I grew up in Amarillo, Texas. When I was twenty-three years old I started dating a girl who went to church every Sunday morning, Sunday evening, and Wednesday night. She finally talked me into attending church with her on Wednesday nights. When I was younger I had attended a Baptist church with my family for a few years but after my mother and father divorced I had not been in a church. The people were friendly, the preaching was fairly entertaining, and the music was what I expected.

After I had begun attending on a regular basis, the girl I was dating asked me if I might be interested in a Bible study with a married couple at the church. Dinner would be included. I thought it over and agreed. I wondered who the couple might be. I assumed it would be a young, successful professional couple in a nice home with small children.   On the evening of the Bible study I was surprised. We drove to a low-income area of town and pulled up in front of a small clapboard house with a neat lawn, sparse flowerbeds and a few small trees. When we knocked on the door, a woman answered who was old enough to be my mother plus a few years. Her name was Mary. She invited us in and explained that her husband Joe and just gotten home from work. He was a mailman who walked a route everyday putting mail in boxes neatly mounted next to the front door of every house on his route.

Mary introduced me to Joe and during a simple meal I discovered that he not only was a “letter carrier” but also preached at a small country church a few miles from Amarillo on most Sunday mornings. He was paid in produce and eggs by the farmers who attended the church. We were eating some of his “pay check” that evening. Joe and Mary had raised two boys who were married and raising children of their own. After dinner, Joe pulled out a small projector and a filmstrip that was advanced manually after each slide would come up with a scripture and a brief explanation of some Biblical truth. We talked and I asked a few questions and then the evening was over. Joe and Mary asked if would come back the next week at the same time for another meal and more Bible study. I agreed and so it went for several weeks. Eventually, Joe asked if I wanted to give my life to Christ and be baptized and after some thought I said yes.

What I wanted to tell you was that the Bible study was academic and boring and not in the least compelling. What was compelling, however, was the love I felt in Joe and Mary’s home. Coming out of a very disengaged family of divorce, the genuine warmth and love extended to me along with the genuine warmth and adoration I saw exchanged between Joe and Mary was almost mesmerizing. The first time Mary opened the door you could almost feel the love in the home as if it had substance and was drifting out into the street. The Bible study explained Jesus but did not draw me to him. But the love I saw in the lives of two people who followed him did. I remember thinking that if that kind of love was found in Jesus then I wanted Jesus.

About five years later, I got word that Joe had died of a massive heart attack while delivering the mail. His funeral was scheduled mid-week and was to be held at a large church in Amarillo. I don’t remember if I had ever attended a funeral before but I was compelled to attend Joe’s. I ran a little late getting to the church and when I arrived I discovered that there was not even standing room left in the sanctuary so I had to stand outside and listen through open doors.

This was not a funeral for a preacher of a mega-church, a dignitary, or a pop-culture celebrity. It was the funeral of a letter carrier and country church preacher. Joe was, however, a celebrity in heaven. I’m certain of that. People were there because he and his wife Mary had touched so many with the genuine love of Christ. Every human being on the planet is starving for love. When someone genuinely touches that need, they remember. Even in the kingdom of heaven, faith, hope and love endure but the greatest is love.

As we search for more of Jesus, more of the Spirit, greater gifts, etc. we cannot forget love. Love is outward focused. All other things can look good – even spiritual – but can be self-focused. Jesus was outward. He came to serve rather than to be served and to give his life as a ransom for many. In his recent book, Soul Keeping, John Ortberg reports a quote from Dallas Willard who said in a response to Ortberg’s question about successful ministry, “What matters is not the accomplishments you achieve; what matters is the person you become” (p.49). The measure in heaven apparently is not how many people you bring to Jesus, the number of people you heal, or the number of demons you cast out but the number of people you love as Jesus loved. Joe knew that. Now I need to remember it.