It’s amazing the respect some people command when they walk into a room. The three people who come readily to mind for me right now are or were all pastors.
Dr. Stephen Olford was a renowned pastor who commanded your attention when he spoke. He did not demand it, however. His firm but gentle voice seemed to bridge the gap between the revivalist pulpiteers of the 18th and 19th centuries and the modern orators of the late 20th and early 21st.
The day before I met him, I was told that I would feel the disparity between his diminutive physical stature and his powerful spiritual presence. I was not half prepared for the reality of that prediction.
The top of Dr. Olford’s willowy white hair might have touched the bottom of my chin if we’d stood close enough to one another, but I knew from the moment he grasped my hand in greeting that he already considered me a friend, a true brother. I was impressed and humbled by the opportunity to carry on conversations with Dr. and Mrs. Olford, and their son Dr. David Olford.
I was David’s personal attendant and guide for the day during the family’s visit to New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary. It is not a day I will easily forget. I felt God’s presence walking in the flesh next to me. Did it m
ention it was humbling?
The next man who came to mind is someone I’ll call Dr. J for the sake of this writing. He, too, was internationally renowned and very deeply involved in politics. I had the opportunity to meet him in New Orleans, as well, at a church convention in the Superdome. I stood near the platform of a radio station that was broadcasting live as they interviewed various personas from the convention. A signboard announced Dr. J was the next scheduled
interviewee, so I decided to hang around and see if I could at least say hello.
If you’ve ever been in a crowd when a famous person enters a ballroom, an airport, etc., you understand the sudden change in air temp and pressure that seems to fall when the murmuring intensifies and the excitement level o
f the crowd rises palpably. This was no different when the double doors opened against the nearby wall and the man and his entourage entered.
Dr. J walked with a smile and his head down straight ahead, as a double wall of large men in suits kept a tight circle around him. No less than 16 bodyguard-type heavies gently moved people aside as Dr. J approached
the platform, then took up positions around the podium — which was no larger than 10 by 20 feet — in such a way as to prevent anyone unauthorized from gaining access to the same raised dais.
I heard someone mumble something about getting this over with so Dr. J could get to lunch, then a couple of other attendees exclaiming how excited they were Dr. J was here. But I felt let down. Not because I didn’t get to say hello or that the man didn’t see me — he was either avoiding eye contact with anyone or just making sure he didn’t step on anything as he walked unfamiliar ground — but because I expected to have a similar feeling I had with
Dr. Olford. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I did. And I was disappointed that my impression continued to grow over the next little bit that Dr. J was there simply to be seen and heard, and that what he said seemed just political
rhetoric to me.
He was not a small man physically, but his presence didn’t seem to match even that.
The third man that comes easily to mind is also a pastor. Drs. Olford and J have since died, but this third pastor is still alive and ministering.
For over 50 years this man has preached the gospel to crowds and shared the love of Christ one-on-one with countless people. Even people who have wanted nothing to do with the God he serves still have a great respect for
the man who has taken time to model that God for them.
He’s not a large man — I’ve joked that I’m twice the man he is because of our size differences — but his presence is far larger than his physical stature. People recognize and respect him, and his bride, as well, for the individuals they are — they genuinely love others.
If you don’t know who I’m talking about yet, as soon as you read his name you’ll agree if you know him. If you don’t know him, I hope you’ll be intrigued enough to meet him. He is Wayne Campbell, pastor of Good Hope Baptist Church in Hickory, former pastor of Chunky Baptist Church (for 27 years) and a couple of others. He is also my father.
I’m proud to be the second child of Wayne and Sarah Campbell, and know that my family is the exception rather than the rule. My wife says when we were in college together she didn’t believe the magical fairy tales I told of my wonderful family who lived in the made-up town of Chunky. But when she met them, she knew I had been speaking the truth.
Would you like to experience what it might be like to take a walk with God incarnate — a benevolent, loving, creative and humorous friend and father? See if my dad will go on a walk with you. I could go on about the
kind of man he has been and is but I think you can see my point.
Dad is humble, wise, funny, intelligent and everything you’d want your pastor or father to be. So happy Father’s Day, Dad, even if it is a little late. I love you more than I can say.
Brett Campbell can be reached at brettcampbell@bellsouth.net or 601-934-0901.
