly on the
door several times until a large and bristly man opened and
stepped chest-to-chest with my dad. Speaking loudly over the
thumping music Dad said with bridled courage. "l've asked you
before several times. and l kindly ask you again...we've got
children and a new baby trying to sleep...would you please tone
down your music?"
The man turned red in the
face and tensed his muscles offensively. Staring nose-to-nose, Dad took
off his glasses and said boldly. "Go ahead, hit me -- if it
would make you feel more like a man!"
The man was flustered,
stepped backward and shut his door. The music was suddenly much
quieter.
Dad
was Meek -- not weak, not a doormat, but that which Chuck Swindoll
likened to "a Clydesdale horse: brute strength in complete
submission to its master.”
William
Barclay
paraphrased verse 13 of James 3 well:
"Is there any of you who
wishes to be a real sage and a real teacher? Then let him live a
life of such beautiful graciousness that he will prove to all
that gentleness is enthroned as the controlling power within his
heart."
Dad was such a teacher.
James continued:
3: i7- 18 The wisdom which comes
from above is first pure, then peaceable, considerate. willing
to yield, full of mercy and of good fruits, undivided in mind, without hypocrisy. For
the seed which one day produces the reward which righteousness
brings can only be sown when personal relationships are right,
and by those whose conduct produces such relationships.
Again.
Barclay’s commentary elucidates:
The true wisdom is epieikes.
Of all Greek words in the New Testament, this word [here
translated ”CONSIDERATE] is the most untranslatable. Aristotle defined it
as that “which is just beyond the written law" and as “justice
and better than justice" and as that "which steps in to correct
things when the law itself becomes unjust."
The man who is epieikes
is the man who knows when
it is actually wrong to apply the strict letter of the law.
He knows how to forgive when strict justice
gives him a perfect right to condemn.
He knows how to make
allowances, when not to
stand upon his rights, how to temper justice with mercy,
always remembers that there are greater things in the world than
rules and regulations. It is impossible to find an English word
to translate this quality [but as a complex definition such as] the ability to extend
to others the kindly
consideration we would wish to receive ourselves.
Dad
was a man of the Golden Rule.
These
were the last words Dad read before his final night of sleep -- a
sleep that was deep and restful -- having read a passage and
commentary that validated Elam Anderson's entire life witness at
home, in the community, and from the pulpits that rarely
appreciated what an amazing Under-Shepherd they had been
assigned!
Dad
was also a man WITHOUT HYPOCRISY. Living what he preached, and
preaching to many who treated Church as a Kiwanis Club — he would
oft be rejected due to his refusal (or inability) to play the
games of positioning and placation among power brokers,
congregational and denominational.
And that is a trait that I
am VERY proud to have inherited, even if only to a lesser degree
of consistency than that lived out by my father.
Another
trait I am thankful to my father for instilling in me is the
mandate in both Old Testament and New for ministry to the widow,
orphan and alien, another
Christ-honoring maxim that has always been a thorn in the
country-club Christian‘s side wherever congregants are insulated
from faith-based persecution themselves.
In
a sermon originally written as a final paper for a 1964 Pastoral
Psychology course at Andover-Newton in Massachusetts, dad posed
difficult questions that he oft repeated from pulpits in later
congregations. Preaching from Mark 1:21-27, where Jesus is
teaching in the Synagogue and exorcises the demons from a man who
bursts in and says "We know who you are: the Holy One of God. What
do you want with us?"
(BY
THE WAY, DAD GOT AN "A" ON THIS PAPER!)
Here's
what he wrote:
What would happen next Sunday
if a demented man were to come in and seek to interrupt the
morning church worship? Would the ushers be alert to steer him
out into a quiet room while some assistant slipped away to
telephone the police, and thus neatly, smoothly dispose of the
interruption? This would be the procedure of any of a thousand
well-organized churches.
...But there is no real cause
for panic: The chance of anyone getting disturbed during one of
our services, or of any disturbed person finding his way inside,
is extremely slight.
However, there is another
kind of church...where such an interruption by a mentally ill
person is not at all uncommon, but where he or she would be
given very different attention. The sermon, the special music,
the offering, even the scripture reading, would be cast aside
with unspoken common consent.
The whole church -- not
just the preacher -- would gather about that
poor creature and in the spirit of Jesus, talk, pray and
literally raise hell with that poor soul. And if the devil
within did not give up as easily as it apparently did for Jesus,
the congregation would set up a prayer vigil until the demon
yelled uncle.
What kind of church do you
belong to? To which kind do I?
And in which kind would Jesus feel most at home?
DAD
WAS NOT A SENTIMENTAL HUMANlST — he was not a "social worker in
robes." He was a
Preacher of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, a believer in the Son of
the Loving Father and Sacrificial Savior of the World.
Among
Dad's sermons I found an undated funeral meditation on the 23rd
Psalm, which concludes, Surely goodness and mercy
shall follow me all he days of my life, and I shall dwell in the
house of the Lord forever. He
wrote this:
One of the great mysteries of
the Bible is the steadfast faith of the generations of sons and
daughters of Abraham who . . . could aspire to moral virtue and
selfless living, often with great personal sacrifice, yet
without the promise of an eternal life in heaven. But David, perhaps looking far down the years
to that Savior who would be called "Son of David,” reached out in a
faith far above those about him when he said, "I shall
dwell in the house of the Lord forever." What a faith! What a
promise it gives to us as we turn again to life, that each of us
may say “I
too, as I
trust in the Lord as my
Shepherd, I shall dwell
in His house, forever.”
Dad is now IN THAT HOUSE.
And without doubt, I
believe this: a thousand times more than Elam Jonathan Anderson
wanted his five sons to attain Eagle Scout, he wanted — and is
perhaps interceding this very moment — to see ALL of his Loved
Ones to one day join him in that House with Many Rooms which Jesus
is preparing for those who place their Trust in Him.
l
have no words left to say. I
have only a finger to point towards Dad's life witness — his
day-by-day example— but
also the Gospel he preached, of Salvation through Jesus Christ,
which was the reason behind the Life he lived.
From
a Goodbye article he wrote in the Philomath UMC newsletter, I will
close with this:
Without God, "Hello" and
"Goodbye" are hollow, vanishing echoes in an endless night. But
with Him and His Peace- — "shalom" — the world becomes an
adventure in relationships . . . As [ the hymn writer] puts it,
"Because He Lives, I can face tomorrow..."
and I can face all of the
"hellos" and "goodbyes" life demands of me.
Goodbye,
Daddy.
I will see you on the Morrow.
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