The Letter to the Romans: Message #6 – Chapter 12

I’m going to say something here that’s very painful for me. You wouldn’t have thought it if I hadn’t told you—extremely painful for me—and I hope it’s not misunderstood. I’m going to tell you what it feels like to be in leadership, and in so doing, I’m going to admit that I am in a leadership role. Now, one of the most interesting things about Gene Edwards and leadership is that I have never for a moment felt like I was a leader. Never felt gifted. I didn’t run for office in college. I wasn’t the president of my class. You remember the guy who ran for office in college or high school, and those who were the real leaders? And you were kind of gentle with something, weren’t you? I was, because they were gifted.

I was interviewed the other day on a national television program. Did you get that? A national television program, and between commercials, the man interviewing me said, “Gene, I understand you have dyslexia.” I said, “Yes.” And he said, “So do I.” He said, “As I grew up, I always thought I was stupid because I couldn’t spell, I couldn’t read, and I couldn’t write, and I couldn’t add, and I couldn’t track, and nobody could read my handwriting.” Now, that’s the story of my life. And he said, “And sometimes I would do something that was successful.” He said, “I always looked at it as an accident.” And I looked at him with my eyes, got the biggest saucers. I never saw anyone sum up my childhood or my whole life better than that. When you grow up colorblind, a youngest child with a domineering brother, and you can’t read, and you can’t write, and you cannot spell, and you cannot add, and you cannot subtract, you cannot draw; you sit on the back row to hide; you’re taunted constantly by that big brother of yours who is constantly telling you—you have a mother who has a very high IQ and is very brilliant, and herself is a schoolteacher—and every night she cries while she tries to help you with homework which you cannot get. What impression would you have of yourself? I never thought of myself as a leader, but I am, and God gave me that gift.

It’s taken me 50 of the 56 years I’ve been alive to admit that, because I’ve never liked leaders. My brother was a leader. He is the enemy. Therefore, all leaders are my enemies. Now, that’s not the sad part of the story. The sad part of the story is that, in working with men throughout my life, I now think one of the saddest things that has come to me in the ministry is realizing that men want me to make them a leader, and that has backfired on me again and again, not when you don’t feel like you’re a leader, and other people are looking at you as a leader, and you finally figure out that they want you to make them a leader like you, so they can be a star, which has never meant anything to me—I’ve always felt like this is all an accident. This is a mistaken identity somewhere. I really and truly mean that. Then one day, this brother is just really full of wrath at you because you never made him a leader. Well, I have something to say to you: you either are or you are not, and nobody can make you one.

Well, some of the brothers probably will think, “Well, I guess by George I am. I’d better get to leading now.” Well, you know how you can tell if you’re a leader? That’s whether or not people follow you. I began to notice that people were always following me, and I wondered what… It’s kind of like the story of the guy who went to the funeral, tried to leave early, got in his car, and left. And he’d gone about five miles going back home. He looked in the back, and there was the entire funeral procession following him. No hearse around, nothing. And they’re all…he tries to make a U-turn on the bridge to get rid of them, to lose them—and they all do a U-turn on the bridge. I understand that’s a true story. That’s the way I always felt. I looked back and said, “Where are those people going?” I’ve seen brothers get pouty and sulky because people wouldn’t follow them. Then I read something the other day that disturbed me as much as anything has ever disturbed me. Sociologists are beginning to find out that leadership is probably genetic. Now, boy, that really just knocks the props out from under me. I talked to a very dear and godly brother about this, and he said, “Gene, don’t put too much stock in that, because remember, there is a divine genetics too.” And that was very consoling to me—but not enough. I am telling you that it may be that leadership is genetic and decided in the womb.

I’ve never talked to anybody in my life like I’m talking to you tonight. I am telling you, don’t get stuck on wanting to be a leader. It may be that that’s just not who you are. I’m very fearful of saying that, because you may be and decide tonight you’re not, and decide to put your head under a bucket. I should have started writing when I was 12 years old—of course, I couldn’t spell—but I could spell enough so that I could understand what I wrote. But I was nearly 50 years old before I picked up a pen because I knew I couldn’t write. Wouldn’t you believe you couldn’t write if you couldn’t spell and you took 20 years to learn how to read? Well, you may be, brethren. It may sprout up, but I’m just trying to encourage you—don’t be jealous of those who read. Will you be content with what you are? Not less than what you are, but oh brother, not more than what you are, sister. Now, I’m going to stop here for a moment. Talk to me. Is this doing anything at all, or do you all feel like, well, this is going to be irrelevant to me, Gene? You feel like it’s irrelevant? It means a lot.

Okay, it’s not something I want to talk about. I’d rather be talking about the Word, but there it is right there. That’s what Paul is talking about, and neither my gift nor your gift nor anybody else’s gift is worth a toot except within the church of God. I want you all to know that I cannot make any of you a leader. That is not a gift God gave me. I might even lay hands on you, but I can’t give you anything. You’re going to be what you’re going to be, and most of us are going to be husbands and wives, and work, and live, and die, and have the privilege of being in the house of God and having some place in it. Don’t damage the church by thinking of yourself more highly than you ought, and I really beg you, too, don’t think even lower of yourself than you should. There’s always a possibility you might sprout and bloom, but I would say to you that most of us live our whole lives as chiefs and not Indians.

One of the greatest paradoxes in my life is that my brother never became a leader. Isn’t that incredible? He’s been a solo act his whole life. He was the one who was the son of one of the most incredible leaders who ever lived—my daddy. And I was, you know, that’s Goober head, that’s what they call me, that’s Goober head over there in the corner. He can read Batman and Robin and Superman, and that was about the end of my abilities right there. If you cut that off for a minute, I’ll tell a very personal story.

…that one’s a leader and one’s not; one’s a leader and one’s not, but the leader is jealous of the one that’s not a leader, and the one that’s not a leader is jealous of the leader. This all begins to get ridiculous. Do you understand? I’m jealous of those of you who beat music out on those drums over there. I am jealous of Alex’s ability to create so much artistic expression in the church. I’ve never had that ability. Now, you may say, that’s not him, that’s so-and-so. Fine, I’m jealous of you, whoever you are. But don’t you understand what a body is? A body is useless components. A body is useless components. Say, praise the Lord. Useless components. Alex’s gift—not worth a toot. He’d probably be selling pencils on the streets of downtown. A worthless, useless component. We are all more important here than alone. We are all useless components, but when we become a functioning body, she suddenly becomes special. Suddenly, she is special. Not you, not me, but she is very special, and she can be very beautiful. I would encourage you to take pride in what you are in the church.

“But Gene, I don’t think I do anything.” Oh, I can’t do anything? How many times have the nothings of this world made it possible for the so-called somebodies to get their work done? I can tell you, I have been dying as one who ministers the gospel. I have been dying from a lack of those who will not function in the role of being helpful, and when I suffer, I feel the kingdom of God suffers. That’s not a boast. I just feel that way. That’s where my task fell. I never asked for this job. I didn’t want it. I never dreamed about it, and I had no ambitions for it, but I got it. And every once in a while, a helper comes along, and it just…Together, we become tenfold more than what either one of us alone can be. And your contribution—you over here—is making a contribution to someone over here who hasn’t even noticed you yet, because there is something you’re doing that is making an enormous contribution to the body of Christ. Don’t think of yourself more highly than you ought to, but on the other hand, within the body of Christ, realize that we all are more than we would ever be anywhere else. The world may not agree to that, but we’re looking through the eyes of God.

Okay, we got one other little point here to make in this. Thank God for gifts that differ; otherwise, you will end up a Baptist. A Baptist has two gifts—I’m going to keep saying this until the day I die—one gigantic tongue and one humongous ear, and that’s all that ever happens in a Baptist church: those who speak and those who listen, and those who listen and those who speak, and those who speak and those who listen. And it will go on forever and forever and forever, world without end.

Now, would you, those of you who…I’m telling you what Paul’s saying, those of you who teach, will you just, when you get through teaching, will you not think that the whole church owes you a living and should do everything you say? And those of you who do prophesy, would you not think that being a prophet automatically makes you chief cook and bottle washer? And those of you who serve, that doesn’t make you the next thing over to the Apostle Peter. And those of you who exhort, will you, just when you get through exhorting, sit down—and that will thank you for exhorting us—and that’s important. It does not put you above the rest of us.

Now then, he changes a little bit. Now go ahead and do this: if you are one of those who give, and there may be that someday the Lord will put somebody in the church who literally, their gift is to give; well, do it till it hurts and then shut up. You’re not buying the kingdom, nor are you buying control of the church of Jesus Christ. Say amen to that, bird dog, would you? He who leads, do it with excruciating diligence, which probably means being very, very, very careful in a leadership role, not to steamroll someone else. I don’t know what it means, but just don’t be a sloppy leader. You do not lead in order to be served. You lead in order to serve. If you’re one of those people who are just compassionate with other people, well, stay that way, and don’t ever start pretending you’re compassionate when you don’t feel compassion. If you can’t do it compassionately, if you can’t show your compassion compassionately, quit being compassionate. That probably doesn’t make any sense, but nonetheless, all of us get a little bit weary, and some of us keep on functioning when it’s nothing but hypocrisy. Don’t do that, dear saint of God. Just don’t do that.