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    What If?: A Collection of First-Person, New Testament Sermons
    What If?: A Collection of First-Person, New Testament Sermons
    What If?: A Collection of First-Person, New Testament Sermons
    Ebook83 pages1 hour

    What If?: A Collection of First-Person, New Testament Sermons

    By Kenneth F. Brown and Randy A. Marshall

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    About this ebook

    What if you could have been an insider to some of the greatest stories ever told?
    What If? is a ministry resource intended for Christian lay readers, deacons, and pastors. These first-person, narrative "stories" may be thought of as sermons, messages, homilies, or monologues. They were developed over the fifty years of the Reverend Kenneth Brown's pastoral ministry.
    In this collection of popular sermons, Kenneth Brown provides an insider's perspective. Brown recounts biblical stories from the points of view of New Testament characters, inviting the audience to take a look behind the scenes, feeling the Judean sun on their backs and tasting of the water from the well of Jacob. Writing as a trained theologian and lifelong pastor, Brown combines his imagination with biblical accounts and known archeological, cultural, and political facts.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherResource Publications
    Release dateJul 10, 2019
    ISBN9781532689208
    What If?: A Collection of First-Person, New Testament Sermons
    Author

    Kenneth F. Brown

    Kenneth F. Brown, a lifelong Texan, graduated from Howard Payne University in Brownwood, Texas, majoring in English and biblical Greek. After earning his Master of Theology in Biblical Greek from Southwestern Baptist Seminary, he studied educational psychology at the University of Texas in Austin. Brown served as a Baptist pastor for fifty years, then retired to teach Bible study and biblical Greek in South Texas, where he lives with his wife of over sixty-five years.

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      Book preview

      What If? - Kenneth F. Brown

      Introduction

      These stories may be thought of as sermons or messages or homilies. They developed over the nearly fifty years of pastoral ministry that occupied my life. In an effort to make the biblical narratives that are repeated so often at Christmas and Easter and other special occasions more enjoyable, I sometimes resorted to stories.

      Imagination plays a great part, but I have tried to stay as close to the biblical basis as possible in each story. Using a what if approach, I tried to develop storylines that would elicit interest, suspense, and a spiritual conclusion. I especially hoped to capture the attention of younger listeners, who always enjoy a story. Whether I succeeded in any fashion is debatable, but some friends and family thought these stories worthwhile. It is always intriguing to image how Peter might have reacted or the shepherds responded.

      What if we could have been an insider to some of the greatest stories ever told?

      Kenneth F. Brown

      November 2018

      That Night

      Luke 2:1–20

      That night was not nearly so cold as most nights had been that winter, and the heavy, late rains had stopped suddenly four days previously. Elihu, my grandfather, had called our attention to the strangeness of the week, and as the elder in our camp, he thought it significant. Abdon and I listened with all due respect and promptly forgot about it. Later on, we would remember these little things and say knowingly to each other, "Adonai etzer. The Lord was helping." It is so much easier to travel when there is no rain.

      For days, the roads had been full of people coming and going for the census.

      From Migdal Eder, the tower of the flock, we watched the groups moving down the hill from Bethlehem, heading north out of the valley, toward Jerusalem. We saw others coming over the hills from Jerusalem to climb the long slopes to Bethlehem until the town was filled with visitors. Only at night did the traffic stop, and we sat around our campfire talking about the many strangers in our little village.

      My people had been shepherds for nearly two hundred years. It was a mean job. Common sense called it low-down work, and men who did it were regarded as trash. But we were no ordinary shepherds. My forefathers fought for Israel’s freedom under the Hammer John Hyrcanus, and so to my family came the honor of keeping the sheep that were kadoshim, dedicated to God. They were destined to be sacrificed at the Temple services. We never were able to attend ourselves, but we were given special provision under the Law that we might be forgiven our absences. However, Grandfather Elihu made certain that we observed the holy days as best we could. He knew a great deal of Scripture from memory, and we were expected to learn it also. In fact, the Sabbath before that night, we had learned about a promise foretold by the prophet Micah. It was to gleam with the light of fulfillment:

      But thou, Bethlehem Ephratah, though thou be little among the thousands of Judah, yet out of thee shall He come forth unto me that is to be the ruler of Israel, whose goings forth have been from of old, from everlasting.

      Abdon, my cousin, was sixteen, and I was fifteen-and-a-half that winter. We had great fun together. He was the best shot with a sling that I ever knew, but he wasn’t as good at tracking lost sheep as I was. He could whip me wrestling, but he wasn’t nearly as good as I was at making reed flutes. We had plenty of time for play, since our flock was seldom bothered by jackals or wild dogs. In fact, our only real trouble was with two-legged jackals who tried to steal the sheep. Imagine stealing an animal that is kadosh, God’s own possession. Except for moving the flocks, gathering wood, and trips into town to help father or Uncle Reuben with food supplies, we were not too busy. One job we didn’t like was preparing a flock for the Jerusalem trip. Each sheep had to have the burrs removed from its fleece and be carefully examined for cuts and bruises.

      I’m sorry, I must stop the family history and get on with the story.

      That night started like a great many others. Nahor, my uncle, and Kemuel, my father, were taking the second watch. My grandfather, Elihu, was getting too old, really, for the long night watches, so he took the first watch and then slept until morning. Abdon and I were half awake. The sky was clear and the dark velvet of the heavens displayed every star at its best. The wood smoke smelled good mixed with the breeze, and we talked quietly. The warmth of our robes and the softness of the sheepskin pallet finally put us to sleep.

      I awoke with a start as though someone had touched me. I listened—and heard only the distant barking of a dog. It was strangely still. I sat up and looked down the slope to see my father and Uncle Nahor. The sheep seemed restless. My father was looking first one way and then another like a man trying to decide which way to run. Then I saw it too. The glow of light grew brighter with every passing moment until it seemed the sun had invaded the night with its brilliance, lighting our whole hillside like day. A man appeared before my father—at least he looked like a man, but his presence hurt my eyes. His robe gleamed like sunlight on a new snow. He spoke in a voice majestic but exceedingly kind: Do not be afraid.

      He could have as easily asked me to fly to Jerusalem. It was then I realized my father was down on his knees and my uncle was prostrate on the ground. My own heart was pounding, and without knowing it, I had pulled my wool covering up to my eyes, and was peeking over the edge while

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