by Jerry King
Synopsis: Richard King was a lover of the truth, which caused him to love preachers of the truth and small churches that struggled to support the truth.
My father, Richard King, suffered a massive stroke during the night of Oct. 15, 2019, and passed to his reward on Sunday morning, Oct. 20. He always thought it would be nice to die at church, and he almost made it. He was pronounced dead at 8:35 a.m., Bible class started at 9:00. At 92 years of age, his body had worn down to the point where he could no longer walk. Although his mental faculties may have faded a bit with age, he continued to have an excellent memory and keen biblical insight. He was much loved and highly respected throughout his considerable circle of influence among the brethren.
Dad's father was a struggling peanut and watermelon farmer in the sandy soil of Floresville, Texas, 30 miles south of San Antonio. My grandfather was a steward and adult Bible class teacher in the Methodist church in a time when Methodism meant strong moral values, and so dad was raised with a sense of morality that he would never abandon throughout his life. Even in his teenage years in the Navy during WWII (his father had to sign the enlistment papers because he was only seventeen), he stayed true to his understanding of right and wrong.
Several years after he left the Navy, dad moved to the Houston area and became a pipefitter in a local chemical refinery. While he believed that Jesus was the Son of God and had a firm understanding of Jesus' moral requirements, he was not a Christian when he married Pauline Hawks at the age of twenty-four. Two things changed that. First, when my oldest sister began to ask dad to go to church with her and mom, he just couldn't say no, and he began to hear things he had never heard before. Second, he attended a home Bible study in which he heard things that made him angry—things that he just knew were not in the Bible—and he was determined to prove the teacher wrong. Yet, when he studied those things on his own, he discovered that the teacher was right and before long, Luther Blackmon baptized him at the Red Bluff Church of Christ building in Pasadena, Texas. Thus began a six-decade love affair with the truth of God's word.
After his baptism, dad hit the ground running in his service to Jesus Christ. He soon became a deacon at the Red Bluff church. He was instrumental in beginning the College Park church in Deer Park, Texas, and in the late sixties, was selected to serve as one of its elders. When he retired from pipe fitting in the mid-eighties, he and mom moved to Centerville, Texas, where he was soon selected, along with Victor Hillman, to be an elder. For over twenty years the two worked valiantly together to keep the Centerville church sound when liberalism threatened.
When mom and dad's health began to decline with advancing age, Richard made the difficult decision for them to move to the Dallas area to be near their sons. They joined the West Allen church in 2009. Although his physical health prevented him from serving as an elder or teaching a Bible class, he was always present at classes and worship services until very near the end of his life. He was always quick with a Scripture or word of wisdom to add to our studies. He was an observer of people and would offer a sage word or two when he felt it was needed. He never lost his sense of being a shepherd, and his interaction with the saints at West Allen garnered him much love and respect. With his cowboy hat, boots, and long gray beard (which he decided to grow several years ago), he struck quite the memorable pose of a Texas gentleman.
Dad never sought the limelight; in fact, he avoided it like the plague. In all the good he did, he wanted the glory to go to Jesus Christ. Just before his death, dad issued instructions for no funeral, only a short graveside service with the immediate family. "And don't talk about me, talk about Jesus!" he commanded. My answer to him was, "Now, how do we have a service for you and not mention you?" We honored the graveside only request, but there was a large crowd. We did find it necessary to talk about him, and it went a little long. Dad would have hated it. Someone told me, "Well-loved people don't get small funerals. It's the burden they bear after they are gone." I reckon the same is true for tributes in Truth Magazine.
Regardless, there are two things that perhaps make this tribute appropriate:
First, my dad's love for the truth made him a lover of those who present the truth. My dad absolutely loved gospel preachers, and he loved them in deed as well as in word. He traveled all over central Texas to gospel meetings. Dad and mom loved to show hospitality to preachers in their home. As my brother noted at the graveside, no one will ever know how many times dad dug deeply into his wallet to help a struggling preacher or to help send a preacher to some far-off place to preach. Many who never met him face to face have been beneficiaries of his love for gospel preachers. His love for preachers made him beloved by preachers.
Second, my dad's love for the Lord's church made him a lover of small churches struggling to make it. Dad was a hunter, which took him to some pretty remote areas of the Great Northwest. As a result, he became familiar with a host of small, struggling works in those areas, and he was actively interested in each one. Whenever he became aware that a new church was beginning, he would be quick to answer the call for funds. He was particularly thrilled when news came to him a couple of years ago of the establishment of a sound church in his beloved hometown of Floresville.
Dad was by no means materially rich, but he had a rich and generous heart for the things of Jesus Christ. Perhaps more than anything else, that is his legacy.
My dad would never forgive me if I failed to include some words of encouragement to my fellow preachers and elders in this tribute, so here you go: The first book my father gave me after I began preaching was H.E. Phillips' wonderful Scriptural Elders and Deacons. On the inside cover, he wrote, "To my dear son Jerry—May you always view your circumstances in the light of God's word, and never view God's word in the light of your circumstances. Love, Dad."
My father had known the tremendous disappointment of watching preachers and elders he loved depart from the faith in order to justify some changing circumstance in their lives—a divorce and remarriage either of them or a loved one, a beloved child's refusal to do right, the desire to cling to a job in a church where some departure from the truth was being championed by people of influence, etc. His challenge to you would be, "Preach the word! Be ready in season and out of season. Convince, rebuke, exhort with all longsuffering and teaching" (2 Tim. 4:2). He would encourage you to stay moored to the truth no matter the storm that threatens to loose you. He would want to remind you that after you have fought the good fight, and have finished the race, and have kept the faith, there is a crown of righteousness laid up for you, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will give to you on that day (2 Tim. 4:7-8).
Author Bio: Jerry King has worked with the West Allen church in Allen, TX for thirteen years. He and his wife, Amy, live nearby in McKinney. They have three children and four grandchildren scattered across Texas. The church website is westallenchurch.org. He can be reached at jerryking1956@sbcglobal.net.
