November 8 – “Thank you, Grayson Glass”

We got word on Sunday that one of those icons from the past had died.  Well, he was at least an icon from my past.  When I got the message I shared it with one of the gentlemen at Seaside.  He thought for just a second or two, then his eyes brightened with recognition, he smiled just a bit, and said, “Oh you mean THE Grayson Glass.  The guy who is in your story.”  In my story indeed.  Grayson Glass was intimately involved at three key junctures of my life, so his memory is forever indelibly stamped on my brain and in my heart. 

When I was one of those bumbling, long-haired seniors in high school back when the dates had a 19 in front and a 70-something at the end, I was actively involved as an acolyte at my Episcopal church.  But I started dating a young lady who was just as active in the youth group activities at First Baptist Church.  And as young love goes, it seemed my Sunday morning destiny was to leave my church (which ended at 10:30) and head over to the Baptist church (which started at 11:00) so I could sidle up next to that sweet young thing and secretly hold her hand during church.  I have to say I didn’t understand much of what was going on during the service, though.  I couldn’t even figure out which one of the men who stood up during the service was the actual priest.  None of them were wearing robes or even a shirt with one of those white collars.  One thing did strike me about the adults in that church, though.  Any time I did muster enough courage to ask a question, whoever it was, without exception, pointed me to look for the answer in the Bible.  A clear source of authority rather than “Because I told you so.”  I liked that. 

Oh, and speaking of authority, the pastor at the time was none other than Grayson Glass.  He was the one who spoke at length every Sunday.  He was the one who made it clear that he didn’t think much of long hair on boys.  He was the one … I was petrified of.  Scared me to death just to be around him.  And that fear almost prevented me from accepting the offer of salvation once I finally understood that it was being offered to me, personally.  That happened at a youth choir retreat.  Can you imagine?  Me in a choir?  But singing was my girlfriend’s passion, so what choice did I have?  At this retreat I was challenged by the guest speaker to give my heart to Jesus.  And I was ready to do it.  Right up until he said, “Walk over here and talk to your pastor.”  Wait.  That’s the guy who hates long hair.  That’s the one who strikes fear into me.  That’s Grayson Glass.  It took about 53 verses of a song (I found out later they were waiting for me) before I gave up and cautiously made my way to him.  I said, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel, but I want to do this.”  He loudly responded, “Son, does the Bible say anything about how you are supposed to feel?”  I let him know quickly, “I don’t know.  I’ll just take your word for it.”  He then talked me through (a little more quietly) a prayer that has completely changed my life.  Thank you for that, Grayson Glass.

But Grayson’s influence didn’t stop there.  A few months later a good friend and future college roommate, David, was going to make one of those college visits where you get to skip school.  He invited me to go with him, so I made a quick call home to get permission and joined him on the steps to wait for his ride.  And who should drive up to pick us up but … Grayson Glass.  Now, I was still more than a little bit intimidated by the guy, but he seemed to be warming up to me.  At least a little bit.  And he never mentioned my hair.  As we drove away from the school it hit me.  I had no idea what college we were going to visit.  Not that it really mattered.  I was getting a free skip from class all day.  And I had no idea where I wanted to attend anyway.  As it turned out, the visit was to Houston Baptist College.  Once again these Baptists never ceased to amaze me.  An entire college?  What would they think of next. 

I remember on the way that Grayson asked me what I wanted to major in.  That was the first time I had seriously confronted something that had been playing in my mind even before I connected with the Baptists - and with Jesus.  See, I had literature at the head of my bed on how to enter the priesthood.  God was already working on my heart regarding a call to ministry, but at the time I had no idea how to express that.  I did know the Baptists didn’t have priests, but  I didn’t know what else to call it, so I said, "Social work."  That sure started me thinking seriously about more clearly defining where I was headed in life.  Thanks for that, Grayson Glass.  But that was just a bonus along the way. 

Once we got to the college and took our tour, we ended up in the financial aid officer’s office.  David got his questions answered while I quietly twiddled my thumbs in the background.  Until suddenly the officer turned his attention to me and asked, “Will you need financial aid, too?”  Taken off guard, I managed to blurted out, “Well, how much does it cost?”  He gave an answer, and I didn’t even have to think about it.  I replied, “Oh, yeah.”  So he started with his figuring and “Hmm’s” and “Okay’s.”  Things didn’t appear to be looking so good.  But I noticed movement off to my right.  Grayson was making his way to the officer’s desk.  And then around behind the desk.  And then he was directly at the guy’s side.  And then he spoke, “Ken, he’s ranked number ten in his class.  Out of 1500.”  Wait, what?  How did he know that?  Is that even true?  (I certainly had no idea.  I checked with the registrar when we got back to the school.  He was right).  The officer kind of glanced up over his shoulder at that imposing Grayson Glass presence, fiddled some more with the papers in front of him, and declared, “OK.  Looks like we have a scholarship for you as well.”  (I had no idea at the time, but Grayson just happened to be the on the college’s board of directors).  And so my college career was determined.  Thank you again, Grayson Glass.

Finally, fast forward many years.  I was ending my exile to the mainland and returning to the Island.  We were staying with my parents when I got a totally unexpected phone call … from Grayson Glass.  Seems he was the interim pastor at a little mission church on the West End of the Island, and, in his own words, “I’m killing this place.”  Now you have to understand something here.  Grayson Glass was always the picture of perfection on a Sunday morning.  Suit always perfectly fitted and tie never even a fraction of an inch out of place.  There was a “right” way to do things during a worship service, and he knew exactly what that right way was.  But here’s the thing.  The “right way” just wasn’t working at the Seaside Mission.  I asked what he meant by “killing this place.”  He responded with a tirade: “They don’t care about wearing a coat and tie.  They don’t care about starting on time or finishing on time.  They bring coffee into the sanctuary.  They …”  And he went on and on for at least five minutes.  He concluded with, “So can you come out here and help me?”  Well, those of you who know me can guess my answer to that one.  “You just described heaven.  How do I get there?”  I filled in for him several times over the course of that summer, and by the end of August the pastor search team came to me and said, “You’re here all the time anyway.  Why don’t you just stay and be our pastor?”  That, folks, was twenty-one years ago.  I’m still at Seaside.  And I absolutely love it.  So I guess I’ll say one last time … Thank you, Grayson Glass. 

Ephesians 1:13-14 says, “And you also were included in Christ when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation. Having believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God's possession — to the praise of his glory.”

Father, thank you for the life and influence of Grayson Glass.  Walk with his family as they do their best to rejoice at the great life Grayson is enjoying with you.  Amen.