My wife’s father preached for over four decades. He’s retired now, and I shouldn’t be putting any pressure on him to step up in front of our church and bring a word from the Lord. But I love to hear him share, still.

It was a great privilege to have him here in South Dakota on Father’s Day in 2005. This is the rough transcript of his message at Komstad that morning. We read from James 1:19-27, where James implores his church (and us) to hear the Word of God and then do it.
 

A Doer of the Word
(James 1:19-27)

From the sermon on Fathers Day, June 19, 2005, by Rev. Wilmer Quiring

I think I'll start with a three-point sermon. I always told young preachers that every sermon ought to have three points and a poem, and I think I have that this morning. But number one, I want to tell you how happy I've been to be here in your church and have fellowship with you. You've been very kind and I've enjoyed myself very much.

I appreciate it, and I appreciate the way you have treated Bob and Diane. They are seeking in many ways to be a blessing to you. They have now moved closer to church, and I've had the privilege of being in that house, seeing the cows run around the yard and a few other things.

But I'm happy the way things are moving for my family. And then I probably should say that this morning, early, the telephone rang and my granddaughter in Rochester, New York, gave birth to a baby boy. And I was happy that finally she was relieved of her burden. That was number four great-grandchild.

That's one.

Point number two: today is Father's Day, and I want to wish the best for every father that is here. May God bless you as you seek to be that father that God would have you to be.

When I first began my ministry, I used to preach sermons on Mother's Day for mothers and a Father's Day sermon for fathers. But one day after I preached a Mother's Day sermon in the church in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, I talked to one of the mothers, and she looked so sad.

I said, “What's the matter?”

“Well, you made me feel so guilty,” she said.

“I didn't intend to do that. I was just trying to tell you how the Bible speaks of mothers, and I was giving you some thoughts about it.”

“Yes,” she said, “but I can't live up to it.”

I thought about that later, and I quit having Mother's Day sermons and Father's Day sermons that were so direct. I wanted to be helpful and not make anyone feel guilty about what they were doing. She was a good mother, so I don't know why she felt particularly guilty.

When I thought of Father's Day, I thought of my own father and all that he meant to me. Sometimes we say this about our fathers, that he's never said “I love you” to me. I've heard some people complain about that. I never heard my father say that, either. But was there any doubt in my mind that my father loved me? Not a one.

He was brought up in the Mennonite church. They were always so austere. They wouldn't make many jokes, and so life had to be lived like that. But he was a happy man and lived a happy life in our family and did all he could to make sure that his children had everything they needed.

I didn't have a birthday party until I was 21. But every week my mother would bake a whole pan cake that we would eat up. I should say she made that because I had a father who liked sweets, and even for breakfast he wanted a dessert.

But in the scripture that Bob has told us about, it asks us not to be hearers of the word but doers. And I want to speak just a little bit now on my third point about being a doer of the word. That was my father. That's why he didn't have to say words. I knew by his actions how he felt about me and the whole family, because for him helping his family was his life.

When he and my mother got married, they went up to Wolf Point, Montana, where they were homesteading, hoping to be able to have 160 acres or whatever it was. But after three years of no crops and even the seed was gone, he decided to move back to his home, which was Mountain Lake, Minnesota, and try to begin over again.

One day he went to his own father and said, “We're moving to Minneapolis.”

That shocked my grandfather. He said, “Are you taking your two boys—”

My older brother and I were the only children then.

“—Are you going to take those two boys to that wicked city of Minneapolis, where the devil is loose? Why, there's no one to help them! What are you going to do?”

My Dad said, “I just feel that's the place for me to go. I need to find a job and help my family.”

The first thing my parents did when they moved to Minneapolis, they found a church a block and a half away from our house, the First German Baptist Church of Minneapolis. And there we went all of our lives there in Minneapolis. And it was that church, together with my parents’ faith, that kept all of us steadfast and sure even in that wicked city of Minneapolis.

And the Lord was with us. My Dad, if he were alive today, would be surprised to see how his larger family had prospered, how everyone was in the church, how there were a few that were missionaries, a number that are pastors, and all the rest steadfast members in the church. So it wasn't so much that he was afraid of what was going to happen in the city. He knew that with the help of God this could all be very possible. He was a doer of the Word.

There were three oldest boys in the family. A girl and a boy came much later. My sister is nine years younger than I. But my Dad would come home from work and then he'd have to make some repairs where we had done something wrong.

And he said to us one day, “Why is it that of all the children in the neighborhood with which you play, if there's a window that is broken, one of you has done it?” And he became very expert in putting in new windows. But he did it. He was a doer not only of the Word but of windows, as well.

As I went into the ministry and was in my first church near Abilene, Kansas, a small country church, we had a car. But you know during the war, which was still going on, they quit making cars. So you had to do the best you could with any used car you could buy.

My preacher friend in Minneapolis had sold me his car, a 1936 Nash, painted purple. We bought it before I left in my second year at the seminary, and now it had brought us to Kansas. And we used it in the church work. But things were getting bad. The flywheel has some teeth broken. And when I wanted to start the car and it happened to be at that point, I'd have to get out, put the car in gear, and push it until the flywheel was able to be started. Then the front wheels shimmied at 45 miles an hour, and you had to be careful. I had put bearings in that car myself about three times, and it was knocking like everything.

But what was I going to do? We had the big salary of one hundred dollars a month, and we used most of that to eat and live and pay all our bills. My brother and his family came to visit us, and they were going back to Minneapolis. We said, “Our vacation is coming up. We'll drive with you. You take us there, and then we'll have to look for a new car.”

We usually stayed at my parents’ home, and while we were there my Dad was telling me about his life. And then he said, and I don't know why he said it, “For the first time in my life I've been able to save a thousand dollars.”

He was a very generous man. He usually gave everything away, and here he was telling me that he had finally saved a thousand dollars. The next day we went on Lake Avenue in Minneapolis where they have all the used cars, looking for one that I could afford. And right in the middle of the lot I saw the car. It was a Plymouth, black, 1942.

“Oh,” I thought, “I wonder if I could get that one?” I looked it over, and it was just the car I wanted. But how much did it cost? The salesman told me one thousand dollars. That was beyond my price.

So I was ready to go home, when my Dad said, “Well, I told you what I had in the bank.”

And we bought the car.

Be ye doers of the Word, not hearers only.

And how I rejoice in the fact that I had a father who was not so quick to speak but was very quick to do and to make known the things of Christ in his own life.

And so I pray that in this congregation, this wonderful church, you too might find your way and hear these words of James that we should be doers of the Word, not just listening and hearing, but following our Savior. For we know as followers of Christ we can say with Paul, for me to live is Christ and to die is gain.

I said I had a poem and I'm trying to bring it back into my mind here as I've been talking. It's not just a poem, it's a song. And maybe you sang it many years ago.

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in his wonderful face.
And the things of earth will slowly dim
In the light of his glory and grace.

May that be yours as well as we seek to follow him. Thank you.