Giving the children's bread to dogs

On August 8 I was in Lancaster, Pennsylvania visiting my daughter and grandchildren, and I did not have a car or an easy way to get to any church on Sunday morning. So I decided to try television religious shows. I didn’t have a chance to do any research ahead of time, on the Internet or in any other way. I just turned on the television and looked for religious programming. The first one I found was a local broadcast: “Stand Up for Jesus,” featuring Pastor Buddy Flosser, pastor of Faith Tabernacle in Lancaster.

When the program begins we see Pastor Flosser in the pulpit,; his first words are “Greetings, everyone, in the wonderful name of Jesus.” There is some kind of shadowy background behind him. He informs us that this show is a ministry that his father began, and which he is now trying to continue. He lets viewers know that they can come see him preach at Faith Tabernacle at 2:00 pm on Sundays. The reason for the late service time is that he also pastors another church, in Havre de Grace, Maryland – Bethel Apostolic Church. That is a rough traveling schedule!

He asks viewers to send in prayer requests, and also lets us know that we can request prayer cloths. He reminds us that the program is a faith ministry and needs our financial support. He notes that giving money to the program will bring heavenly rewards: “You will be right there when the rewards are given out, because you helped us stay on the air.”



I’m kind of surprised that he launches immediately into asking for money. Apparently he wants to make sure viewers get the message about donating money right up front.

Next Pastor Flosser introduces his daughters, slender young women wearing modest long skirts. They sing a duet, and do a nice job although they have a peculiar way of standing completely still while singing, neither smiling nor making any movements. They look uncomfortable, but they sing beautifully.

After the music, Pastor Flosser tells us that one of his daughters heads the choir at the church in Maryland. He also says that Pentecostal people have a joy in the Lord that shows in their music.

Seven minutes into the program, Pastor Flosser begins his sermon, titled “In Distress.” He is preaching from I Samuel, the story of how all the men in Israel who were “in distress, in debt, and discontented” came to David in the Cave of Adullam, and joined his team of great warriors. His next example is Lot, who never did become dissatisfied with life in Sodom, and therefore “died a miserable wretch of a man.”

He reads a letter he has received from someone who is struggling with the pain of living with an alcoholic. He talks about the rich man and Lazarus, the prodigal son, Jacob wrestling with God. His voice gets progressively tearier as the sermon goes on. He points out that the Bible is filled with unhappy people looking for something better – just like real life.

The sermon started on an emotional high and just gets cranked up higher as it goes on – this is a traditional Pentecostal preaching style that I haven’t seen in quite a few years. It never went away, of course – I’ve been away from it. I notice that Pastor Flosser’s voice is quite raspy, probably from many years of loud, shouting-style preaching.

He tells us that his father never graduated from high school, but was a man anointed by God. “I saw devils come out of people when my dad prayed for them. I saw miracles.”

Next he makes a very interesting point about the Syro-Phoenician woman with the demon-possessed daughter. I’ve heard many sermons on this text, and I know that every preacher who works with it has to account for the abrupt way Jesus dismisses her pleas for help: “But Jesus said to her, ‘Let the children be filled first, for it is not good to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.’ And she answered and said to Him, ‘Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs under the table eat from the children’s crumbs.’

It is surprising, to say the least, to find Jesus calling the woman a dog. Some apologists have attempted to explain the difficulty away, believe it or not, by claiming that He was making a distinction between nasty feral dogs and beloved little pet dogs, and the woman was in the latter category, so it was not really an insult. That seems like apologetics gone mad to me.

Buddy Flosser makes no attempt to soften Jesus’ remark. In fact, he says that this is an example of Jesus making a racist remark! Then he adds, “Let me tell you something. The devil’s after your children. Parents need to experience distress on their children’s behalf.” His point seems to be that the Syro-Phoenician woman was in such deep distress on behalf of her daughter that she was willing to endure anything, even racist insults, if only she could obtain healing for the girl.

What’s interesting is that Pastor Flosser is not justifying racist comments but rather identifying with the woman – his comments make it clear that he, too, has felt the sting of stereotyping and criticism. He frames the story as Jesus’ effort to see how far the woman was willing to go to save her daughter. This is a very interesting take on an old story.

He next asks us to visit his church’s website, and tells a story about a young drug addict who met Jesus through their church and is now an evangelist. He directs his comments personally to anyone listening who may be convinced that his life is a failure and that all is hopeless – that he is a dog.

This is the attractive face of fundamentalism. (Did you think there was nothing attractive about it?) Pastors who seem to understand what it’s like to know that the larger world sees you as worthless – they can speak to people who need a lot of help. Pastor Flosser doesn’t promise anyone riches or respect, at least not in this world. In fact, he seems to be promising that those who follow Christ may very well lose the respect of the world. But they will gain something far more important. That’s the promise of this type of fundamentalism, and it appeals to many folks who would be completely uninterested in attending a more sophisticated church.
Pastor Flosser asks us to call or write if we need any help, and promises to return every phone call. He makes one more appeal for funds. He doesn’t promise that giving to his church will make you rich, though, which is what a prosperity gospel preacher might say. This is more in the style of one poor man asking another for help.

Later I checked the church’s website, where I learned that Pastor Flosser felt the call to preach at the age of 11, and was ordained as a minister at the age of 12, whereupon he became known as “the boy preacher” (of course).

Well, that’s a hard road to travel. I have tremendous sympathy for child preachers. What a thing to go through.

He and his wife, Millie, have five children; the oldest son has a PhD in organic chemistry, and the youngest teaches mathematics.

I did send away for a prayer cloth. I receive a little rectangle of thin beige fabric cut out with pinking shears, and a nice handwritten note thanking me for the small donation and praying that God would bless me. It was signed “Pastor and Sis Flosser,” and I think Sis wrote it.

Prayer cloths have been around for a long time. The Biblical warrant for them comes from the book of Acts, which tells the story of pieces of the apostle Paul’s apron being used to heal the sick. I tried to find more information about this passage, and was surprised to come across an academic discussion of just what kind of garment Paul’s apron might have been. It seems that some scholars think the passage refers to a kind of sweat rag used by laborers.

Even more startling, there is a whole tradition of public speakers using sweat rags to mop their faces during a speech. Lawyers typically used them in court . There are ancient discussions, in fact, as to the best way to mop one’s brow during a speech so as to make the greatest impression on the audience. And I had assumed that James Brown’s act was original – it goes back to the ancient Greeks and Romans!

At any rate, Buddy Flosser certainly didn’t invent prayer cloths. Lots of people – Catholic, Orthodox, and Protestant – use holy objects as helps in worship, and have no doubt throughout the centuries maintained varying levels of reverence and gullibility in regard to these objects. I don’t plan to actually use the cloth to enrich my prayer life, but who am I to scorn it? Buddy and Sis exhibit a lot more faith than I do, and anyone who is willing to work with alcoholics and drug addicts – and with people who are sneered at either openly or privately as dogs -- has my respect.

Photo courtesy Flickruser sierravalleygirl