Anyone who has known me, know I love sharing stories of events I’ve experienced or of stories that I pass on that were shared to me. Within the stories are not just the words. These stories are lives lived which impact me deeply. They were the ones who did something grand or was really helpful but they were never the notable person, the star, the famed hero. They were just someone who simply was obedient, faithful, or helpful even if all they could do was their one part and then the scene fades them away.
When we roll back the movie film on the screen to see the key players of the Bible, we see Abraham, Joseph, Moses, Aaron, David, Elijah, and a number of others. Down the list we get to the gaffers, caterers, makeup, etc. This is usually (if we haven’t done it already) where we part from our seats or closed the screen on our device. But every one of those people—specifically the support people—made that film what it became regardless of who starred and any big names attributed to it.
In Exodus 17 we see Joshua, Moses, Aaron, and a host of other men fighting an important and turning point battle. And then we see an unknown who comes to the scene in verse 12. A man by the name of Hur. We see this encounter and he got recognized for being one of the three men on top of that mountain. But as the Bible continues to go on, we see all the major cast continue but Hur literally fades back to the background. So who was this Hur? “According to Rabbinic tradition, Hur was the son of Miriam, thus Moses and Aaron’s nephew” (Wikipedia). And outside of debatable genealogies, nothing else is known about Hur ever again.
But I wish to lift a couple of things. First is simply my personal recognition. When we go to church, help with a church outreach, attend a Bible conference, we recognize certain names. Whether because of time/longevity, because they preach often, or because they are known for a particular church or exercise a spirit gift, they get credit or recognition. They are known. I don’t minimize nor cast an envious eye toward them as if I can diminish what they do/did through God. But I would like to lift up the no names such as Hur, the men who let Saul down in a basket over the wall, and a list of others who got their name or what they did mentioned once. They were involved. Without them, there never would had been a victory or a continuing story of others who were impacted because of the unknown. Who are our unknowns? They are the faithful brother and sister who dutifully go to morning prayer not because they have to (to be seen by their pastor or leader or because they are in ministry and they have to go) but because they simply want to talk to God, who lift up the hands of Pastor Joe Campbell, Pastor Greg Mitchell, Pastor Richard Rubi, and a host of others in and outside of our Fellowship. You may have your own list of notable men of God. These “Hur” just position themselves before God for their service. Or maybe it is them in nursery. Or maybe it is them cleaning the church. Or maybe it is them in the sound room. Or it is someone running a travel and passport agency which helps those preachers to get to cities and nations that perhaps would had been much more difficult to get to with traveling and travel arrangements made by themselves. I’ve been privileged to had preached numerous times, led numerous Bible studies, loved teaching the new-believer’s class, and have led more outreaches than I could possibly count in addition to all the other things the Lord has blessed me opportunity to help too numerous to count. I, however, will say that I can be replaced by anyone in those leadership positions I’ve had. None of those events and sermons mean anything without an army of “Hur” people—the moms and dads, the single person, the elderly or infirmed—who lift up that leader in prayer, who make the sandwiches for the church event and then clean the floors after a hot and long day outreaching, and/or financially supporting that ministry. I wish to take this further to say and I will try to be as careful, considerate, respectful, and compassionate as I can due to a recent event. What about the ones who want to be appreciated and valued for them being a saved person by the grace of God and not only appreciated because they create the PowerPoint, the church’s mechanic, or deputized take care of the little ones while a couple goes on a date or out of town, etc. These also are the Hurs in our congregations who do what they do. Their ear is what they offer. That when someone needs prayer, they are the ones who truly do and will pray. They may not have flames coming from their hands nor are they the ones on the platform praying for the sick, but they are the Hurs who have as much passion for Jesus and whose words open the doors of heaven to respond to a need.
Then, secondly, there is something else about Hur. The following is also from Wikipedia. “In Talmudic tradition the sudden disappearance of Hur from the narrative of Exodus is explained by the claim that Hur was killed when he tried to prevent the making of the Golden Calf. The murder of Hur intimidated Aaron into complying with the popular demand to create the idol. Hur’s faithfulness was rewarded by God by granting his grandson the role of make the Tabernacle.” I want us to consider the Hurs in our churches and what happens after they leave the sacred walls of the church. Daily decisions, stands taken, obedience recognized by God of an individual who later God uses their descendant as the key person for making the tabernacle. Dad and mom, your Hur lifestyles are preparing downstream doors for your children and perhaps grandchildren to walk through. Your faithfulness even in the unknown and obscure, to be there because “this is what I do” prepares blessings that others never have to taste the plate of hardship. Dad and mom, your Hur lifestyle and choices are to be applauded as loudly as we applaud the preacher who assumes the pulpit or the name that goes on the flyer.
I’d like to lift up a man whom I recall at an outreach many years ago. It was hot. We scattered from our air-conditioned vehicles like quail hitting every door at a trailer park to share Jesus. This guy instead witnessed to only one person who the Christian immediately saw when he got out from his vehicle. After we finished outreaching that neighborhood, there was this brother still attempting to fix this man’s vehicle. This brother had grease and oil stains up and down his arms, grease on his shirt, and sweat dripping from his face. At that outreach moment many years ago, I felt like scolding him for not outreaching or delaying us to go to the next neighborhood because he should had been “Jesus” knocking on the doors like we were and ready to leave to the next place. Looking back on that event recently and especially if Jesus were here on earth again in He were at that place and time, I believe that Jesus would had a wrench in his back pocket and grease on His arms to help that man fix his truck. This was not a brother of name—title, position, name on a flyer, an attention getter—this was a brother being Jesus for this man who had a need. He took time for someone, like Jesus did multiple times. I do not deny or minimize the importance and benefit for advertising or invitation. But I wonder which was more fruitful? Was it us racing to doors to clear out a stack of flyers and perhaps collect names? Or was it his man who appreciated a Christian working on his vehicle. Because someone served from their heart and never asked or expected anything in return, what became of that man who had the broke-down vehicle? Did this man become a pastor? Did he at least give his life to Jesus and stayed saved? The Lord knows. But the bigger question is: who will be Hur in our churches, amongst our friends who need a friend, and in our communities to lift up those hands of others?