Beeson Podcast, Episode # Dr. Howard Edington Date >>Announcer: Welcome to the Beeson podcast, coming to you from Beeson Divinity School on the campus of Samford University in Birmingham, Alabama. Now your host, Timothy George. >>Timothy George: We welcome you to today’s Beeson Podcast. Dr. Robert Smith and I are here to introduce you to a great sermon from the Beeson pulpit. At Beeson, we value the importance of preaching. In fact, the mission of our school is to train pastors who can preach. We’re going to listen today to a pastor who preached at a great critical moment, at a crisis moment in his life. He did so with great passion and great impact on those who heard him. Dr. Howard Edington. When he brought this message to us in 1995 he was serving as pastor of the First Presbyterian Church in Orlando, Florida. I had invited him to give our convocation message at the beginning of the spring semester of this year. And about a week before he was scheduled to give this message his son, his only son, was tragically killed in an automobile accident. As soon as I heard this I called Dr. Edington and said to him, “You have our sympathy and our prayers in this great, great loss. And we certainly don’t expect you to fulfill this assignment.” But he said to me, “Dr. George, I must come and give this message. I have to be there to fulfill this commitment.” And so he came and spoke to us out of his heart and out of his passion of that moment. The great crisis and pain of his life. Dr. Smith had not yet joined our faculty in 1995 but you’ve had a chance to listen to this sermon. Can you tell us what we’re going to listen for as we hear Dr. Edington preach? >>Robert Smith: It would be very important for you to listen for identification. James A Sanders, who taught canonical hermeneutics at Union Theological Seminary and also Claremont School of Theology, said that biblical characters do not primarily serve us as models for morality but mirrors for identity. And this is a sermon for identification between the preacher and the hearer. This preacher takes and lifts up the idea of the witness of preaching. And he talks about what he has learned over and over again. So, he uses 1 Samuel 20:3 in which David says to Jonathan, “There’s only one step between me and death,” and then connects that with 1 Corinthians 13:13, “And now abideth faith, hope, and charity – but the greatest of these is charity.” The importance of 1 Corinthians 13:13 is for him to reside within that particular passage to show what he has learned about how they sustain him in the midst of a crisis. I really appreciate his willingness to allow truth to touch down upon life and to show that hope and faith and love will sustain us. He really believes – and the listener ought to listen for this – that the validity of our ministry really rests and is proven in the crucible of a crisis and that faith and practice are inextricably connected. So, be on the lookout for that because if our testimony, according to Howard Edington, is worth anything than it really shines when we find ourselves in the crucible of suffering and difficulty. He really does relate to some of the more powerful preachers of the last 100 years like Arthur Gossick who was a Scottish preacher and like Edington lost a child, William Slone Coffin, who also lost a child. And closes his sermon with H G Stafford’s “It Is Well With My Soul.” And so this idea of identification is tied together as a thread that runs throughout the fabric of the entire message. He emphasizes the word “only” in a real powerful way. He says that John David was his only son. He says that several times. And then he connects it with the fact that Jesus Christ was the only begotten, the one of a kind son of God, and that God gave him up for us. Therefore, he sees God as being one who does more than just sympathize or empathize with us – but one who identifies with us in that he spared not his own son but gave him up for us all that he might freely with him give us all things. There is in this chapel the presence of [inaudible 00:05:09] you feel with this preacher. But there’s also the resounding amen’s because there are people here who either directly or indirectly understand what it is like to have faith that sustains in crisis, hope that undergirds in crisis, and love that helps an individual to be an overcomer in a crisis. >>Timothy George: We invite you now to join us for this remarkable message. One of the most compelling sermons I have ever heard by Dr. Howard Edington, from the Beeson Divinity School chapel in 1995. >>Dr. Edington: I would like to hold onto the title that’s printed in your bulletin but [inaudible 00:06:01] to change what I was intending to say. And to change the reading of the word. I hope the reasons why shall become clear. [inaudible 00:06:20] 25 years of ministry I don’t know how many, many times I have read the last verse of the 13th chapter of 1 Corinthians. But suddenly now the words have taken on new meaning and new power for me. Please listen, this is the word of God. “So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” [inaudible 00:07:26] gloria, to God alone be the glory. Pray with me, please. Lord, nothing in my hands I bring. [inaudible 00:07:56] I cling. Amen. Great old King David once said, “There is but one step between me and death.” Just one step. Tell me about it. On a stormy night in the first hour of December the 21st my son, my only son, John David took that step. On city streets made slick by driving rain. John David lost control of his car and crashed into a tree. In an instant the candle of a life that had burned so brightly for 22 years was snuffed out. There is just one step between me and death said King David. Just one step. The telephones ringing in the middle of the night jolted my wife, Trisha, and me out a deep sleep. The voice on the other end said, “There are Orlando policeman at your door. Will you please let them in?” Foreboding began to rise around us like floodwaters. And then out of rain, out of the night, and into our kitchen stepped Orlando police officers and the Orlando police chaplain. His name is [inaudible 00:11:11]. I’ve known and respected him for several years. But that night I came to love him. He came delivering the worst news that any parent can ever hear. But he delivered with such extraordinary care and sensitivity. I shall never forget what he said and what he did. Very gently he said to us, “There has been a terrible accident. And your son did not survive.” He then went on to explain to us all of the circumstances of the accident they knew at that point. And then he embraced us in his great big strong loving arms. And he prayed for us with a deeply moving prayer. With his message, our hearts had been shattered. But with his prayer our hearts began the long, slow, still continuing process of mending. Not there yet. [inaudible 00:14:03] I guess because in my ministry I see so many people who have a difficult journey through life. I suppose because I believe that the validity of one’s faith and one’s ministry is proved in the testing times. I guess maybe because I seem to be able to focus on little else in recent days. I’d like to share with you now some of the things that I’ve learned over again in the death of my son. I’ve learned all over again that life is uncertain. Yes! I’ve learned all over again that there is just one step, one step separating us, separating you, separating me – just one step separating us from death. But also I learned all over again that in the midst of life’s grave uncertainties there are some things, three things to be precise, which last. There is faith, there is hope, there is love. I’ve learned all over again in the midst of life’s uncertainties faith lasts. It was without any question the toughest thing I’ve ever had to do in my whole life. On that Wednesday morning, December 21st, I had to go down to the medical examiner’s office to provide positive identification for my son. Thankfully, two of my brothers in my church, Dr. John Tolson and Dr. [inaudible 00:15:43] Brown went with me. As I stood in that place looking down at the now lifeless face of my only son, his eyes closed in death, I said, “It’s over, but it’s not over.” It’s over – yes. His life on this earth is over. There is no denying that. And there can be no denying the pain of that. It’s over! But my faith would not leave it there. My faith went on to add the phrase, “but it’s not over.” For there could be no denying that. I shall see my son again. It’s over but it’s not over. I wondered then what it would have been like for me in those moments if I hadn’t had any faith. What would it have been like for me to be in that room and all I could say was “It’s over?” I tell you I think I would have gone mad or have tried to take my own life. And I wondered then and I wonder still how in the world it is that anyone can face that kind of tragedy, or for that matter how anyone can face tragedy of any kind, without faith? Being able to say “it’s over, but it’s not over” turns unbearable grief into bearable sorrow. Some years ago now, the great Scottish preacher Arthur John Gosset lost his wife to a tragic and untimely death. When next he returned to his pulpit he preached a sermon of incredible power. The sermon began with these words, “We do not need to be afraid of life. Oh, our hearts are very frail and there are places where the road is very [inaudible 00:18:47] and very lonely. But we have a wonderful God. And [inaudible 00:18:56} what can separate from his love.” [Not death 00:10:03] Paul says immediately pushing that aside at once as the most obvious of all impossibilities. No, not death. And Paul is right. For now I, standing here in glory, [inaudible 00:19:24] to the heart with each dreadful chill and very conscious of the terror of [inaudible 00:19:30]. I can look back to you, who one day [inaudible 00:19:35] will have to cross it and I can say to you – be of good cheer my friends. For I [inaudible 00:19:46]. That’s the way I feel today. So, out of my own pain will you let me try to say a clear word to you about this ministry which is yours and mine? I want to remind you that God does not call us to preach some rose colored classes, health and wealth, pie in the sky kind of faith. I want to remind you that what we do in worship Sunday after Sunday after Sunday is not some terribly rehearsed, [inaudible 00:20:42] scripted performance akin to the theatrical stage. I want to remind you that when we take to the pulpit it is not to cater to our own egos or to play word games with our people. We have one task and one task alone and that is to preach Christ. And Christ crucified. [inaudible 00:21:22] as simplistic spiritual [inaudible 00:21:27]. And don’t dare try to tell me that I don’t really know what life in the real world is all about. Don’t dare suggest that as a preacher I am somehow insulated and isolated from the real workings of the real world. Dear friends, I have been to the bottom. I have been to where few of you, thank God, have ever been. And where a few of you, pray God, ever will be. I have been to where life hurts the most and cuts the deepest and hits the hardest. And therefore, listen to me when I tell you – the Christian faith is not some sideline activity, some pleasant doerism, some enjoyable hobby in life. The Christian faith is not something you give yourself to when it is convenient or when it helps you along on your career track or when you want to be respectable. Christianity is not just a part of your life, not just a piece of your experience. Listen to me when I tell you – see it for what it really is! Nothing less than the very center of your life. Nothing less than the foundation of your whole existence. Maybe nobody ever said it better than Dietrich Bonhoeffer. [inaudible 00:23:37] Most of all, best of all, the theologian of the heart. His theology ... not so much out of dry intellectual research but out of incredible passionate joy and passionate pain of his spiritual walk with Christ. And his words were really never meant to be printed on stone cold pages in dusty [inaudible 00:24:13] books. But rather were meant to be lived out. Day by day by day in the crucible of life, filled with a terrible and terrifying uncertainty. And it was Dietrich Bonhoeffer who said, “We must come to grips with Jesus Christ in life. For in coming to grips with Jesus Christ in life, death, salvation and damnation, and there is salvation in no one else. That is the gospel you and I are called to preach. And let me tell you something different. Nothing else in your life, no matter how important it may be to you, nothing else in your life really matters. And nothing else in your life, no matter how important it may be to you, nothing else in your life will last. For I can tell you that when the police chaplain says to you, “Your son did not survive,” you discover right there and right then that you have nothing left in life except faith. And yet because of that faith, because of my faith, I say to you today, “be of good cheer my friends. Do not be afraid. For I [inaudible 00:26:26]. And it is sound.” Faith lasts. I have to start all over again in the midst of life’s uncertainties, hope lasts. Dr. William Sloan [Coffin 00:26:56] was pastor for a number of years pastor of the Riverside Church in New York City. William Sloan Coffin and I come at the Christian faith from radically different theological perspectives. But strangely, maybe wondrously, enough we now share a common bond. You see, it was a stormy night in January of 1984 when William Sloan Coffin’s 24 year old son, Alex, was driving along the rain slick streets in Boston and lost control of his car and plunged into the Boston Harbor. Alex was killed in the crash. When William Sloan Coffin returned to his pulpit he said of his son, Alex, “Alex always [beat me 00:28:05] at every game and at every race. And now he’s beat me to the grave. But I know that when Alex beat me to grave the finish line was not the middle of the night in Boston Harbor. For if a lamp went out it was because at least for us the dawn had come.” William Sloan Coffin and I come at the Christian faith from radically different theological perspectives but we now share a common bond and I think a common hope. I think I might have put it a little differently. My son, John David, beat me to heaven. For my son, too, the dawn has come. It was our great spiritual ancestor John Calvin who said, “What would become of us if we did not take [inaudible 00:29:29], if we did not move through the darkness of this world on the path which is illuminated by the word and spirit of God?” It is upon that hope that I stand. A hope wondrously confirmed for me in a telephone call that I received. It was from a young man whose name is Robert [Minton 00:30:05]. I did not know him before the conversation. But he called me to say to me that he had been following along behind John David the night of the accident. And he went on to say, “Dr. Edington, I want you to know that your son died instantly. Because I immediately rushed to the car. I tried to find a pulse. There was none. And so I called the police and I waited for the police to arrive.” And then there was a long pause. And he said, “Dr. Edington, you don’t know me. But I feel like I know you. Because I watched you on television. I want you to know that I am a Christian. I attended Calvary Assembly of God. And I want you to know that I held your son in my arms and I prayed for him until the police arrived.” Do you have any idea what it means to me to know that when [inaudible 00:31:32] there was a disciple of Jesus Christ there to pray him home? What would become of us if we did not take our [inaudible 00:31:58]? What would become of us indeed. Hope lasts. I’ve learned all over again in the midst of life’s uncertainties that love lasts. I’ve known all along that life is serious and we all have to take it lightly. I’ve known all along that we ought not to put off for tomorrow what we ought to do today because tomorrow may never come. I mean, after all, with more than 25 years of ministry more times than I care to count and remember I had to stand at gravesides to bury those who were young. I remember the time at the cemetery and the sound of the 21 gun salute and the sounds of heels clicking to attention as young soldier boys presented the folded flag to a mother who just days before had heard a representative of the department of the Army say, “I regret to inform you that your son was killed in action.” [inaudible 00:33:01] I remember the time we carried out to the cemetery the body of a ten year old little boy had been struck by lightning in a terrible storm. I tell you, I don’t suppose that I was ever able to answer his parents question, “Why?” I remember a magnificent young man killed in a water skiing accident. And I remember trying to convince his parents that the brightest lights in the night sky are not the stars that stay fixed in their courses year after year, eon after eon, but the brightest lights in the night sky are the shooting stars. So, brief but so blazing! And they are the lights we never forget. I remember the time when I had to bury one of my best friends in life and his 14 year old son, killed by a drunk driver. I preached and I prayed as I laid them side by side there in the cemetery. I now know that I left a piece of my heart in that place. I look back across all of those years. So many it seems to me, so many, so bright, so full of life, so brilliant, so happy – and yet cut down before their time. And I remember how [inaudible 00:34:42] to try to help their parents to try to find some way to try to live on. Now, I too have lost a son. And it’s been good for me to remember that God lost a son as well. God gave his son to die for my son and for us all. And when God’s son died [inaudible 00:35:35] sat by the grave for awhile and mourned a bit. Until Easter he gave to his son and to my son and to all who believe in his son the gift of eternal life. His love lasts. It was back around Christmastime in 1981, the five of us of the Edington family were in the Holy Land. My wife, Trisha, my three children: May, Beth, and John David. And one day we were going to visit Mt Tabor, known as the Mount of Transfiguration. The road to the top of Mt Tabor is very twisty and narrow, a treacherous path. Our driver for some reason decided that it was his task to get us up to the top in record time. And so we went careening up this narrow, twisty, treacherous road, flirting with disaster every second of the way. I took the front seat with the driver. Trisha was in the back seat with May, Beth, and John David. John David was nine years old at the time. Suddenly John David leaned up over the back seat and he said, “Hey dad, give me that little bible that you always carry in your pocket.” I said, “Why?” He said, “Because I think we’re going to die on this mountain.” (laughter) “And when I die I want to be reading the bible so that God will know that I belong to him.” But of course God already knew. [inaudible 00:37:40] Because God so loved my son that he gave his son. The loss of my son hurts. The wound is deep. But the wound is [healed 00:38:05]. Because I know how I loved him. And how he loved me. How God loves both of us. Dear friends, if you don’t hear anything else in this sermon, please hear this. If you don’t remember anything else from this convocation, please remember this. If you don’t do anything else in response to this experience, please do this. Love while you still can love. Make the most of any moments which are yours because too soon they may be gone. And then you will be left with nothing but your memories. So, build the good memories in your life. I plead with you today in the name of Jesus Christ – love. Love those who God has given you to love. Love them while you still can. I did that. And now I’m so glad. Love lasts. I’ve been helped by remembering that back in the 1873 H G Spafford, Christian lawyer in Chicago put his wife and his four children onto the ocean liner [Ville du Havre00:39:56] to send them from New York to France. It was his intention to follow along several weeks later after he had finished some business at home. The ocean voyage began immediately for the mother and the four children. But then on the evening of November 21, 1873 Ville du Havre in the seas of the Atlantic ocean was struck by another vessel [inaudible 00:40:26]. Within 30 minutes the Ville du Havre sank, carrying with her almost everybody on board. Miraculously Mrs. Stafford was rescued by the sailors of the Ville du Havre. But the four children were gone. She then wired a message home to her husband. A message which read simply, “Saved. Alone.” All through the night H G Spafford took to the floors of his home in terrible anguish. But also deep prayer. And then just before the dawn he said to his good friend, Major [Whipple 00:41:21], “I’m so glad that I can trust my God when it costs me something.” Later on, reflecting on his experience, he wrote a hymn. The tune to that hymn carries the name of that ship on which his four children died. [inaudible 00:41:53] The words of the hymn have strengthened many a soul over the years. And now they are strengthening mine. “When peace like a river attendeth my way. When sorrows like sea billows roll. Whatever my lot, thou has taught me to say it is well, it is well with my soul.” Dear, dear friend. It is costing terribly to say this to you today but when the waters are deep in your life, when the sorrows like sea billows roll, you can say it and know it will be true. In Christ, it is well, it is well with my soul. >>Rob Willis: You’ve been listening to the Beeson podcast; coming to you from the campus of Samford University. Our theme music is by Advent Birmingham. Our announcer is Mike Pasquarello. Our engineer is Rob Willis. And our show host is Doug Sweeney. For more episodes and to subscribe, visit www.BeesonDivinity.com/podcast. You can also find the Beeson Podcast on iTunes and Spotify.