By David Melton
Our August term (we call it A-term), a late version of summer school, has already begun here at Boston Baptist College. By the time you read this, the trickle of students returning will have turned into a steady stream. Everybody always wants to know how many students we have, and, in time, we will have a total headcount to publicize. But even more than the headcount, what makes Boston successful (or would lead to its failure) is an analysis of the heart. Do our students — however many we have — capture a passion for Christ and His churches? Do they really learn to think biblically — that phrase that we in Boston talk about constantly? Does what they learn translate into what they do and what they are?
I got a lesson in that this past week. It was something of a puppet show.
I’d better give you a little background. Her name is Deb Eccles, and she is a phenomenal children’s ministry director, along with her husband, for Pastor Karl Skinner and Battlefield Baptist Church in Gainesville, Virginia. One of our key staff people, Karen Fox, booked Deb and a team from Battlefield to come and be part of one of our Student Development events called Paradigm last spring. Deb and her whole crew brought an entire puppet ministry, trained students to use them, and wowed us all. Man, my concept of church puppets were a few old gym socks with goofy faces painted on them. Deb’s puppets were, well, shall I just call them 21st century puppets? Absolutely amazing. I even convinced Deb to graciously stay around Boston an extra day to do a puppet workshop for my church. I want my church to have some of that.
The workshop and the whole team from Battlefield were fantastic. But nothing came of it at our church. People liked it, but nobody would commit. Don’t get me wrong, I would love to do these kinds of puppets, but I’m having quite a time keeping up with what is already on my plate. I wanted puppets, but even Pinocchio needs his Geppetto. And my church has been downright Geppetto-less.
Then came last Sunday. Our first two Boston students came back to church since they were back in town for A-term. Just before Sunday school started, one of them, Sarah, asked if she could tell me something. You pastors out there, you know this feeling, don’t you? When somebody needs to tell you something just before a service starts, how often is that good news? I got prepared for one of those “Just want you to know that God is leading me to some other church” kind of thing! Call me paranoid, but most of us pastors are. We can’t much help it. We’ve read this script before!
So I stepped over to talk with Sarah and take it like a man. It started out something like “I’ve been thinking and praying about something all summer and I just wanted to tell you…” (My pessimistic heart was already on the floor. “Don’t give me bad news at this moment!”) Sarah went on, “… that puppet thing, can I do that?”
I’m sure she saw a pretty dumb look on my face. Then I got this goofy smile. “Are you serious?” I asked. “I’ve been mourning over a puppet dream unfulfilled since Deb Eccles drove out of town!” I’m still buoyed days later. I thought this was something you ought to hear. Boston students are not perfect, but by and large they care deeply for the Lord’s work, and many, many of them are already doing that work, even in their first year of college! Sarah Green is very special; she’s a bright, energetic young lady out of John Arnold’s church in Pennsylvania who has grown up realizing that “only God can do these things.” But she and her friend, Kayla Flowers, made one pastor’s day because they caught the vision. I have other Boston students who serve tirelessly at our church, and I know that is happening all over the Boston area. Our students teach children, run youth groups, do grunt work for baby churches, lead worship — fill in gaps. I know of several of our students who stayed in Boston all summer because they wouldn’t part with the ministries they are doing in partner churches.
I see it all the time, and still I forget it — until last Sunday. So I wanted to remind you, too. When your church supports Boston, you are helping to frame church leaders. That isn’t just theory or platitude. Need proof? Come to our church and I’ll let you ask Kermit the frog or any of his friends. This good news is as plain as the nose on Pinocchio’s face.