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Because he often banged his fists into people's faces, they called him Bam Bam. His name is Michael Godwin. At twenty years of age he was on death row at the state penitentiary in Columbia, South Carolina, convicted of rape and murder, a crime he denied, and already was considered by some to be the most dangerous criminal in the history of that state. The first time I read his story chronicled in Harold Morris' book, Beyond the Barriers, I cried. It is a tragic tale. Bam Bam never had a father. He was raped by the paper boy at age three. At five he set the family house on fire. At nine he entered his first reformatory and then was transferred to a mental hospital. His mother was married three times and one of his stepfathers raped Bam Bam. At fifteen he was arrested for stealing a car. At seventeen he was arrested for burglary. At twenty, this six--foot, red--headed mountain of muscle was on death row.

But there had been a chance, ever so slight. There had been a slim door of opportunity for Bam Bam when an adult male showed interest in and compassion for this struggling juvenile. He sought to move Bam Bam from his horrible home environment by inviting the lad to his house for the weekend. But the door of possibility was slammed shut when the man had sex with Bam Bam. That is when I cried; for the man who abused the boy was a minister. Because of this experience Bam Bam hated everything about the church and closed the possibility to God's influence in his life.

I cried because here was an individual who had ever so slim a chance to turn the tide and make a difference in someone's life and he tragically blew it! It is that same mixture of the emotions of heartache, sadness, anger, and disgust I have when a televangelist falls from grace. It is the same sickness I have when a colleague and fellow minister makes tragic mistakes, damaging the cause of Christ, wrecks his or her family, and litters the path with a trail of victims. I know that it could happen to me. No one is immune. I would not be surprised if I do not preach weekly to some who have been hurt by a minister who has betrayed his or her calling.

But let me quickly add, that is not always the case! For every lone wolf in shepherd's clothing, there are thousands upon thousands of ministers who have answered God's calling with faithfulness and unwavering commitment. For every one who eases into a tragic mistake, there are numerous servants of Christ who intentionally love Jesus with all their heart, love his people, and unselfishly go above and beyond the call. I know ministers who have more than ten years of schooling beyond high school to equip themselves to equip God's people. I know of missionaries who leave behind family and even children to satisfy God's claim on their life. I know of many bi--vocational ministers who toil at secular jobs only to give their "free" time to churches who might not have leadership otherwise.

In our text today we read of a bi--vocational minister who sincerely sought to be a shepherd of souls. In Paul we find many marks of a model minister, one who enriched the lives of his people and sought to serve as their spiritual father. He states: "For you know that we dealt with each of you as a father deals with his own children, encouraging, comforting, and urging you to live lives worthy of God who calls you into his kingdom and glory" (vv. 11--12).

One mark of this model minister is that even though separated from the church he founded, Paul hastened to keep the lines of communication open. We remember that Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy had worked to start the church in Thessalonica around 50 C.E., but were driven out by persecution (Acts 17). Paul, waiting in Athens, received an encouraging report from Timothy about the prog--ress of the work since his departure. First Thessalonians is Paul's response to that report and his effort to keep the lines of communication open with his former congregation.

We also must remember that these are "baby" Christians. Young in the faith, they did not have a church building or the New Testament or a book on theology. All they had was their newfound faith, each other, and their spiritual father, Paul. He wrote to continue his guidance, to encourage and reconfirm their faith, and to assure them of his continued interest and prayers.

It is important for spiritual parents and biological parents to keep the communication going with their young. No matter how strained or loud it may be, it is best to talk. A scream is preferred to the death knell of silence, especially in this day of confusing role models and increasing family pressures. This was never more evident to me than after reading an April 12, 1995, Newsweek article on Bill Wyman, guitarist for the rock group, The Rolling Stones. Bill Wyman married a woman who was 34 years younger than he was. His son, Stephen, married a woman who was sixteen years older than he was. Now where it gets confusing is that Stephen's wife is Bill's wife's mother. (The father married the daughter and the son married the mother.) Stephen married his stepmother's mother. Bill married his daughter--in--law's daughter. Bill's wife married her mother's father--in--law and Stephen's wife married her daughter's stepson. What would really be interesting is if Bill and his wife have a baby boy. The boy's stepbrother will also be his grandfather and in all of this someone has to be their own grandpa. Confusing! In all the confusion of our changing family roles, it is imperative to keep the lines of communication open.

Max Lucado tells a story he heard from a Brazilian preacher in San Paulo. Maria and her daughter Christina lived comfortably in a poor neighborhood on the outskirts of a Brazilian village; modest furnishings, gray walls, dirt floor, but it was home. Maria's husband died when Christina was an infant. The young mother, stubbornly refusing opportunities to remarry, got a job and set out to raise her young daughter. Fifteen years later, the worst years were over. Though Maria's salary as a maid afforded few luxuries, it was reliable and it did provide food and clothes. And now Christina was old enough to get a job to help out.

Christina recoiled at the traditional idea of marrying young and raising a family. Not that she couldn't have had her pick of husbands. Her olive skin and brown eyes kept a steady stream of prospects at her door. She spoke often of going to the city. She dreamed of trading her dusty neighborhood for exciting avenues and city life. Just the thought of this horrified her mother. Maria was always quick to remind Christina of the harshness of the streets. "People don't know you there. Jobs are scarce and the life is cruel. And besides, if you went there, what would you do for a living?"

Maria knew exactly what Christina would do, or would have to do for a living. That's why her heart broke when she awoke one morning to find her daughter's bed empty. Maria knew immediately where he daughter had gone. She also knew immediately what she must do to find her. She quickly threw some clothes in a bag, gathered up all her money, and ran out of the house.

On her way to the bus stop she entered a drugstore to get one last thing. Pictures. She sat in the photograph booth, closed the curtain, and spent all she could on pictures of herself. With her purse full of small black--and--white photos, she boarded the next bus to Rio de Janeiro.

Maria knew Christina had no way of earning money. Knowing this, Maria began her search. Bars, hotels, nightclubs, any place with the reputation for street walkers or prostitutes. She went to them all. And at each place she left her picture - taped on a bathroom mirror, tacked to a hotel bulletin board, fastened to a corner phone booth. And on the back of each photo she wrote a note.

It wasn't too long before both the money and the pictures ran out, and Maria had to go home. The weary mother wept as the bus began its long journey back to her small village.

It was a few weeks later that young Christina descended the hotel stairs. Her young face was tired. Her brown eyes no longer danced with youth but spoke of pain and fear. Her laughter was broken. Her dream had become a nightmare. A thousand times over she had longed to trade these countless beds for her secure pallet. Yet the little village was, in too many ways, too far away.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, her eyes noticed a familiar face. She looked again, and there on the lobby mirror was a small picture of her mother. Christina's eyes burned and her throat tightened as she walked across the room and removed the small photo. Written on the back was this compelling invitation. "Whatever you have done, whatever you have become, it doesn't matter. Please come home." And she did!1

Paul not only realized the necessity of keeping the lines of communication open but also the wisdom of knowing when to be tough and when to be tender. Paul was tough on himself as he refused to take financial support but rather worked as a tentmaker so as not to be a burden on the young church (v. 9). Paul knew that he had the right to accept wages for his work and later on did accept financial gifts from the church at Philippi. But with this fledgling congregation he wanted nothing to hinder his witness. He wished that no one could accuse him of selfishness or self--promotion. Had they? Paul was there to exalt Christ, nothing less.

Paul understood concretely as does every good minister that a true servant has to give something of himself or herself. In 1973, I attended the retirement party of Raymond DeArmond who served the Berney Points Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama. He said something I will never forget. "I have never served a church that paid me what I was worth," he proclaimed. "If they had," he continued, "I would have quit." I think Raymond had a word of truth about the independence a minister must have from his or her congregation and the essential sacrifice to be made. If a minister is for hire, he or she needs to find another vocation. If a minister does only what one is paid to do, he or she needs to find another line of work. A minister must be willing to give of self, over and beyond what is required. That kind of self--sacrificial love is not for sale at any price.

Paul also could exert tough love and be demanding upon the church. In verse 12 he "exhorts and challenges" the young Christians to live lives worthy of God, lives that are distinctively different. The wording in the original language is strong. In Paul's mind, it was not an option! Toughness was a trait I observed in my father. He was not perfect. In fact, at times he could be very demanding. I never worked for a stricter boss. Equipped with the awareness that all parents bless and curse their children, he was the kind of father I try to be - prayerful that the blessings outweigh the curses.

When I was fifteen, I loved to drive our 1956 Chevrolet to the store, even though I did not have a driver's license. "Run down to the store and get a loaf of bread," my father said. "Sure, where are the car keys?" I replied. "Oh, you can walk," he answered. "No, I want to drive." "You don't have to drive." "I want to drive." "Fine," he said, "I'll go myself!" "What?" I said, not believing my ears. "I'll walk to the store myself." With that my father then proceeded to walk the two blocks to the Magic Market and back. I was standing in the yard when he left and standing in the yard when he returned. "I will not ask you to do anything, son, that I am not willing to do myself." I did not have to be asked twice again.

Paul, wise spiritual father he was, also knew when to be tender. In verse 12, Paul draws upon the image of the loving father who "comforts and encourages" his children. In verse 7, he uses the tender image of a mother who nurtures and comforts her child. In verse 12 he stresses the vital importance of constant encouragement to the development of the young Christians. Perhaps you have heard the story of the young girl who said to her dad, "Come play darts with me. I'll toss the darts toward the target. You stand there and say, 'Great!' "2 Aren't you glad that you have had those spiritual encouragers in your life that enthusiastically said, "Great!" whether you hit the target or not?

Another mark of the model minister personified by Paul was his sacrificial example. No wonder the work flourished in Thessa--lonica! The young church had Paul as their personal example to emulate. In fact, the entire letter was a reconfirmation of their faith as to how they had put his words and example into action (v. 13).

Have you ever noticed someone who would behave a certain way or say a certain word and then bemoan, "Oh, no! I am becoming my father/mother." I know that I have. But in reality that is a wonderful endorsement of the parent. There is no greater compliment than to hear one's own words come through the lips of one's child. "My words have become the word of God in you," states Paul in verse 12. I think that was his intention. The word became the word because of Paul's example.

I was not surprised when first I heard the gospel. It did not surprise me to hear that there could have been someone so wonderful as Jesus of Nazareth because I had seen someone like him in my father. It was not hard for me to believe that Jesus had risen from the dead because I saw him living in my dad.

When I was twelve years old, I pitched little league baseball. I was not very good, but my ineptitude was not due to a lack of encouragement from my father. The distance from the pitcher's mound and home plate was marked off in our driveway. Almost every day we would practice pitching. I would practice my only pitch, a fast ball and he would serve as my catcher. You ought to be aware that my father worked in the steel mill for over forty years. The constant exposure to the harsh detergents to remove the grease coupled with an inherited skin disease often caused the skin on his hand to break open. He always used a handkerchief in the glove to soften the blow of my errant throws. "Throw it as hard as you can," he would shout. "You can throw harder than that." I remember one day as we finished our practice he put his arm around me and said, "You had a good arm today. You really threw hard." He gave me his glove as he quickly put his white handkerchief in his pocket - the handkerchief that he had placed in his glove - the handkerchief with the fresh blood stains on it! An example! An imitation of Another who shed his blood that I might have an opportunity to become what I could be. I was not surprised when I heard the gospel. I was so blessed to have him as my biological and spiritual father. His example has made me a better minister.

Let me finish my story about Bam Bam. In March, 1982, Bam Bam was visited in prison by Harold Morris, an ex--con who was incarcerated for over ten years. It was a rough day. Bam Bam had beaten a guard and another inmate almost to death and was in solitary confinement. The night before he had attempted suicide. That did not deter Harold from talking to Bam Bam or from traveling the 500--mile trip from Atlanta to Columbia every week for years to do so. Slowly, agonizingly, but successfully, Harold led Michael Godwin to faith in Jesus Christ. Shortly thereafter, Michael completed a series of Bible courses and received his high school equivalency degree. He then was admitted to the University of South Carolina while still in prison. On August 16, 1986, Michael Godwin received his Bachelor of Arts Degree with a major in English and a minor in government. His grade point average was 3.85! Within a year, he received a Master's Degree from Luther Rice Seminary with a perfect 4.0 grade point average. His intention was to work on a Ph.D. Michael also received a new trial and a reduced sentence, but not the acquittal for which he hoped. All of this was paid for, arranged, and encouraged by Harold Morris through visits and over 500 long--distance phone calls. Michael has become a model prisoner influencing dozens and dozens for Christ. The orphanage in which he once stayed now buses their children just to talk to him. Bam Bam is surely a miracle.

Morris detailed a recent conversation with Michael. He asked him point blank, "Michael, you've spent sixteen of your 26 years in reformatories and prisons. You have a life sentence and could easily spend another twenty years in prison before you're eligible for parole. Today, would you trade your relationship with Jesus Christ for your freedom, so you could walk out of this prison?"

Michael didn't know the question was coming, but he never hesitated in his answer. "I would rather have the penalty of death and spend the rest of my life knowing I would die in the electric chair than give up my commitment to Jesus Christ," he said. "I love him with all my heart, and nothing in life has given me more joy than my personal relationship with the Lord."3

Did I tell you that Harold Morris, the ex--con, the spiritual father of Michael Godwin, the one who facilitated the miracle of Bam Bam - did I tell you that he is a minister?

There is still a good minister or two around.

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1. Max Lucado, No Wonder They Call Him Savior (Multnomah Press, 1986), pp. 157--159.

2. Michael Duduit, The Abingdon Preaching Annual, 1999 (Nashville: Abingdon, 1998), p. 348.

3. Harold Morris, Beyond The Barriers (Pomona: Focus on the Family, 1987), p. 118.