I preached from Romans 1:16-17 last Sunday at a church in upstate South Carolina. The church members were a faithful bunch with hoary head and strong conviction. The building is just as you would imagine; a southern brick church building with a welcoming vestibule that opens to a large sanctuary with Sunday school rooms tucked behind the wall of the choir loft. Stain glass windows line the sanctuary lighting the wooden pews aligned in three sections in front of the center looming pulpit.

I certainly appreciated the large pulpit. One that could not only hold a Bible and notes but could withstand the blasts of preaching. Many music stands have lost their intended use by being made more lofty than they are. Barely holding up sheet music is one thing —holding a leather bond sword is another. That could be an old mountain man preacher’s preference, so be it.

The thing I appreciated most about the church was the few moments after I arrived. There was no one to meet me or guide me to where I was to go. My family and I wondered into the back where the Sunday school rooms were. Every room was filled. One door was open which allowed a friend of mine to meet us as she saw us walking by. She went to get her husband who in turn got the chairman of deacons. The chairman was a younger man, much younger than the average aged person there. He had a weight about him, a look of time spent in ministry. I later found out it was youth ministry; God bless him. But this younger man brought me back to a room full of men. Men who all welcomed me with smiles and handshakes — something quite uncommon by today’s standard of greeting.

These men intended to pray with me before I preached. I appreciated the opportunity knowing this would allow me to peak into the spiritual strength of this particular church. I was not ready for what happened next. Each man took a turn praying for me. Starting on my right and circling the room until the prayer chain ended with the chairman who escorted me into the room. Over ten men said my name outloud to God.

As the first man spoke my name, tears began to swell up in my eyes. I have often said a man could do nothing greater for me than to lift my name to the Father in Heaven. To hear these men meek but bold in prayer brought many things to my mind. One thing was highlighted though; I was a small man unworthy to stand among such giant men of faith. I did not need to know who was who or who has done what in that church. I knew these men as I heard them pray. They were men who tarried with Christ in prayer. They knew their Lord and wanted his help that morning.

As they finished I thanked them and moved from the room quickly. Tears now streamed down my face, even this mountain preacher’s face, down to the beard (Psalm 133:2). I looked none of them in the eye, I just left the room.

I preached with the power from on high and left that church knowing there are others who have not bowed the knee to Baal (1 Kings 19:18). This church is not ashamed of the Gospel. (Romans 1:16). O God lift up other churches like these. SDG!