I have heard two preachers lately make references to their heroes. One hero was a Bible character, and one a contemporary person whose life and labors were deemed so extraordinary that his admirer labeled him a hero. The dictionary defines a hero as “a person who is admired or idealized for courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities.” There are a number of biblical persons who might qualify as heroes by that definition. And there is surely nothing wrong with having men and women, forefathers or living, whom we respect and admire so deeply that they are, in our thinking, heroes. Nothing wrong, that is, unless we deify these people, forgetting that they are men and women who also have “feet of clay.” We ought, therefore, to remind ourselves of the biblical injunctions that we “have no confidence in the flesh” (Phil. 3:3) and that “an arm of flesh” is no guarantee of victory. (II Chr. 32:8)
But since hearing the aforementioned pastors refer to their heroes, my mind was challenged to think of some of my heroes. Many come to mind, but here are two. Each impacted my life for good in the time that I knew him.
First, Dr. Monroe Parker—preacher par excellence, educator, and missionary statesman in the 20th century. Dr. Parker was a staff minister and administrator at Bob Jones University, graduating in the first class of that school, which was founded so that young people could get a sound education without having their faith shattered by liberals who were bent on espousing Darwinism, so-called “higher criticism,” and other ideologies that have no basis in truth.
Dr. Parker was, for several years, president of Pillsbury Baptist Bible College and also a founding officer of Baptist World Mission, of which he was General Director when I joined that mission board in 1982. I had the privilege of getting to observe this southern gentleman up close and in person over many years; he and his wife were guests in our home—sometimes overnight guests—as they crisscrossed America in meetings.
Those of you who knew “the Monk” will affirm that Monroe Parker had a sense of humor that was, well, a sense of humor. His stories were endless, and his “punch lines” were never disappointing. He could make you laugh, and he could make you cry; his love and burden for lost souls was never absent in personal conversation or in his public ministry. Nothing about him was “affected”—he was transparent, discreet, and always in word and deed clothed in humility. When he was president of Pillsbury Baptist Bible College, the students there were singularly impacted by his chapel messages and his personal interest in them and in their ministry; scores of these young men under his tutelage went on to pastor some of our nation’s great Bible-preaching churches.
When I pastored my first church in Kansas and knew Dr. Parker only from a distance, I got tapes of his messages—the old reel-to-reel tapes—and played them to my folk in the evening training hour before the main service. Of course, the favorite was his “elevator trip to Hell” sermon. Later, I was blessed to have Dr. Parker speak at Thompson Road Baptist Church when I became pastor here in Indianapolis, and he was the first guest evangelist that I invited after I assumed the pastorate in 1979. Ellen and I, and our church family, will always cherish memories of Dr. and Mrs. Parker. They were, as it has been said, “the real deal!” He is one of my heroes.
The second hero that I would like to remember here is my father-in-law, Marvin Beshears. By the way, I have written previous posts on each of these men individually—“The Monk” and “God’s Man From Heaven Sent.”
I knew both men pretty well; and, although they were alive at the same time, they were worlds apart in most respects. But they shared an unwavering respect for God’s Word, an unabated love for souls, and a steadfast commitment to “preach the Word…instant, in season, out of season…reproving, rebuking, with all long-suffering and doctrine.” Ellen’s father was known all over Wilkes County, North Carolina, simply as “Brother Marvin.” He did not meet Christ as Savior until, during World War II, he failed a physical and was not accepted into active military service. So he went to Virginia to paint U.S. Navy ships that were sent across the oceans in military service. It was in these shipyards that Marvin heard the voice of Pastor Charles E. Fuller, preaching to packed congregations in Long Beach, California—filled with soldiers about ready to ship out to the war effort—pleading with these young men to accept Christ as their Savior. Marvin was not being shipped overseas, but God got ahold of his heart through the “Old Fashioned Revival Hour” preaching, and when he finally returned to his family in North Wilkesboro, NC, he was a new creation in Christ. He attended several of the many local Baptist churches looking for a place to grow in Christ, but in most all of them he noted men on the front porch smoking cigarettes. Sometimes these were deacons and even pastors. He just could not get past this, for when he got saved, he knew that such habits had to go.
Marvin got most of his education on his knees, with the book he revered, the Bible, opened before him. He was not able, in the difficult Depression years, to finish high school. He was working to help provide food and essentials for the family of nine children. He could not read with ease, mispronounced quite a few of King Jame’s English words, and spoke with a vocabulary unique to him. But anyone who ever heard him preach, or pray, could never forget the apparent “unction” of the Holy Spirit that was upon him! I was a ministerial student in Bible college when I became acquainted with Ellen’s father; but, in truth, I wasn’t even worthy to sit in the same classroom with this man of God.
He preached on the radio every Sunday morning, preached in prisons, preached in nursing homes all over Wilkes County. Mention his name and everyone knew “Brother Marvin.” He never had to sign a bank note—a handshake would seal any contract with this preacher, who lived what he preached until the day he died. I graduated from college and seminary with degrees, but my hero, Marvin Beshears, had the hand of God upon him in a way that I have never known. He was a mountain preacher—by the world’s standards, uneducated—but in truth he stood head and shoulders above most who were called “Reverend.” He was, by the way, also an astute businessman. He pastored the same church for 50 years and never received a salary or any benefits—but provided, with the help of a devoted wife, a living for his family, the benefits of which his children are still reaping. Yes, my hero, Dad Beshears.
I am out of space for now; maybe I will write about two more heroes next time. Stay tuned.
“And when the Chief Shepherd shall appear, ye shall receive a crown of glory that fadeth not away.” (I Pet.5:4)
YOU and GOD 