That same spirit that raised up Christ from the dead is alive IN YOU.
- You don’t tug on superman’s cape
- You don’t spit into the wind
- You don’t pull the mask of the ‘ol lone ranger
- And you don’t mess around with Jim
This story is one that I wouldn’t have believed unless I was there to see it.
I admired one of the deacons at my childhood church. He had what we used to say was one of those “good” jobs as an autoworker for many years. Steady employment enabled him to live modestly, while his wife stayed home and cared for the children. He purchased nice cars, including one year the leanest, meanest delta 88 you ever wanted to see – shiny black and gold, black on the bottom and landau gold top. Then, he topped it all off with very expensive spoke wheels that glistened in the sun. I was impressed by this car and so was everyone else. Because Deac got to church early, he was able to park it right up front.
Sunday morning sunshine shining on the shiny, stainless-steel spoke wheels could blind you with bling. And since he got there every Sunday early, he could park it right it front of the church.
One Sunday, as he did every Sunday, Deac got out of his car, went inside to teach Sunday school. While he was in the building, a man was outside of the church building, pulled up right beside Deac’s car.
Moma, “look,” I said as I saw this dusty-haired man drive up in a beat-up hoopty right by Deacon prized posession with crowbar in his hand.
“He doesn’t need these,” he grunted as he began removing the hub caps one-by-one. Momma whispered to me, “Run, get Deacon.”
To Catch a Thief
I ran down the church aisle to pull Deac away who was just preparing to teach Sunday school, when I told him, “Deacon M, somebody is messing with your car. A man I don’t know.” He ran past me so fast…I turned my head he was gone, his Florsheim shoes clicking against the concrete was faster that the faster clydesdale horse. He ran into the street after a car, yes, a car, with a dusty-haired criminal driving off with his hubcaps. The Deacon morphed in front of my eyes from middle-aged man to SuperBad. With the speed of Carl Lewis, Deacon M bolts out of the church, down the stairs, down the street, in his best suit and his best shoes Deac takes off on foot, and catches the thief.
He opens the car door, and a tussle ensues. He hits Mr. Dusty, gets his hubcaps and returns triumphantly to no Olympic medal, but to a cheering and awed crowd, Momma and me.
Deac brushes off his suit, straightens his tie, returns to teaching as if nothing happened.
Superbad versus SuperPower
Although this may seem impressive it isn’t nearly as impressive as the superpower Deac really was in life.
He was a calm, loving servant to the church, taught Adult Sunday school, took care of an ailing wife and never, I mean never treated anyone unkindly. Keep in mind that he taught Sunday school, which means that he spent hours preparing to arbitrate the great debate that occurred every Sunday about topics such as divorce, money and when Jesus was returning. Sunday morning had all the drama of a soap opera and yet, this deacon remained calm and collected diligently serving for years.
Deacon was one of the sweetest most loving persons you could ever meet.
Deac was powerful because he relied on the power within him to live a life pleasing to God.
This is a salute to all of the Superbads out there – thank you for being you and letting the real Superpower live in you.