Doctor Bob

Finally "online" at the homestead...

I promised Len Hjalmarsson that I'd include a story about Bob Roxburgh in today's post. Len heard Bob speak at the ALLELON gathering in Idaho recently, and it reminded me of the one and only time I've ever heard Bob Roxburgh speak:

Over a decade ago, I was in the process of being fired from a church because I had been labelled "too Vineyard". Well, technically, I "resigned", but if you've ever been in a hostile environment where life is being made as unbearable as possible, it's functionally being fired. I think the word is "duress"...

But I digress...

In the midst of the pain, feelings of betrayal and disillusionment, as I watched my very first pastoral position turning into something less than what I had hoped for, I really felt alone and that there was no-one I could get pastoral insight or counsel from. One of the most amazing youth leadership teams we've ever had the privilege of serving with, "The Dead Prophet Society", had become a difficult place for everyone. The "DPS" were our closest friends and co-labourers, and suddenly they found themselves caught in a maelstrom of church politics and power plays, and none of us had a grid for processing it. My last official pastoral duty was locking up the church after the midnight Christmas Eve service, and then tossing my keys back into the church through the mail slot. It was a very dark time.

During that hard season, just a few weeks before the Christmas Eve service, the phone rang in my office, and I heard an unfamiliar female voice asking if she could schedule me for a lunch appointment with Dr. Bob Roxburgh. I had heard of Bob by reputation, but I had never met him nor heard him speak, although I was aware that he pastored a Baptist church downtown. I agreed to a time and a restaurant, and the secretary (I assume) told me that Dr. Bob would meet me there.

At the appointed time and place, Bob showed up and treated me to pumpkin pie and coffee. Over our one hour together, Bob delicately probed the situation I was experiencing, and allowed me to sort through some of my thoughts and feelings through his wise combination of insightful inquiries, and lots of reflective listening.

As the close of our far-too-brief hour arrived, Bob gave me the only piece of pastoral advice that he was to offer that day.

Stirring his coffee, seemingly fascinated with the concentric swirls he was creating in the cup, he said, "Tell me, Rob, how old are you?"

"I'm 30," I replied, and waited.

Bob took his time, stirring his coffee slowly and deliberately. Still gazing thoughtfully into his cup, he softly told me, "You're still quite young. You have many, many years of fruitful ministry ahead of you."

Then he stopped stirring, carefully placed his spoon on the napkin beside his empty pie plate, and finally locked eyes with me.

"Unless you grow bitter."

His gaze held mine for what seemed an eternity, as he watched the lesson sink deep into my soul.

"Guard your heart, young man, guard your heart."

Then he paid our bill, bade me farewell, and that was the last I ever saw of him.

I need to point out that if Bob hadn't called me for that meeting, I wouldn't have thought less of him. I didn't know him; I had no expectations of him. Dr. Bob simply went out of his way, with no possible gain for himself, to encourage and admonish a young pastor in crisis.

I hope I see him again someday. I thanked him on that day in 1992, but I'm more grateful now than ever.