Fighting the Good Fight

The World is a Better Place

RICK COLLUM

There are very few people of whom it could be said that the world is a better place by them being a part of it. The number of people about whom this could be said, unfortunately, seems to be becoming fewer and fewer. But I have no qualms adding Bill Bagents’s name to the list of people who have struggled to leave the world a better place. I have known Bill for more years than he or I would like to remember. It should help date it to know that we met as youth directors while he was at Florence Boulevard church of Christ, and I was at Oakland church of Christ.

The first time I saw him, he was walking across seven lanes of traffic to get to his work at Florence Boulevard, which serves as an introduction to the person I love and admire. He never chooses the easy way; most would have driven to work, but Bill would tell you he needed the fresh air—and how exhilarating it was to cross seven lanes of morning traffic.

This leads to one of the reasons we became fast friends. You see, Bill Bagents and I are different, not necessarily in the way the world defines different, but in that we are not like most people. It seems the world likes to put people in categories or pigeonholes, such as I am the preacher, he works at the plant, or she is a teacher. Bill will not fit in any of those cubby holes. While the world seems to think this to be a negative, we embrace our being different as being set apart. We like not being like everyone else. I think it comes from how we were raised. We both came from rural backgrounds, taught the old way of doing things. Sometimes this strict upbringing does not translate well in modern society. While this is true, I believe neither one of us would choose to change a thing. If we were not raised the way we were, we would not be the people we are. This is the reason we are such good friends: because we understand each other.

This friendship that quickly started years ago and continues—hopefully into eternity, has taken on many forms. We have been youth directors competing in Bible Bowls, deacons together at Mars Hill church of Christ, missionaries together in South Africa. Bill has not only been my friend and co-worker, but he has been my teacher, elder, minister, advisor, counselor, and mentor. Without my friend, I would not be the person I am today and certainly not the person that became a preacher.

Sadly, this is where our shared differences end. While I am happy being a country preacher, Bill is not as local. While his ministry and counseling have had a huge impact locally, Bill has been all over the world spreading the gospel. His down-to-earth demeanor and knowledge of God’s word, and understanding of people in general have opened doors that others can not enter. This reminds me of one of my favorite Bill stories. While visiting Africa, Bill was invited to go further into Africa than anyone with his skin color had been in over twenty years. When they arrived at their destination, those villagers twenty years old and younger rushed out to see Bill. They tried, without permission, to rub his skin to discover if underneath he was the same as them. My friend is so humble that he stood there until the last child had tried. These African villagers were taught a wonderful lesson, without a word being spoken.

These pages can not hold the impact that Bill Bagents has had on my life. In my feeble attempt to let you know about this mountain in my life, I am afraid it will look more like an anthill because you will only see a small part of my time with him. Just as a human being, Bill has taught me humility, empathy, unselfishness, and strength. Even the way he talks to others (he uses kind words and hardly ever raises his voice) is a lesson that I have failed miserably to incorporate in my own life.

Our relationship grew deeper and stronger at Mars Hill church of Christ when he was a preacher/elder there, and I was a deacon. Even though I was a deacon, a person who is supposed to be a servant of the body of Christ, I was spiritually still a pew-sitter. I would help do anything for the Mars Hill building: fix toilets, serve meals, change out lights, physical things. I was not doing anything to further the cause of Christ; I just could not make that connection between the physical and spiritual. Until one Sunday night, Bill preached a lesson on pride; it was like I finally could see what was holding me back. It was my pride; I was used to people respecting my authority. Pride was the trigger that was keeping me from being the Christian I needed to be. That night I repented, and Bill took me into the library and talked to me. I do not think he had ever seen me so emotional. I told him how his sermon had impacted me. It felt like he was pointing out all the flaws that were hindering me from becoming a better servant of God. Instead of calming me down, my preacher told me more about how dangerous pride was to the Christian, and that started my change toward becoming a better Christian.

A short time after this, I became the youth director at Mars Hill church of Christ. Now I was working for Bill in his role as an elder. We still shared the same relationship but in different roles. After two years of serving as a youth director, I received a phone call from an old friend from where I was raised, Cherokee, Alabama. He asked that I come down and preach for them the following Sunday. This led to me being asked to preach part-time. I would have to leave Mars Hill and my job as youth director. I had to meet with the elders to discuss my leaving, which did not go as I thought it would. I expected praise and encouragement because I was growing as a Christian; surprisingly, that was not what I received, partially because my wife worked there as a secretary and the eldership was worried that she would be away too much. And I am sure some thought I was not ready for this big of a move. I thought, Well at least I have Bill in my corner, only to find out that was not so much the case. He asked me hard questions and gave me many warnings about the glass house that preachers live in. Later I found out that Bill was scared that Cherokee was not the congregation for me. They had been through numerous splits and had never had a preacher that had served longer than three years at a time.

About this time, I lost my secular job and the congregation asked me to go full-time. So, I became the preacher at the Cherokee church of Christ. It seemed it was the providence of God; they wanted a preacher and I wanted to preach. It bothered me that my friend Bill did not seem to be on board. I believe it has already been established I am different, so I confronted my friend at Heritage Christian University, where he served as Academic Dean. Currently, I had been at Cherokee for well over a year. Bill told me that he did not want to see me hurt or discouraged. He informed me that he had heard of the growth of the church there and that I was becoming a better preacher. That was when he encouraged me to become a student at Heritage. I had had some discouragement in the past that had kept me from seeking higher education. But Bill told me to just take a class, that everyone should learn more about God and His word. He assured me he would be beside me all along the way. Not only did I take the class, but I also signed up as a freshman at the tender age of fifty-one. The first problem I encountered was when asked which teacher would be my advisor; I quickly wrote down my friend, Bill Bagents only to be told that the Academic Dean was never an advisor. Bill made an exception for me and helped me throughout my academic career.

One of those times came up in my first year. Heritage uses the Society of Biblical Literature format for its papers. They furnish you with a book to learn how to write in that style. After I had tried to use SBL in a paper, I was told to rewrite it because it did not even resemble the format it was supposed to be written in. As usual, I handled this in my normal way: I blew up. I went to Bill, telling him I was leaving and that I never would understand how to write in this style. Bill sat me down and asked me if I had even opened the book to learn how to write a paper. I sorrowfully had to admit I had never opened the book. He explained why we were to write in the SBL style and how I would continue to write in this way if I was a student there. He also told me in a very kind way that I was being stubborn by not trying to learn this new system. So not only did I open the book, but I also in time learned the SBL style of writing and eventually became the tutor to new students to help teach SBL.

Through my four years at Heritage in my undergraduate studies, I have lost track of the times that Bill had to put me back on track or explain me to a teacher who did not understand how to handle someone older than his or her father. I eventually graduated with honors. Besides my wife and family, no one was more excited (and perhaps relieved) than Bill Bagents.

But because he is different, my education was not over. Bill brought me a brochure showing how I could get a master’s degree in biblical counseling in two years. This had never entered my mind. Me, the guy who said, when he graduated, he would never take another course, was convinced to enroll. Two years later I graduated with my master’s degree. Shortly after my graduation, Bill asked my wife and me to accompany him and his wife on a two-week mission trip to South Africa. It was one of the most rewarding trips I have ever experienced. We became closer on the trip, sharing the struggles and the triumphs as we preached, taught, and visited all around the tip of Africa.

One of my favorite stories from this trip was when we had seven people to go to a congregation far away and only six seats available in the small car. My friend, the now vice-president of Heritage Christian University, the one who signed my diploma, rode in the trunk of this small station wagon with the luggage on top of him. Bill is different.

There is a man in the Bible who was also very different. Tucked away in the Gospel of Matthew, there is a man we call John the Baptist. He did not dress like others; he wore camel hair and had a big belt around his waist. He did not eat like others; he ate locusts and wild honey. He did not live as others lived; He lived in the wilderness. You could not put John the Baptist in a pigeonhole like the others; some tried to say he was like Elijah, but John the Baptist was different. But that did not stop John the Baptist from being an amazing man of God. In fact, Jesus Christ himself said that John the Baptist was the greatest man ever born. In all the years that Bill Bagents and I have been friends, there is no way of my knowing how many times he has explained me to someone else, but I have never had to explain Bill; I just say, "He is a great man of