Picture taken at Poly High School, Fort Worth Texas, 1950. (Left to right) Back row ?, Mel Henderson, ?, George Feather. Front row ?, Billy Don Sherman, Miss Nina Terry
The Baptist world is fairly small. When I started in church work, I traveled to Baptist meetings all across the country (Kansas City, Dallas, Atlanta, St. Louis, San Antonio, Las Vegas (yes that’s right), and New Orleans). Baptist would gather for meetings, preaching, and arguing. During that process, I came into contact with lots of Baptist leaders.
One was James Dunn. He was the head of the Baptist group in Washington D.C. that was given the task of making sure the government did not forget that all Americans have freedom of religion. It is easy for the people in power to ignore the fringe and marginal groups, but since Baptist started as a fringe and marginal group that was persecuted, taxed, ignored and oppressed for years we know how important it is to stand up for the little guy. James was a fantastic guy and I was proud to get to know him. He and my mother were great friends in college and he took me under his wing as if I were his own.
My parents pastor was Baker James Cauthen. He was a legend in Baptist work. He was a missionary in China and endured great suffering there. He eventually directed all of the work of Southern Baptist Missionaries. In my second semester at Seminary, I had him for a class on missions. It was amazing. My parents were so proud that I got to sit at the feet of their pastor and learn.
Cecil Sherman was a pastor I got to know. He eventually became the head of the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship and I have a chance to be with him on lots of occasions. I used to watch him on TV on Sunday nights. He was a great preacher. His daughter became a friend in our church in Dallas. He was from Fort Worth and my mom and my dad both knew him, but he was a little older than them. Cecil is one of my heroes.
Cecil’s little brother was Bill. He is seated on the front row of this picture. Bill is a baptist pastor. The first time I met Bill I told him I was Mel Henderson’s son. He nearly exploded. He told me about the day that my dad joined the crutch club at Poly High School in 1950. My dad was playing soccer and got kicked in the shin. The sound of his leg breaking was the story that Bill wanted to tell me. I met Bill on 4 or 5 occasions over a 15 year period of time. Every single time I would introduce myself he would tell me the story again.
My parents were in the orbit of some great leaders and they held these people up as heroes. I formulated opinions about people by the way my parents talked about them, the way they introduced me to them. I learned deep respect for God’s servants. It made it easier to become a pastor. I wonder what is being taught to children and grand children these days. What professions are we proud of? What individuals are you proud of? There are so many bad stories in the world of people that get it wrong, but there are more stories of people who get it right. Make sure you are pointing out the people doing a good job.