Kopp Disclosure
(John 3:19-21)
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May 8, 1977
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40 Years Plus 2 with 25% and Counting
at Home in Belvidere, Illinois
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Because I didn’t like hearing about
people in the Forty Fort United Presbyterian Church (Pennsylvania) having my
first mentor and pastor The Rev. Harold F. Mante for lunch and rationalizing
their infidelities at the expense of him sacrificing health and family for
them, I wanted to shed “The Rev” for “Doctah” and be a professor of homiletics.
Dr. Felmeth made me take a church in
Delaware, New Jersey (Delaware Presbyterian Church) as a seminary middler and
unordained student pastor – called a “temporary supply” back then in keeping
with the increasing organizational secularization of the franchise – to prove
he was right and I was wrong about my beruf.
2 years.
While I’ve served off and on as an
adjunct homiletics professor for two seminaries but not mine which doesn’t
bother me because of the Barnes-Keller betrayal of its academic and spiritual
roots, I’ve had “credentials” – another bend forward to the increasing
organizational secularization of the franchise – since May 8, 1977.
I’ll never forget that afternoon that
started the last four decades.
Jackie Kanter and Richie Kaufer, among
my five closest friends before college and the rest, came to my ordination and
confessed secret affinities to what it meant; while Richie Grossman called and
said, “Bobby, I can’t come to, uh, whatever it is is happening to you
today. Tell me, Bobbbbbbby, do you
really believe all of that Jesus stuff?”
“Well, Richie,” I replied, “I am getting ordained; so I guess I’m kinda
into it.”
While I have no doubts about God’s
providence in my life in every respect and relationship, echoing the
certainties of the apostle in Romans 8:28, not taking the time to talk about
Jesus to Richie that or any day remains one of my greatest regrets which
is a euphemism for sins.
Getting back to that afternoon, my mom
kept embarrassing me by telling everybody that I was going to be the next P of
my alma mater; and looking at the last few Ps, I now understand that as a
prophetic insult.
Paul Watermulder preached from Genesis
12 and supporting texts.
Essentially,
he said, “Go where God tells you to go and everything will work out.”
He was right in a Genesis 12:3, 15:1,
and Psalm 91 collective prophetic promise; and, along with Matthew 10:16,
remain SOP pour moi.
“Rev. Mante” – that’s what we called
him despite being told that’s not how we’re supposed to address ‘em and that’s
one of the reasons why I got another advanced degree because I thought
“reverend” assumed too much when it came to me and, besides, I knew people
would end up calling me lots of things like everyone before and after me as a
vocational hazard – charged me; and though I forget his text, his counsel has
guided me in better moments: “Be slow!
Be steady! Be solid!”
Then I spent the next two decades like
the ones before that proving God chooses least likely candidates for
ministry – check out the Bible for more on that – and reached every one of my
egotistically inflated “professional” goals and climbed to the top of the
ecclesiastical ladder of success before reaching 32 only to discover I was
leaning against the wrong building.
I’ve written about those wilderness
days in a few books that nobody’s read; and if anybody did, I’d probably be
selling insurance in Idaho.
Brad Long, one of the fellows who
helped me out of the wilderness without even knowing it, has often said
everyone experiences the wilderness but not everyone survives/overcomes it.
Because of my family and friends but
most especially being a Psalm 91 kinda guy, I survived and I’m still, uh, uh,
uh,…whatever.
Against the advice of several folks in
Blackhawk Presbytery and especially one officer who predicted I wouldn’t last
two years in Belvidere because it was a war zone upon arrival with inheritances
that would shake Samson without Delilah and gave new meaning to Sheol and
because I had a record of telling churches where to go after they proved
disinterested in going where He wanted them to go and leaving other churches
with dear, dear, dear saints because my egotistical professional ambitions
blurred my vision to the opportunities to grow together in Jesus and glow
together for Jesus with sacrifices of true love that I truly regret, I’m
well into my second decade of ministry on the corner of Lincoln and Main and
won’t leave and will never retire unless I’m assassinated by an
Islamofascistnutball or somebody who’s still mad at me for taking the church
away from them and giving it back to Jesus, my Grandpa Kopp’s cancer genes take
over, or the minority in our church like every church who hates the undershepherd
becomes the majority.
Though I’ll break a new year’s
resolution by saying this, I am “home” in life and ministry in Belvidere and
Boone County, Illinois despite missing my mom, dad, sister, and the best pizza
on the planet.
That’s a quick summary of an imperfect
man, undershepherd, husband, father, son, and brother.
I’ve never hidden that; well, O.K., I
don’t like to talk about some parts.
“What’s that I see in your eye?”
But if someone really wants some dirt,
I’ll spoon-feed ‘em so they don’t have to dig it up.
Jesus was right.
Some people like darkness more than
light.
I think I’ve always been pretty good
at counseling because I don’t pretend to be any better or any worse than anyone
else who needs Jesus to save them no more nor no less than me.
Anyway, at this point, there’s always
someone feeling a little uncomfortable by me using myself as an illustration of
what I think are important lessons; though I think I’ve been better at the
truth that’s more self-deprecating than some people who do what I do who
pretend to be better than God…and others…know.
Yeah, there’s always a charge of
narcissism or some other lame name-calling to pigeonhole and blow off; because
whenever anyone’s too confessional, it strikes too close to home and even
pewbelts aren’t secure enough to squelch squirming.
Yet, I’ve always believed in
testimonies; for the most persuasive pointing to Jesus as Lord and Savior is
when we communicate who Jesus is for us with the exciting news of who He
can be for them.
To paraphrase the apostle, “If Jesus
can save a wretch like Bob Kopp who’s really messed up a lot in his life, you’ve
got a chance! Why do you think God
called Bob Kopp into ministry? To be
like other pastors who hide their humanity in need of His saving divinity? To pretend he’s better than anybody else
because he used to wear those stupid vestments that Jesus ridiculed in Matthew
23? No, if God can save him, anybody,
including you, can make it!”
Parenthetically, that’s why “Rev.
Mante” always greeted everyone, “Keep the faith! Blessings on you!” When I asked what he meant, he said, “Stick
close to Jesus who is the only one who can save someone like you who doesn’t
deserve to be saved!”
Besides, before I was a part-time homiletics
professor, I had a homiletics professor who always quoted Brooks, “The best
preaching is truth through personality.”
Then he’d say, “Nobody cares what Cyril of Jerusalem said. They care about what you’ve got to say and
what Jesus has done for you and can do for them.” Or as I heard a Newark radio
preacher screaming on the radio late one night while heading back to the
seminary from the church, “The only gospel that some folks will ever hear or
see is the gospel according to you and me!”
I guess I could go on and on and on;
but yielding to our cyberspaced-out and sound-byte attention span, I’ll wrap
this up.
I have lots of regrets; but no doubts
about God’s providence in my life.
Frankly, I’m surprised to be alive
this long; and you can take that anyway that you’d like.
I really, really, really relate to
Bullinger, whose confession should be included in every book of ‘em, when he
said, in effect, “God has used me in spite of me.”
Paraphrasing Gump’s observation of
Lieutenant Dan, I don’t know when/how it happened – so many people and churches
and friends and family and foes but especially God have factored in – but I’ve
finally found peace and home for the last half of the first four decades.
Maybe that’s why I’m so energized and
determined for/about the future.
Let me put it another way.
Somewhere along the way I got what He
gave: “Don’t store up treasures here on earth…Store up treasures in
heaven…Wherever your treasure is, there your heart and thoughts will also be.”
Read the rest of that text and
context; starting with Matthew 6:19-34 and then absorbing all of the red
letters.
That’s the path, as Oswald Chambers
liked to say, to strong calm sanity or living
victoriously/triumphantly/confidently amid the meanness, madness, misery, and
miscreance of life in the modern world.
I’ve got a long way to go and maybe
that’s why retirement has never been on my radar; especially since that week
with Eugene back in October 2011 when I was born anothen again.
When I look at my calendar (How do I
spend my time?), checkbook (How do I spend my money?), church (How involved am
I?), confession (What I say!), conduct (what I do!), countenance (How I
appear!), and chums (Good and bad and tempting!), I know I’ve got a
loooooooonnnnnnnng way to go.
But you know if you know Him, that’s
the point.
Everybody needs Jesus to save them.
No exceptions to the need; and, praise
Him, no exceptions to His grace through faith in Jesus.
Everybody will have an epitaph.
I hope this will be mine: “He loved
Jesus and loved people enough to point them to Jesus as Lord and Savior.”
Everybody has a signature.
Mine comes at the end of every worship
service: “Continue in God’s peace through Jesus! Love God and be kind to one another! Remember, the answer to every question is
Jesus! The grace of the Lord Jesus
Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you
all!”
Amen.
Amen.
Amen.
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Blessings and Love!
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Salt! Shine! Leavenate!
Look up! Stand up! Speak up! Act up for Jesus!
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