Frank Pack – Scholar, Gentleman, Preacher, Friend
Frank Pack was the husband of Della Pack, whom I’ve already mentioned. He was among the first teachers in our Christian Colleges to earn a PhD degree. He loved to tell the story about his decision to begin doctoral studies at the University of Southern California. He made the decision while preaching for a church in Nashville. On the last Sunday evening with the Nashville church, one of the elders made a little speech. He said, “Brother Pack is leaving us. He’s going to California. Wants to get a Doctors’ degree. Thinks it will make him a better preacher. We’ll see.” Once he got there he was on a fast track to complete his doctoral work in record time. The University required PhD candidates to pass a proficiency test in three different languages before they would be awarded their degrees. He determined to complete the language studies in one summer, but as he put it, “I met my honey that summer.” Della delayed his plans for completing his language studies.
He was a remarkable man. He could hold his own among top academicians, and was highly respected in educational circles. He was a great preacher. Many college professors lack pulpit skills, but not Frank Pack. When I was in graduate school I heard him preach every Sunday, and I was enthralled with his ability. On the other hand he could be as common as dirt when talking to a farmer. He had a wide capacity for human relations.
He contributed two things to me that were incredibly important. During my senior year the Churches of Christ were embroiled in a controversy over congregational cooperation. I had aligned myself with the anti-institutional faction. I told Dr. Pack that I wanted to miss his class so I could attend the lectures at Florida Christian College, a school which promoted anti-institutional views. He called me into his office to talk about it. He said, “I ask only one thing of you. Try to be objective.” That was the best advice he could have given me. At first I resented being called in, but I never forgot what he said. Within two years, I had abandoned that point of view.
It was also during that year that I enrolled in his Great Bible Doctrines class. I guess I expected him to talk about the controversial issues of the day. Instead, he started with God. He went on to talk about this like the nature of Christ, the work of the Holy Spirit, grace, faith and love. It was the nearest thing to a study of systematic theology that I’ve ever gone through. That class gave me my first positive exposure to grace. Prior to that time I had mostly heard about the things that grace doesn’t cover. I was enthralled with his presentation. Years later when I wrote my book on grace, he was one of the persons to whom I dedicated the book.
When Ann and I got married we were attending Graham Street in Abilene where he preached. Because we didn’t want to go through newlywed ribbing, we deliberately arrived late, sat on the back, and planned to leave early. He spotted us from the pulpit, and the first words out of his mouth were, “We’re really glad to have Norman Bales and his new bride here with us tonight.” So much for getting away unnoticed.
The last time we saw the Packs was in the nineties. He was retired from teaching at Pepperdine, but still preaching for the Culver-Palms church in Los Angeles. I had gone to Pepperdine to make a presentation at the Bible lectures. I was flabbergasted when he invited me to teach his Bible class on Sunday morning. Talk about feeling out of your league. I spent the first few minutes of the class praising the Packs. A lady took me aside and said, “You have no idea how much damage you’ve done to this church.” I was horrified. What on earth could I have said? She said, “We’ve been trying to teach Frank Pack humility for the last thirty years, and you blew it all away in five minutes.” Then she smiled and said, “I had you going there for a minute didn’t I?” She sure did.
The Packs took us out to eat at the Los Angeles Yacht Club. He quickly explained what while he was a member of the club, he did not own a yacht. That was the last time we ever saw them. They didn’t live long after that. It was an experience we’ll never forget.
No comments:
Post a Comment