| I Had a Mentor By Morton Bustard |
In January 1985, after a long flight from eastern Canada, I strolled through the Shreveport, Louisiana airport and shook hands with the man who helped shape my ministry, T. W. Barnes. This was my first encounter with the person I had heard so much about. He had extended an invitation for me to conduct a crusade at his church, and as a novice evangelist, I reluctantly accepted.
While his appearance exhibited a statesman, his demeanor exemplified a man with an intimate relationship with Christ. I recognized immediately that his reputation as a paragon of faith was not exaggerated. Believing the subsequent services in Minden were divinely directed, he assured me we were in store for a move of God. His encouraging words suppressed the anxiety I was experiencing. From that moment on I never felt intimidated in his presence.
Brother Barnes was as equally pronounced in the fruit of the Spirit as he was in the gifts of the Spirit and thus was truly a gentle giant. His ministry maintained balance although signs, wonders, and miracles were often the subject of his sermons.
His humility prohibited him from any intimations of self-importance, and in spite of our fifty-year age gap, he was more of a brother than a superior. He did not initiate spirituality for an appropriate occasion; it was his lifestyle.
Brother Barnes was a breath of fresh air to the healing ministry, which in that era had more than its quota of charlatans. His untarnished reputation and indisputable integrity restored confidence and motivated many to pursue the gifts of the Spirit. His influence proceeded far beyond sectarian boundaries. Mayors, physicians, educators, and ministers of various denominations petitioned him for prayer and counsel. He seemed to draw from an immeasurable reservoir of knowledge and energy. He loved his family dearly, was an avid reader, and passionately embraced life, but he treated time as if it belonged to everyone but himself. His door was opened to everyone. I enjoyed a close relationship with him for the last twenty years of his life. During these two decades I never witnessed him waiver. He was as familiar with valleys as with mountaintops; however, his invariable mantra of only believe never ceased. The unassuming town in northwest Louisiana where he ministered for more than fifty years considered him the pastor of the entire parish. From the day he passed away until several days after his funeral the marquis in the town square read: “Farewell Bro. Barnes - Minden will miss you.” Brother Barnes was as eager to instruct as I was to understand. Any advice I received was solicited. It would be uncharacteristic of him to make an imposition. Never was a sincere query denied.
The most accomplished athletes still employ coaches. It’s all about aptitude and attitude. Extraordinary physical ability without the desire to listen and learn is not a ticket to becoming inducted into the hall of fame.
Personally, I have chosen accountability over autonomy. There has never been a time in my ministry when I have not had an elder speaking into my life. Any student attempting achievement without conferring with a mentor is embarking on an exercise in futility. “Iron sharpeneth iron; so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend” (Proverbs 27:17).
Faith was the essence of T. W. Barnes’s life. Some of the greatest lessons I learned were a result of observing his daily routine. He sustained an attitude of prayer and could effortlessly transition when moved upon by the Holy Spirit. He made ministering look easy.
Brother Barnes possessed sensitivity without sanctimony. He understood his unique ministry was about stewardship not ownership, thine rather than mine. The spiritual progress of his protégés brought him great satisfaction.
There is a tale that suggests a young boy stepped into a studio where Michelangelo was working on a large slab of marble. He watched as large chunks of stone fell left and right. He saw nothing that intrigued him so he left. Several days later he returned to see a majestic marble lion. He approached the artisan and asked, “How did you know there was a lion in the marble?” Brother Barnes viewed people through the lens of faith. Those of us privileged to know him concur: his eyes were a dominant feature of his person. His vision could penetrate through layers of carnality and discover a spirit full of potential.
He not only invited me to stand on his shoulders, allowing me to see farther, he lowered himself to provide easy access. Brother Barnes’s complete lack of insecurity permitted him to provoke younger men and women to ascend to heights he had never reached. Personally, I have never taken a step in his shoes. He made them available, but it was obvious they wouldn’t fit.
T. W. Barnes was an advocate for the afflicted and an instructor for the apprentice. He affirmed the doctrine without being dogmatic. God trusted him with numerous miracles and many trusted him with their most personal problems. He was full of faith and faithful.
Brother Barnes understood the mantle was bigger than the man. When he became aware of his time of departure from earthly bonds, he explained to T. F. Tenney it was time for him to release the anointing. His success is multiplied through the ministries of his successors.
Morton Bustard is an evangelist and author. He and his wife, Marilyn, and their two daughters, Datha and Kayla, live in Alexandria, Louisiana.
Reprinted from May-June 2009 FORWARD
