Thursday, October 4, 2012


As Published in the Newport (TN) Plain Talk
Jul 19, 2012


My typing leaves a little to be desired – well, a lot actually. Mrs. Gregg was never able to lasso me into her typing class during my seven years up on “The Hill”; and Mavis Beacon just never appealed to me somehow. So I just hang in there with the three fingers going at a keyboard sub novice speed.

What I can’t figure out is why nobody ever told me that someday we would have computers and I would need to be able to key the boards on the keyboards for computers and smart phones and televisions and dvd players and I-pods and tablets and stuff ‘n things.

Why didn’t Mr. Bray hogtie me and march me lockstep with all the other red necks into that third floor class and line us up like sheep to the slaughter and tell us to “git er done”?

There has to be a reason; I just don’t know what it is yet!

It could be because that was then and this is now. I don’t want to bore you with a walk down yet another memory lane; but Howdy Doody was still running strong, Boston Blackie and Charlie Chan were solving crimes and Superman was jumping over tall buildings with a single bound; and it was all in beautiful black and white (remember those “screen savers” that were put up there on the 12 inch – the one with the big “full regaliaed” Indian in the middle) – (oh, I forgot; they didn’t call them “screen savers” until a little later) – and whowouldathoughtit about all the things that run with keyboards and microchips today? Mercy me, even eight-tracks were an amazing marvel of technology still light years in the future.

Uncle Sam’s Air Force introduced me to the wild and wonderful world of computers; and I was able to crank up the old Underwood (mom had graduated to something called an “electric”) and whip out weekly progress reports with blinding speed of two fingers and five carbons (notice I have graduated to three fingers now. There is hope for the old dinosaur yet).

I didn’t get the hang of an “electric” for a long time. I mean, I sneezed one time and typed a whole line across the page – almost sawed the paper in two.

Now, look at me! I even know a few speed tricks to hasten things up a bit; you know J4F.

Ok, you guys, chill and QL; or is this just 2G4U?

Seminary would be a breeze now; I could take those notes with blazing speed; and then ask my instructor AWHFY? I might even throw a few AYPI’s in there just for good measure. Of course, since GMTA, he might tell me to GAL, especially after I asked him to KISS.

Later on, he could ask me RUOK; and I could assure him that I am not SITD.

I could sign my epistles with 0:), or even a 8-X. I would never be :-
or :-(.

One thing for sure; my columns would never again be ZZZZ; and everyone would know that I am writing TIC; YYSSW! And I might even work in a AWG2HTGTTA?

And my final excursion into literary illegitimacy and journalistic jocularity is WYSIWYG.

I pronounce this little gem wysiwyg; which is almost like it is spelled, isn’t it? For the uninitiated members of our Frogpond Fiveminuteville Flock, this means “What you see is what you get”; and it really ought to be a byline of every one of us.

I hope and trust that “He was real” could be written on all our grave markers; because that is what the people of the world need and want to see in people of the Faith.

After all, what good is telling what we know until we prove that we know what we tell? What good is talking the talk until we prove that we walk the walk?

Yes, I write these TIC columns to get your attention; and if I can hold it until you reach this point; maybe the message can get through, maybe the point can come across.

Be a wysiwyg! The children need a wysiwyg in the classroom, the pulpit and the home to show them the way. The young people need a wysiwyg in the peer group to show them the way. The young adults need a wysiwyg in the work force to show them the way. The adults need a wysiwyg in their unique circles to show them the way.

I guess, we could just about agree that everybody needs at least one wysiwyg to be real and really show them the way; and if you are fortunate enough to have more than one wysiwyg in your life, you are of all people, most fortunate!

Tom Mooty is pastor of the West End Baptist Church of Newport and writes the Five Minute Column for the Thursday and the Weekend Editions of the Newport Plain Talk. Your comments are appreciated (especially the good ones) which can be sent to P.O. Box 851, Newport; or to

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Monday, August 6, 2012


As published in the Newport (TN) Plain Talk

Jul 15, 2012

Column Number: FM 1229

So, I’m driving down Morrell Springs Road the other day; and I saw an incredible display of smart from a dumb animal!

No, I am not talking about an intelligent performance from a critter of the two-legged persuasion (there are not too many of those anyway); I am waxing eloquent about an act of such perspicacy, such perspicuity, such perspicacity, and such percipience as to defy all realms of sagacity and acumen.

Actually, with such a build-up; this must rank up there with Creation on the first page and The Second Coming on the last page. Well, no; nothing can reach to those heights; but it was purty ‘portant, I betcha.

It answers an age old question that children have asked their older and smarter (in some cases) leaders: “How do those cows walk around the sides of those hills without falling off, rolling down, and ending up giving pre-churned butter or pre-ground beef?”

You got that question if you have been in these here hills long enough to have kids.

So, as I was saying, I was driving down Morrell Springs Road one day and lo and behold, I saw it! It was an act of such acute, astute, shrewd, clear-headed, discerning, penetrating, piercing comprehension as to de….. well, you know!

There he/she was, standing there casually munching his/her way to the butcher shop – the most intelligent, keen, canny, discerning, and clever four legged critter of the bovine persuasion I have ever seen.

All his/her peers were standing precariously on the side of the hill, desperately trying to find a level square foot on the “cow trail” that serpentined its way around the sloping landscape.

They were all having great difficulty trying to maneuver their way to the next little clump of graminoids of the pasture grass persuasion on their way from here to there – but not the budding bovine that had captured my undivided.

I think he/she was a Charolais type of the domesticated ungulate family of Bos primigenius. I did not inquire as to the specifics of my case study in bovinology; whether he/she was a bull, cow, heifer, calf, steer, ox, or springer – that didn’t matter; he/she was what my wife, “Miss ‘Nita” called “the other white meat”.

As a side note; my dear mother-in-law once made a frantic call to the Oak Ridge 911 operator; and when all the tape recorders came up to speed and all off-duty personnel had been awakened for this bonified emergency, “Mimmi” breathlessly cried “There’s a bull heifer in my back yard”.

Seems that he/she had jumped the cell bars of a pick-up truck and sprinted to freedom in Mimmi and Daddy Bill’s back yard; but she was too swift to let the escapee escape; and very soon, another freedom loving “bull heifer” was once again incarcerated.

Some of you will get that about midnight tonight; but if not, call my son-in-law, Larry the Dairy Guy and ask him about that.

Anyway, I digress. That intelligent Charolais was standing perpendicular to the path, with his/her front legs up the slope and back legs down the slope (well, duh); and enjoying a leisurely repast of the afore-mentioned graminoids. It was actually very easy because the slope of the hill brought the grass right up closer to the intake valve of the milk/meat making process.

Smart, huh? I told you, we grow ‘em right around here; and they get smarter the closer the farm is to Frogpond! That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. I bet you thought I was never going to get to the point didn’t you?

Are you smart enough to have made the decision to follow the only begotten Son of the Creator of this wonderful world? Man has made such a mess of the world’s system; we need to stop and smell the roses and allow the Lord to speak to us every once in awhile.

Tom Mooty writes the Five Minute Column for the Thursday and the Weekend Editions of the Newport (TN) Plain Talk. Send your favorable comments to P.O. Box 851, Newport 37822; or to Send all unfavorable comments to your own "File 13".

As published in the Newport (TN) Plain Talk

Jul 12, 2012

Column Number: FM 1228

This is the column for which you have all been waiting. You have all been asking for this subject to come front and center. Those of you familiar with this title are probably thinking about catfish right about now; but since I am seriously “fishermanly” challenged, that is not what is going on in the old grey matter.

No, I am thinking about an incident that presented itself outside my bay window the other day; and it involves some of my critters!

Ok, so where do I start? Since June was a big month birthdaywise around the Frogpond Five Minute Headquarters, we decided to celebrate all of them together in one big swell foop; and since my kids are too cheap to buy individual gifts, we included Dads’ and Moms’ Days in that too – and, you guessed it, Miss ‘Nita and I got one gift between us (I told you they were cheap; they say frugal; tomato – tomahto).

Miss ‘Nita and I found ourselves to be the proud owners of a genuine high speed, down draft, double clutching, e-flat bird feeder (not installed nor assembled, batteries not included, and for best results do not remove from plastic bag); so waddiyougonnado?

Well, you know what they always say – “Don’t let the bird feeder get you down”; so, I put my seven years of high school physics 101 to work and figured out how to assemble the thing and fill the thing and hang the thing; I did so with great gusto and awaited my first customer.

The angry birds (the great big ole black noisy critters) got the word first (they must be on facebook) and flooded the front forty like it was a Hitchcock movie. They first lit in on the droppings (the bird seed type, not the other type) that I had spilled in my excursion into assembly, fillery, and hangery.

They protected their four square feet of turf like those storm troopers outside the Star Wars Canteen. But, here came a male blue jay.

Now, normally, I don’t allow these beautiful but obnoxious critters through my electric critter fence; but this one got through and I wanted to watch the show. He went up on top; and, although the angry birds didn't like him being up there, they were all too busy feeding off the bottom, they didn’t issue anything stronger than a “caw’ or two – and he didn’t pay them no mind.

Now, comes a male red bird – one of my favorites; and he immediately went up top. Actually, he had read the manual on “How To Influence Birds and Make Feathered Friends” and began kicking out enough bird seed for the bottom feeders to staff a wedding processional; but they didn’t get the message and began to object because he was “raining on their parade”; and one of them flew up and ran “Red” out of Dodge.

He came back again and again, and I guess the angry birds got tired (or full) and let him have the whole cafĂ©; and he brought in his girl. She tried a little bottom feeding herself but she was not built for that and, after a sheepish little look up top, she flew up and began to help herself. Red was flying around in protective cover like a “harrier” around a “carrier”. NOTE; you can see this on the ‘net under “carrier harriers”.

Next came the little guys, and even a confused hummer. He had not gotten the memo that a hummer feeder will be next Mom’s/Dad’s Day.

These guys wanted fresh food; they were not satisfied with road kill scattered on the bottom. Even a squirrel checked it out. He/she/it climbed the nearby oak and stretched out but couldn’t reach the metal pole. Then, he went to the ground and looked over the possibilities of a leap into the air; no go. His looks upward told me he was considering climbing the metal pole and, yep, he tried. Got up a foot or two, and then slid back down.

Meanwhile, “Red” came back and kicked him some dregs out – trying to make peace, you know? Didn’t work, Chip (or Dale – never could tell them apart) wanted up top like the big boys and tried and tried and cried and cried. Talk about frustrated! He was not content to bottom feed; but not equipped to top feed.

Surprise, the next day, Chip/Dale had scratched off enough metal filings to enable a climb to the top and for a while, he was king of the hill, scattering droppings to all the unfortunates down below.

I did the only manly thing I could do. I scared him off and greased the pole! I know! I know! I know what “Radar” O’Reilly (no kin to Bill) said in an episode of “Mash”: “Critters is people too”; but enough was enough.

The rest of the story will come down the yellow brick soon; but, boys and girls, what have we learned today?

You, my dear friend, are special acts of God’s Creation; and you are not designed to feed off the dregs of the world, taking a little here and a little there from the devil and his ilk. You were designed to be on top; as a special breed – a Child of the Living God!

Are you living up to your potential? No? Don’t know how to get back on top? I do; and I’ll surely share!

Tom Mooty writes the Five Minute Column for the Thursday and Weekend Editions of the Newport Plain Talk. This excursion into literary mis-excellence also appears on the website – Your comments are appreciated (especially the good ones) which can be sent to P.O. Box 851, Newport; or to

Thursday, April 19, 2012


As published in the Newport (TN) Plain Talk
Release Date – Apr 19, 2012
Column Number - 1216

Our title for this experience into literary excellence makes a lot of good old fashioned Frogpond horse sense – if you allow it! Something good can come from something bad if you are perceptive enough to perceive the good when you are presented with the bad.

Allow me to illustrate this principle. Have you ever done something out of the ordinary, away from the norm, distant from your groove – and you can’t explain why; but when you look back at the entire experience, you see that something bad could have happened, had you continued in your same old rut?

I rest my case!

Well, not exactly; because I have another couple of classic experiences to share; and every Christian has them, they just might not have been receptive to receive them at the time.

My friend Euretha Carson told me that she was driving up the old Knoxville Highway towards Frogpond when that last big storm hit. First, the wind came up, and she braved onward; then came the rain, and she slowed down a bit, but continued on. When the hail came, she took the option that just “happened” to present itself and pulled off to let it pass.

When the clearing cleared and the dark clouds undarkened; she noticed that just up the road, a big tree had fallen across the highway and she would possibly have hit it – or maybe even been under it - had she continued up the yellow brick.

“Just happened”, huh? No! From something seemingly bad came something noticeably good. Just ask anyone who is observant enough (they have to be a Believer so they will not automatically assume that this stuff “just happens”).

By the way, if I might wax a little eloquent for a moment, Euretha and I were colleagues at the old Southern Bell Telephone Company; and I was working with her on the phone on a bad situation. When we got it done, she asked me to come to a revival that the West End Baptist Church was having; and “Miss ‘Nita” and I went – because she asked – and that is when I started going there and am there today! You see, from a bad experience came an explanation; from a situation came a solution; from something bad came something good.

Want more? I got a million of ‘em! We can all think of things that have happened that cannot be explained by any other reason except that God did it!

West End Baptist owns and operates a sign up on “our corner” of West End Street and Knoxville Highway (perhaps you have heard of it). We call her “Ima” – “Ima Sign”; and she hangs in there 24/7/365 – well most of the time. She broke recently, and we tried everything to resuscitate her; but it really looked bad for the home team. We gave her a transfusion of new parts; but she still didn’t respond.

Then we gave her a “joint replacement” of the wireless transmitter; and, in so doing, Ron had to go up into the inside of the steeple; and, guess what? Go on - guess! Ok; they found that one of the four bolts holding the steeple had failed and it was leaning towards Frogpond by as much as two inches. One more storm like that last one, and either First Baptist or Lincoln Avenue would have had another steeple sticking out of their existing one!

That’s the bad; so where’s the good? We (actually Larry, Lisa, Gracie, and Jack) went up and fixed the bolt, tightened it down, and made it steady as a rock again. Had we not had the momentary inconvenience of a dead sign, they would never have found the faulty bolt (I mean, how often do you guys go up inside your steeples and check the bolts); and First Bapti … well you know.

God is active in our lives; but He does not choose to micromanage. You have a free will and are free to stump your toe if you want to disregard His Leadings. Good can come from these experiences but you have to allow it to come out. It has happened to all of you!

Calvary looked like something bad (as indeed it was – momentarily); but from that Sacrifice on Calvary comes our Salvation through Christ. It only comes from God through Jesus Christ; no one else ever died for you – in your place – AS you! No one else did that but Jesus The Christ; and He is wanting us to tell people the “Good News” (“The Gospel”).

And that is a good thing!

These columns are written by Tom Mooty, Pastor of Newport’s West End Baptist Church; and appear each Thursday in the Newport Plain Talk Newspaper. Please feel free to forward these masterpieces to your friends and family around the world; and send all comments to or P.O. Box 851, Newport 37822, TN 37822.

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As published in the Newport (TN) Plain Talk
Release Date – Apr 12, 2012
Column Number - 1215


Ever heard that expression: “The ground is level at (you fill in the blank). It is apparently a promise that everyone will be treated equally well; that opportunities will be shared equally; and all that sounds really nice. The only problem is, “It just flat ain’t true”.

Someone wrote on this subject and concluded with this bombshell of a comment: “They say everyone is equal; but some are more equal than others”.

Actually, it just makes sense to realize that we all have different problems that rise to different intensities requiring different solutions; and level ground just won’t cut it in many situations.

My grandfather always walked with a limp, (as far back as I can remember) because he had one leg that was longer than the other one. He used to love to make the same old tired joke when he would visit us in the greater metro area of Frogpond in the “hills and stills” of East Tennessee and saw that very familiar sight of cows grazing on the side of a hill. He would always say that he would fit in real well on that hillside because he could “walk level” on those trails. We always laughed because … well just because!

Now that I have approached old geezerdom; I do the same as he and I hope my grandkids do the same as me!

Actually, it brings up a very important issue which must be resolved; do those cows, in fact, have one set of legs shorter on one side? If they don’t, how do they walk around on those steep hillsides? If they do; what happens when they get down on level ground (if they can find any); or, perish the thought, reverse themselves and walk the other way on the other side of the hill? And, by the way, do you risk milking them on the leaning side or choose the safer upper side?

These things all need to be explained; and I think Congress should spend a gazillion of our green ‘Murican dollars to figure it out. A new cabinet position could be formed; and a new tsar could be paid; and – well, you know…

The simple truth is that unlevel ground causes problems for workers, runners, walkers, and baby carriage pushers (does anybody push those things anymore; do those things even exist anymore?).

Life has its peaks and valleys; we are not all the same! Everything is not always vanilla; into every life some Moose Tracks must fall! Everyone has different skill sets and we all need to work together to reach the goal.

In studying Solomon’s Temple in the Bible, we found that the Israeli had basic agricultural skills and the Sidonians had basic carpentry skills with wood, metal, and stone. One needed food, the other had food; one needed carpentry skills, the other had carpentry skills – and so they worked together to get that amazing job done.

People face different problems in different ways.

Some run around the problem; and never get around to solving it. They make a lot of noise and create a lot of activity; but they prefer to DEFER solving the problem.

Some run away from the problem; and likewise never get around to solving it. They too make a lot of noise and create a lot of activity; but they prefer to DENY solving the problem.

Some run through the problem; taking and tackling little portions of it at a time, one day at a time, one step at a time. They do not make a lot of noise and do not create a lot of activity; but they prefer to DEAL with the problem – and they come through on the other side as a winner!

We are all different! Just look around you; take a good look, and you will see.

The only place I know where the “ground is truly level” is Calvary; because that depends only upon how God feels and how man feels doesn’t enter into it at all! Oh, we try to put our own spin on the crucifixion and make it into something we want it to be – but sin is sin; and only Calvary’s Sacrifice of Jesus Christ can deal with it!

In that sense; and only in that sense, it is “one size fits all”; and you must come His Way – or you don’t get there!

These columns are written by Tom Mooty, Pastor of Newport’s West End Baptist Church; and published each Thursday. Please fell free to forward them to your friends and family around the world; and send all comments to or P.O. Box 851, Newport, TN 37822.

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As published in the Newport (TN) Plain Talk
Release Date – Apr 5, 2012
Column Number - 1214

My title this time comes from the words contained in a Gospel song from days past; I remember neither the title nor the artist; but these words were somewhere in there.

It had to do with Easter Sunday’s approach after the climactic events of the crucifixion.

King Jesus had ridden into the Holy City (Jerusalem, not Nashville, New York, Brussels, Rome, and certainly not Washington, DC - pullleeessse); and made a final offer of Himself as King – but, after having gotten caught up in the immediate excitement of the moment, most (not all) of the people ultimately followed the leadership of most (not all) of their “leaders” and screamed out for Jesus to be crucified!

Dark days, sad days for His followers! You see, they didn’t know that this was necessary, in fact, essential to effect God’s Plan whereby they – and you and I could ultimately be saved and taken to heaven when we die (or Jesus returns, whichever comes first)!

We know that – well, we have been exposed to it - whether we “know” it or not is up for grabs – but they didn’t have a clue!

They should have; He had certainly given them clues several times; but their minds were clouded with their delusions of grandeur of “sitting next to Him at His throne”, etc.

And so, they missed it; they missed the greatest point of the greatest plan ultimately designed and given by Omniscient, Omnipotent God Almighty.

But Sunday Morning was coming down!

Joseph of Arimathaea had spent untold amounts of money and time having his tomb carved out of the solid rock wall; only to freely donate it to His Master. To Joseph’s credit, He didn’t know that Christ was only going to use it for seventy-two hours (three days and nights); and, as was their custom, an immediate burial was accomplished on the evening of the day of the crucifixion.

Before dawn on what we know as “Easter Sunday”, three ladies came to the tomb to finished their hurried burial process (anointing the body with spices); and found the stone already rolled away; and angels told them what had happened. Two of them left to tell the others and received an appearance by the Risen Christ.

Mary of Magdala was left there and saw a “man” she assumed was Joseph’s gardener; and also received a special appearance from the Risen Christ. She too, hurried off to tell everyone.

Then came Peter and John after the ladies had told them the good news. John (the younger of the two) got there first and was peering inside the darkened tomb when Peter came blundering right on inside to see for himself. John was then emboldened by Peter’s actions and went inside; and he, too, became an eyewitness that Jesus was not there.

There are two locations for that tomb that tourists are shown in Jerusalem. One of them has been chiseled away by unthinking tourists; but the other is still right there – and I am a witness; I can assuredly attest that Jesus’ body is in neither of them!

Later that day, Jesus appeared to two disciples (Cleopas and his wife, Mary?) as they sadly made their way back home to Emmaus; and when they finally recognized Him (they weren’t looking for Him and their vision was distorted by their grief) they made the dangerous journey back to Jerusalem to add their voices to the growing crowd of those who had witnessed these events!

That night, He appeared to ten of His Disciples; a week later to those ten plus Thomas; later to over five hundred Believers at the Sea of Galilee; and the eyewitness pool continued to grow. He later ascended into heaven from Jerusalem’s Mount of Olives; with a promise from the accompanying angels that He would return. Stephen and Paul later saw Him in special powerful appearances in Heaven.

It’s a fact! Jesus had resurrected “out from among the dead ones” – (ek nekkro)! Easter Sunday had “come dawn”; and we will never be the same – neither will the entire world - because of those events of that week!

These columns are written by Tom Mooty, Pastor of Newport’s West End Baptist Church. Feel free to forward these columns to your friends and family around the world. All comments can be sent to or P.O. Box 851, Newport, TN 37822.

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As published in the Newport (TN) Plain Talk
Release Date – Mar 29, 2012
Column Number - 1213

From time to time in these weekly visits; I have shared one or two of the eight or nine things I learned in my seven years in high school, and the many and varied seminars, conferences, and classes to which I have been privileged to sit in front of some of the greatest sacred and secular teachers when God has placed in my path.

In short; I have leaned some stuff!

I know that it was fun growing up here! It was a hoot knowing the “Third Street Gang”, the “Jones Hill Terrorist”, the “Knob Hill Boys”, and the “Frogpond Freedom Fighters”.

I know that we have had some great people here, regardless of what you may have heard or read. I am happy that the majority of my sacred and secular teachers lived correctly – whether they were in front of me or not. The same thing can be said of several of my classmates; many of whom are still alive and still living correctly still today.

I believe we have had six thousand years of human history since the Garden of Eden; about four thousand of which have expired since the world-wide flood of Noah’s day.

I believe the Bible was inspired of God in its original manuscripts – totally inspired of and by God who was alive then, is alive now, and always will be alive and well! I believe the same God who authored the Scriptures called about forty men from three continents to write His Word over a span of fifteen hundred years; and has also preserved that Word in a reliable translation which we can trust as truth, very truth.

I memorized the verses from the King James Version (1769; not 1611 – oh please!) with “The Bible Ladies” when they came around to our school; recited them to my teachers; and got my free week at Camp in Elizabethton. That Bible was preserved through the sweat, tears, and blood of many martyrs whose only “crime” was to desire a reliable translation in the language of the people.

I believe that the miracles happened and I do have to explain how. God did it and that settles it for me; I need no other explanation. For instance, I believe the Red Sea parted and the people went across on dry ground and when it rushed back in again, the water was deep enough to drown the entire Egyptian army.

I believe the Jordan River likewise parted (at flood stage) and the Israeli went across. I do not need an earthquake or rock slide upriver to explain it; it happened because God spoke it.

I believe the ax head “swam”; although I do not necessarily have to see it doing the “breast stroke”, I do believe that it “floated” at the whim and will of God.

I believe that Jesus The Christ (“Yeshua Ha Meshiach”) allowed Himself to literally be taken, arrested, tried, convicted, beaten, and subsequently crucified for no other reason than to pay for and bring about the forgiveness of my sins and yours. Frankly, if He didn’t want that plan to proceed, all He had to do was snap His fingers, speak a word, pray a prayer, think a thought, or whatever; and He would have been instantly back in His Heavenly Home with The Father. He allowed that entire scenario to happen because that is exactly what He came to do in the first place!

I believe Jesus The Christ was in the borrowed tomb for three days and three nights, or seventy-two hours; and came forth from among the dead ones to show that The Father had accepted His Sacrifice of Himself to take away each and every one of our numerous sins.

I believe Jesus Christ to be the unique begotten Son and sole Savior of the soul of each and every man, woman, young people and old-enough child – no matter where they are found or located. I further believe that He will be returning to get His Children sooner rather than later; and then will return to this earth to establish His Kingdom of one thousand years followed by Eternity.

I know, I know; that’s pretty simplistic; if you can say that about something as complex and complicated as the Salvation proviso for each and every person in the world who has the good sense to accept Him as Savior and receive His Salvation.

Don’t know how? I do, and I will share!

These columns are written by Tom Mooty, Pastor of Newport’s West End Baptist Church. You are invited to forward these posts to friends and family around the world. All comments can be sent to or P.O. Box 851, Newport, TN 37822.

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Friday, March 23, 2012


As published in the Newport (TN) Plain Talk
Release Date – Mar 22, 2012
Column Number - 1212

In my seven wonderful years in high school; I can clearly remember learning …; my razor sharp mind absorbed …; well, let’s see now, there must have been something I assimilated by merely being close to the spout of knowledge.

I am absolutely certain, beyond all shadow of any doubt that I learned …!

Maybe I learned the art of double speak and time killing. I have at least done that for you thus far!

Oh! Oh! I remember now! One thing I learned was that you don’t mess with Mr. Bray’s “bearclaw” leather strap carried menacingly in his back pocket. Oh yeah, do I ever remember that lesson!

I suppose Mr. Bray got up in the morning, did the usual “getting up” stuff; and then began assembling his “uniform”. His “business attire” consisted of white shirt and dark tie and dark suit with pockets bulging with several essentials: e.g., a cash box to “rob” the apple machine down the hall, a record book that cataloged all the excuses that Taburn Lovin and some unnamed others had given him for being late for the day’s learning experience, another record book that contained a TSSAA approved listing of “Stupid Acts and Actions Committed by Secondary Students”, various keys and “principal stuff” – and the “bearclaw”.

Oh yes, don’t forget the bearclaw strap. After all, he never knew what unsavory types he might have to confront in the halls up on “the hill”; and he might just need to take a swipe at them. Funny how the sacrificial victims were always of the masculine persuasion…

Any way, I learned that lesson at some point in my seven years of tribulation.

There were a couple of other things:

I learned that you cannot just plunge a wad of sodium into water and try to catch the by-product (sodium hydroxide – purty nasty stuff) without some dire effects. Of course, the class was dismissed but we still had to clean up the Physics Lab.

I learned that you couldn’t cut Mrs. Burnett’s Science class without her catching you; even for good stuff like a jazz jam session in the band room with other co-conspirators who shall forever remain nameless.

I learned that Miss McMahan had read and memorized each and every page of each and every book that was then, ever had been, and would ever be in the library; and that attempting to pull the wool over her eyes in the oral book reports was, in fact, an exercise in futility.

I learned that Mrs. Kennedy would identify and pull you out of the cafeteria line as a perpetrator that was deserving of Coach Brummitt’s borrowing Mr. Bray’s aforementioned “bearclaw” for the express purpose of the administration of corporal discipline to a certain part of your anatomy because of your complicity in the aforementioned perpetration of stupid acts and actions that were listed in Mr. Bray’s catalog of stupid acts and actions under the category of “Stupid Acts and Actions”.

I also learned that “nature abhors a vacuum”; and that you cannot open a dark room without spilling all the darkness out (and other miscellaneous variations of applications for this general rule).

“Nature abhors a vacuum”; and when you pop the lid on a void, it immediately fills with whatever is there (to put it in plain English).

That has stuck with me; and since I now find myself in my current calling, I have applied that principle over and over.

Whenever truth falters; whenever authenticity stumbles; whenever the Church fails – the false comes rushing in. Being a minister in my home town might have its drawbacks; but it is a real joy to show people who knew me “back then” that knowingly following The Lord Jesus Christ has far more advantages than blindly following the devil – and the retirement benefits are “out of this world”!

That much I have learned!

How about you? Who are you following and to what destination?

These columns are written by Tom Mooty, Senior (Very Senior, actually) Pastor of Newport’s West End Baptist Church; and all comments can be sent to or P.O. Box 851, Newport.

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As published in the Newport (TN) Plain Talk
Release Date – Mar 15, 2012
Column Number - 1211

Unless you have been living in the basement of the custodial cabin at the University of Frogpond; you have probably have heard about the recent “name change” of the Southern Baptist Convention.

Being a very small part of Baptist Press, I have a little “inside information”; and get more than a little upset when people make such a great big mountain out of this little molehill.

Someone was waxing eloquent about this and said that “the Southern Baptists are taking the name “Baptist” out of their name”.

While that is true in many church names; that is simply not true for the Southern Baptist Convention. I think back to some churches who used to be called the “Such and Such Baptist Church”; and now have adopted more “acceptable” names such as “Such and Such Fellowship” or simply “Such and Such Church”; or other equally “user friendly” such names.

Now, don’t get all bent out of shape about this; there might even be a good reason to rename a church. For instance, I heard about a church that was built on the “Little Hope Creek” and was forthwith named “Little Hope Baptist Church”!

Not too swift, if you ask me; but since no one did; well …

In press articles about the recent name change for the Southern Baptist Convention; several statements were made and several facts need noting. The whole idea was simply about removing the word “Southern” from the overall name; because SBC churches in the northern areas run into various arguments in their ministries solely because of the word “southern” in the name.

Clear? Thought so!

Several arguments against the name change were made: “We are identified by that name”. “The name is a “world-wide brand”. “The name identifies a particular theology, morality, and mission-mindedness”. The huge expense in time, energy, and legal of such a name change was also discussed.

The very thought that so many people take the name seriously that they do not wish to attend a “Southern Baptist Church” if they are not from the “south” just lends itself to the idea that the very “name identifies you”! While the name was not officially changed, an addendum was added to be used in “non-southern friendly” areas – “The Great Commission Baptist Convention”.

And that’s the key!

It is true; your name identifies you!

It used to be that the last (given) name actually did identify a person; and a “carpenter” was a carpenter; a “cooper” was a barrel-maker; a “butcher” was a butcher; a “baker” was a baker; “Johnson” was “John’s son”; “Scott” was from Scotland; and so on and on it went. The first (Christian) name was a more personal identifier.

In Bible days, a person was known as “Simon Bar Jonah” (“Simon, son of John”) because that is what he was. Judas Iscariot (“Judas Ish Kerioth”) was a “man from Kerioth”. “Barabbas” was the “son of Abba” or “son of the father” (early tradition says his “first name” was Jesus but for obvious reasons, his first name was dropped to the more familiar “Barabbas”).

What about the name “Jesus The Christ”? “Jesus” is WHO He is; “Christ” is WHAT He is. He is “Yeshua Ha Mashiach” (in Hebrew): “Jesus the Messiah”. That clearly identifies WHO and WHAT He is? In the earlier days, He was also called “Jesus of Nazareth”, since “Jesus” was such a common name in that society (behind Simon, Joseph, Judah, and John).

What about you? Could you be identified by the name you claim (at least on Sunday) – “Christian”?

If you were put on trial for being a Christian; would there be enough evidence against you to convict you?

Or would you have to (as so many people do) change your name on Monday from the one you use on Sunday?

Think about that?

These columns are written by Tom Mooty, Pastor of Newport’s West End Baptist Church; and all comments can be sent to or P.O. Box 851, Newport, TN 37822.

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As published in the Newport (TN) Plain Talk
Release Date – Mar 8, 2012
Column Number - 1210

Unless you have been living on the main island in the middle of Frogpong’s frogpond; you probably have heard about the recent spree of tornados that have wreaked havoc in our midsection.

Big news – big time big news!

Branson, Missouri was hit and hurt by an EF-2 tornado on February 29, 2012. When I heard the word, “Branson”, I (probably like you) immediately thought of the entertainment and amusement centers located there.

One of those entertainers was being interviewed; and he had the gall to make the astounding statement that went something like this (I only heard it once, probably because it was immediately removed from the database of storm coverage): “My fellow performers are all wondering how we will be affected cashwise”.

Say what?

He was probably looking out at copious devastation; and was wondering how he would be affected “cashwise”?????

I was watching the news coverage of the December 26, 2004 South Asian Tsunami on the Indian Ocean; where a couple of tourists were being interviewed; and the guy said with a glint of a tear in his eye that they had “lost everything”.

Now that was sad, don’t you think? But those people had endured massive loss of life, loss of property – they had literally “lost everything” – not just a couple of suitcases and normal stuff that tourists carry on vacation.

I heard an interview with a victim of Category 4 Hurricane “Opal” along the Gulf Coast on October 4, 1995 after he had lost his home. “Yes”, he bravely said, “We have lost everything; but I think we can come again”.

I wanted to shout, “Yes; you can! You can come again! That attitude cannot be broken!

Talk about affected cashwise!

I heard an interview of one of the many City Mayors in Illinois after the recent tornados had flexed its mighty muscles among his citizens; he was asked what was the main thing needed by his town. “The first thing we need is prayer from the nation”.

Can you see some subtle differences in these answers?

One was concerned only about himself “cashwise”. One was totally oblivious to the needs of all others around him. One was showing inner strength and resolve. One was spiritually attuned to his needs for prayer.

Having been misquoted in the press before, having had microphones shoved in my face from way out in left field, having been an “information officer” in a time of high stress, I can certainly sympathize!

I just think we need to be clear when we disseminate information! Please make no mistake about it, I carry press credentials from Baptist Press; but I also carry credentials to tell the wonderful news from God Almighty and I think we ought to make it clear; not sneak up on somebody; not trick anybody; not back door unsuspecting souls.

My news is the “Good News” of Jesus Christ; and I want to make it abundantly clear – up front and personal - that Jesus The Christ is The Way, The Truth, and The Life; and there is “no other way whereby we must be saved” than through Him!

And that is far better than any “cashwise” or “suitcase” concern.

These columns are written by Tom Mooty, Pastor of Newport’s West End Baptist Church; and all comments can be sent to or P.O. Box 851, Newport, TN 37822.

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As published in the Newport (TN) Plain Talk
Release Date – Mar 1, 2012
Column Number - 1209

Unless you have been living under a rock somewhere on the backside of Frogpong’s frogpond; you probably have heard about the recent shooting at the Chardon High School in Chardon, Ohio.

Big news – bigtime!

It even interrupted the latest rounds of gazillions of “newsspeak” words about the latest rounds of gazillions of green ‘Murican dollars my “Gumment” was spending on useless stuff and things. I guess when you have 24/7/365.25 of time to fill; and there are just so many ways the same data can be written and rewritten and rerewritten to tell the same story in a new and different way; you grab what you can and send it out. That used to be called “rip (teletype) and read” in radio; and is now called “view (teleprompter) and speak” in television.

First, it was five students were hurt; then four students were injured; then several scholars were killed; then four were hurt and one was killed; then later, one of the four died; then (while I was researching this info) reports came down that another of the injured students died.

First, it was one shooter; then two shooters; then back to one shooter; then one was apprehended running away; then one was captured by the SWAT team; then one shooter turned himself in; then he was a student; then he was not a student, then he was a student – at another school.

Then he was a student who was bullied by other students; then he was a student at another school who was not bullied; then he was a loner who had several friends, and then, and then, and then.

Whatever! Change the channel and watch the endless reruns of old races while Daytona is rained out! You can come back to Ohio later and hear a completely different story told in a completely different way.

We have all been there: confused and confounded; bothered and bewildered; perplexed and puzzled; dumbfounded and discomfited; flurried and flustered; distracted and disordered; muddled and misplaced; embarrassed and embroiled; disarranged and my all-time favorite – discombobulated!

Yes, we have all been there!

One of the two things I learned in Red Cross Lifesaving Class was that a drowning person can get so disoriented, he/she can actually be upside down, swimming downward while all the while thinking he/she is upside up, swimming upward! That was one thing I learned; I forgot the other thing!

People are confused with so many conflicting reports coming from this news desk and that news desk written by news people who have to get new news first – whether they get it right or not.

Can you say Florida Election in 2000? Can you say hanging, swinging, and/or partial chads?

I say again, people are confused with so many conflicting reports bombarding them from so many different directions.

Take church for instance. Who’s on first and who’s on second; and regardless of who’s on third, where is third anyway? Is there a gap between Genesis 1:1 and 1:2; did the ax head “swim”; when was the flood, and how extensive was it; which “Bethlehem” was the birth place of Jesus; what about all the symbols and figures of Revelation, and by-the-way, how many “revelations” are there; do good works count, is Grace sufficient, is baptism essential, what is “The Lord’s Day”, is Jesus coming again, and by-the-way when (“pre”, “post”, or “pan”)? On and on and on it goes. No wonder so many people are wandering around on the outside wondering: “Is there any hope”, and “Does anybody have the answer”?

I do not claim to have all the answers to all the questions; but I do claim to know The One who does have all the answers to all the questions – and I do believe I can introduce you to Him. His name is Jesus The Christ – the Only Begotten Son of the Only Almighty God!

And He wants to meet you – to be your Friend, to be your Lord and Savior!


These columns are written by Tom Mooty, Pastor of Newport’s West End Baptist Church; and all comments can be sent to or P.O. Box 851, Newport.

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As published in the Newport (TN) Plain Talk
Release Date – Feb 23, 2012
Column Number - 1208

Frog legs! Amphibian appendages!

Whatever you call them; they are considered as somewhat of a delicacy in certain parts of these here United States.

My Uncle Paul was a crack shot when it came to small fuzzy wuzzies of the four-legged persuasion; or small feathered figures of the winged variety. He had several weapons that would land him in Gitmo today; but were legal and normal back then. I remember his scopes that could have been used by NASA to track their spacecraft, perched on top of rifles that Seal Team Six would develop chills down their leg to own.

He would have loved to have lived 6000 years ago and drawing a bead on one of the abundant dinosaurs (yeah, I know you heard all about the millions and millions of years and the “gaps” in the fossil records) – if, and only if he could somehow have transported his arsenal to Glen Springs, Texas.

So he was content on scoping out groundhogs hogging the ground, whistle pigs whistling while they worked, wood chucks chucking wood, squirrels and mice and assorted forms of rodents, marmosets, quail, ducks, geese, opossums and possums (the latter is found only in East Tennessee; the former is everywhere else). They didn’t have a chance when Paul drew a bead. If I am not too misinformed, Spring City, Tennessee is still rodent free because of Uncle Paul and “Joe’s Ammunition and Salami Shop”.

But I never heard Paul tell a story about frog giggin.

I guess that was because frog gigging is up close and personal and Paul preferred to knock their lights out from a football field away.

It is not a very big secret that yours truly was raised on the outskirts of Frogpond, on the environs of Eastport, a suburb of Newport.

And yes, they was frogs in that there pond.

Freddy (The Big Ugly) ventured into the wild and wooly world of frog giggin’ on several occasions; and pulled at least half of his friends (that would be two) into this adventure.

I heard a lot of stories about the experiences; but I never saw any evidence. I don’t remember “The Big Ugly” bringing any frog laigs home to Josephine Celeste’s big old South Pittsburg black iron skillet.

I mean Paul would bring home the bacon or whatever the choice cuts of rabbit are called; but Freddie and friends: not so much.

Just as well; because I’m not so sure I would have consumed any part of a frog anyway. I mean, I did not want to get warts on the outside, much less on the inside! Toad, frog; you say tomato, tomahto, I say “mater”.

And now I know why Freddie and friends never scored a web footed trophy! They were not doing it right! Champion frog giggers know that you have to get down and dirty if you want to watch the legs jumping in the pan. You have to get in with em; feel the mud oozing between your toes; step on the salamanders, slip on the lizards and gizzards and gila monsters; be like Mike and get dirty.

And Freddie didn’t like to get his white tennis (or elevenies) dirty!

But, do it right, and you might – just might end up with a slimy, cold blooded, skin breathing, tail-less amphibian on the three tines of your gig; or better yet, if you line them up just right and hold your mouth just right - three slimy, cold blooded, skin breathing, tail-less amphibians on one tine of your gig. Admittedly, that is somewhat difficult to do – only Lester Starnes has ever accomplished that in the six thousand years sum total of the history of mankind. Lester is a frog whisperer; I’m not sure you knew that!

So there is a right way and a wrong way to gig frogs; a real way and a faux way – and you cannot do any good by trying to do it the wrong way.

Kinda like trying to get to heaven, you know. There are many multitudes of wrong ways to try; and many multitudes trying the multitudes of wrong ways; but there is only one correct way – through Jesus Christ!

These columns are written by Tom Mooty, Pastor of Newport’s West End Baptist Church; all comments can be sent to or P.O. Box 851, Newport.

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As published in the Newport (TN) Plain Talk
Release Date – Feb 16, 2012
Column Number - 1207

Unless you have been living under a rock somewhere on the back side of Frogpond, Tennessee; you have heard about my critters.

Well, actually, they are not mine, per se; they belong to the entire neighborhood (or so they have been led to believe); but they do inhabit the northern regions of the oaks on which “Miss ‘Nita” and I pay the taxes.

They should appreciate us more!

I try to keep their water supply fresh and ample; but sometimes, things happen, you know; and I don’t “git ‘r done” as rapidly as they seem to think I should.

So; (that is called deep background in the journalism business) I was out at the spigot recently to charge up the hose to fill up their fountain; and a little guy was up in the gnarly old dogwood looking down at me doing good work – and fussing at me!

There I was, minding his business, doing his thing, performing his patronage, accommodating his accommodation, furthering his furtherance, achieving his assistance, looking after his largesse, and he has the unmitigated gall to fuss at me (and probably cuss at me) for not doing it right, or fast enough, or whatever his little brain told him was incorrect.

He was all alone up there – that little guy. Obviously, he was one of the new kids on the block; or he would have known that I was one of the few friendlies left in his future.

He will learn! He better; or his ultimate demise will come sooner rather than later! They tell me that dying of thirst is extremely painful! How do you like them apples, little guy?

Did you ever get fussed at for doing good stuff? I am not asking if you ever get fussed at for doing bad stuff – that is a foregone conclusion – as well you should. I remember at least one time when Fred Marvin and Josephine Celeste fussed at me for doing bad (I think there may have been one other time, but memory fades, you know).

But I do vividly recollect many multitudinous occurrences when Freddy (“The Big Ugly”) and Bobby (“The Music Man”) got fussed at for horrible acts of manifest evil. Many of them! Yep, that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

No; what I mean is getting fussed at for doing good stuff. Sometimes, misunderstandings happen and the referee sees the second blow and not the first one that started it all. Sometimes, the teacher sees you and not little Johnny being – well, little Johnny – and you get the trip to the principal’s office. These things happen; but what does the Bible means when it says:

“Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you” (Matthew 5:10-12).

My dear Christian friend, this world is not your home; you’re just passing through; and sometimes you rub the fur and ruffle the feathers the wrong way. Sometimes, you feel like “Mr. Woody Ross” in Jonesville, South Carolina’s speed trap with “Officer Barney Fife” standing outside your driver’s side window with his ticket book needing one more entry to make quota (names changed to protect the guilty).

I think the verses are self-explanatory! Sometimes, you get fussed at for doing what is right because “everybody else” is doing wrong. Just be glad you are being fussed at for doing RIGHT – and be assured that God knows all and remembers all!

Kids have enormous peer pressure to get away with as much as principals, police, parents, preachers, and other authority figures cannot possibly see.

Employees have enormous pressure to slack off and get by with bare bones minimum while demanding more pay and benefits.

Even Christians have these pressures! But please remember, when we (who know the truth about God and His Grace and Mercy) slack off and quit telling people that the “bridge is out”, eternity can be in the balance for that next person! Think of that! Eternity! Think of a never ending, perpetual, continual, endless, infinite future without God and no hope of ever having His forgiveness; because – well - because we got tired of getting fussed at for doing right!

These columns are written by Tom Mooty, Pastor of Newport’s West End Baptist Church; all comments can be sent to or P.O. Box 851, Newport.

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Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Who Got Lucy's Half of the Pie?"


As Published in the Newport (TN) Plain Talk
Release Date – Feb 2, 2012
Column Number - 1205


My older brother, Freddy (“The Big Ugly”) is a little bit weird – well, a lotta bit weird, actually; but we won’t go there. Please forget I said that.

Anyway, he was in the eighth grade when Fred Marvin and Josephine Celeste decided to yank us out of our roots, load up the Studebaker, and move to Frogpond, a suburb of Eastport, a suburb of Newport.

Some of his weirdness (oops, I said it again) is found in the fact that he was always a bit backwards in the friend-making category. I mean, it took him eight years to make one friend, and he really didn’t want to leave that one friend; and so, he stayed behind with my Aunt Frank and Uncle Paul. (Yes, I said, “Aunt Frank”. Don’t ask!)

Oh, ok, since you asked: Mom’s family had four girls who were named “Tootle”, “Jo”, “Frank”, and “Bill”. A brother, Alvin Thomas (for whom I am named) came along in the pecking order at some point in time; but I always thought that having an “Aunt Frank” and “Aunt Bill” was really surreal (before I even knew what “surreal” meant. I just liked using that word).

Anyway, Freddy stayed behind with Frank and Paul until he graduated and then Fred Marvin and Josephine Celeste went to get him, and drug him kicking and screaming up the two lane behind the aforementioned Studebaker.

Did I mention that “Big Ugly” had a problem making friends because he was so backwards?

Well, one friend he made (two actually) were twins, Wiley and Lucy Morgan, who lived over on Woodlawn. Since Freddy is so very much older than I, that must mean that Wylie and Lucy are --- well, you know.

There was no cafeteria at Newport Grammar until 1950; so we poor unfortunate, lunch deprived students had to fend for ourselves in the necessary daily intake of calorie-laden nourishment. I mean, Josephine Celeste’s mater sammiges were really good, what with all the mayo slathered on both sides; but, as the poet said (or should have said), “Into every life some soup beans must come”.

Seems that Lucy and Wiley just lived right over across that big rocky crevasse that separated their house from the school; and little Wiley wanted to go home to mama’s home cooking.

There was a homemade pie on the window ledge (remember when they used to do that); and Wiley was famished from cramming so much learning into his cranial cavity; so he took out his pocket knife, wiped off all the dirt, fingernail crust, and toenail jam; and proceeded to cut that pie in half and started munching as he sauntered back to the salt mines.

The only problem was that he ran out of pie before he ran out of path; so, he made the decision to do the only manly option open to him and turned around to go back and get the other half of the pie (Lucy’s half?). This time he was ‘bout purt near out of time; and had to put the pedal to the medal to make it back in time.

To this date, Lucy doesn’t know who got her half of the pie; and, since this information was shared with in the strictest confidence, I for one will never tell; but that doesn’t mean you can’t.

Now, you see, you would never have known that such a nefarious, pie-swiping character was living in our midst if it were not for me!

Ok! That’s enough of that since my friend Wiley has long since been forgiven from such a heinous act of atrociousness (and all his other sins) by acceptance of the shed blood of Jesus Christ; but I cannot help but wonder if maybe at least one of you, my dear readers, might still have sins clinging to you like tenacious barnacles on a stagnant boat bottom.

There is one answer; and only one! His Name is Jesus The Christ; and He is ready, willing, and available to wash you clean of your sins and put your feet on the Rock; and take you to heaven when you die, or He returns (whichever comes first).

Don’t know how to make that transaction? I do! Wiley does! And we will surely share!

These columns are written by Tom Mooty, Pastor of Newport’s West End Baptist Church; and can also be found on the church website: All comments can be sent to or P.O. Box 851, Newport.

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"Tebowing in Everyday Life"


As Published in the Newport (TN) Plain Talk
Release Date – Jan 26, 2012
Column Number - 1204


I usually try to follow the leadership of the Lord in planning my sermon “menus” well in advance; knowing that nothing ever catches the Lord off guard; and if something comes up at the “last minute” that I might have to deal with; I have all assurance that God knew all about that in the “first minute”, and if I am supposed to deal with it, He already has it covered. That way, I do not have to spend desperate Saturday nights working on a “Saturday Night Special” sermon; because every word, every phrase, every nuance is of utmost importance and could very well mean gaining or losing eternity in heaven for someone!

And eternity is a loooonnnnnnggggg time; and I take that position very seriously!

The same thing should be said about these little column excursions into seeming utter chaos which you are new reading. I assure you, I have a point in mind; and if you hang in through all the fluff at the first, you will see the point paragraph at the last.

For the past three weeks, I have brought messages on Sunday mornings on the general titles of “Knowing Jesus”, “Showing Jesus”, and “Going For Jesus”; and this Sunday, we will compile all these thoughts together in one big wad with ”Tebowing Jesus”!

Simply speaking, if you “know” Jesus Christ, you will quite naturally “show” Him by “going” for Him – in the style and on the stage God gives you.

Some Christians have extremely huge “pulpits” or “platforms” from which to expound on “knowing, showing, and going” Jesus Christ.

While I must say, I do not agree with many of the huge media “ministries”; there are a few that provide a very useful place of “knowing, showing, and going” for Jesus Christ. It must be said these massive ministries can have enormous circles of outreach (but sadly, many of them have deteriorated into worldly, secular seed beds of “seed money” and “show business”)!

Many original colleges and universities in the United States were started as outreaches of religious ministries to provide Bible training (sadly, many of them have deteriorated into worldly, secular seed beds of unrest and disbelief).

Many original hospitals and clinics in the United States were started as outreaches of religious ministries to provide healing to the masses (sadly, many of them have deteriorated into worldly, secular seed beds of political correctness).

Great publication empires have been started by religious ministries to provide reading materials to advance the cause the Christian Ministry (sadly, many of them have deteriorated into worldly, secular seed beds of watered-down, non-offensive pablum).

Everyone knows about young Dwight Lyman, who was struggling to eke out a living working as a shoe cobbler. He was uneducated and destined to become nothing more than a statistic until the mostly illiterate seventeen year old was led to the Lord by his Sunday School teacher, Edward Kimball; and founded the Moody Colportage (“publishing”) Company; Moody Bible Institute, Moody Memorial Church, and the Moody Evangelistic Association. Of course, his full name was D.L. Moody!

We all have “pulpits” from which we are to “know, show, and go” for Jesus Christ! Mine is not the same as yours and vice-versa; yours might be larger than mine and vice-versa; but we all have someone who needs to hear the message of Jesus The Christ!

Quarterback Tim Tebow of the Denver Broncos has a massive, world-changing “pulpit”: not a church, column, or broadcast – no, he has a football field; and his simple act of kneeling to thank the Lord Jesus for His blessings has caused millions of people to at least give a second look at The Lord – because they can see something that is real and unique in this young man’s life.

Thus, a new word has emerged on the scene: “Tebowing”; and its originator didn’t even graduate from “preaching school”. Imagine that!

These columns are written by Tom Mooty, Pastor of Newport’s West End Baptist Church; and can also be found on the church website: All comments can be sent to or P.O. Box 851, Newport.

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