Everyday People Are Vital to the Kingdom!

I was raised on a farm in Illinois, and one of the highlights of my life before I turned sixteen and got my driver’s license was going to my grandfather’s farm and driving the tractors, the combine, and other vehicles he owned. That was really something to me. My biggest thrill was driving his truck because it had four on the floor, and I loved to shift those gears and pump that clutch!

I couldn’t go to the farm any time I wanted to and take the truck out for a drive. I could only drive the truck when my grandfather was using it out in the field. One day I was at school, and I knew my grandfather had the truck out that day. So I decided that after school I’d go over to his farm and drive it. I’d get to shift those gears and pump that clutch. Oh, how I wanted to drive that truck! That’s all I thought about while I was in class, and I learned absolutely nothing that day at school.

Finally, the last bell rang. I bolted out the door and got on the school bus. The ride home took about an hour, so I sat up close to the front and watched the bus driver shift those gears and pump that clutch. I knew that in about an hour I’d be doing the same thing.

At long last I got home, got off the school bus, and hopped on my bicycle. My grandfather’s farm was about a mile and a half away, and while I was riding my bicycle over there, all I could think about was driving that truck and how I was going to shift those gears and pump that clutch.

When I reached my grandfather’s farm, I went directly into the barn, but my heart sank when I saw the truck. It was sitting by the tool shop with its hood up, and I thought, Something’s wrong. I walked into the shop, and Grandpa was there. He had the carburetor out of the truck, and it was all torn apart on the workbench.

I looked at him and said, “Grandpa, what are you doing?”

He said, “Well, Buddy, the truck wasn’t running too well so I stopped, took the carburetor off, and took it apart to clean it. I’m going to put it back together here in just a little bit, and we’ll get it going again.”

“Hurry up, Grandpa!” I said. I’d been waiting all day to drive that truck.

Grandpa cleaned the different parts of the carburetor, and then he began to put it back together. I noticed that he was taking more time with the smaller parts than he was with the bigger parts. On many of the little parts, he would go over to the shelf, get a book, and read about them for a few minutes before he would work on them.

That was just too much for me to bear. I soon blurted out, “Grandpa! Don’t mess with the little parts. Just put the big parts together. I want to drive the truck right now.”

“Oh no, Buddy,” he said. “We’ve got to have all the parts, big and small, for this carburetor, or this truck won’t run right.

"It’ll run, he added, "but we won’t get the full potential, the full power out of this engine.”

“I don’t care about all that,” I said. “Just put the thing together, Grandpa, and let me drive. That’s all I want to do right now.”

He stood there for a moment with a thoughtful look on his face. Then he said, “Buddy, I want to prove something to you. You think some of these little parts are not that important, so I’m going to put the carburetor together and leave out some of them. I’m going to prove to you how important they really are.”

My grandfather proceeded to put the smaller parts on the workbench. He then put the big parts of the carburetor together and put it back in the truck. Then he got in and fired it up. The engine took off for a few seconds, but then it flooded out. Grandpa turned to me and said, “Now, Buddy, the reason this is happening is because you think that these so-called little parts are not that important, so I’ve left them out. But that’s why the truck is not running properly. I’ll prove it to you again.” He fired up the engine a second time and it initially took off, but in a moment it flooded out again.

This story is a clear-cut illustration of the way many modern churches are run. So often the church members expect more out of their pastors than just preaching. In small churches, they often expect them to do everything. The pastors jump into their work, and at first they’re fired up, and everything seems to be running smoothly. But after a while, they burn out because they can’t do everything themselves. They let some things slide for a while, and then they jump back in, all fired up to do everything. But before long, things fizzle out again because they need help.

Why does this happen in so many churches? I believe it’s because those churches develop the attitude that all they need is just the big parts; They don’t need the so-called little parts. They don’t need to get into the manual to learn about every member, every part, and how to finely tune and adjust them so that the church can get the full potential and the full power out of the body of Christ.

When my grandfather put the carburetor together with every part and fired up the engine again, he got the full potential and the full power out of it; and the truck ran perfectly.

Can you see from this story how much the church needs every believer working and functioning properly in the body of Christ?

Otherwise, the body just won’t run right. The church will run, but we’ll only be running on half the power. We won’t get the full potential out of the church if we don’t have all the special members working and functioning properly together.