“One word of truth outweighs the world.” -Alexander SolzhenitsynThe world is telling him to shut up.The world is telling him to get his religion out of its face. The world is telling him to keep the “proselytizing” and “propaganda” to himself. The world is telling him that faith should be a private matter, that encroaching on nonbelievers is untoward, judgmental even. The world is telling him that the the statute of limitations has run on the teachings of the man who was long ago brutally tacked to that lumber killing device on an obscure hill in the corner of Jerusalem. The world is telling him to save the theatrics and the Gospel show for the sanctuary…John Chaney isn’t listening.John Chaney, by modern standards, would be considered a zealot, a sold-out Christian whose constant aim in life is to serve Christ by pulling as many people out of this world as he can, by ministering to a small flock and investing in their lives, and teaching them to be leaders, to be men. John Chaney is evidence of how God takes crumbling lives and restores them. John Chaney, two thousand years ago, would be considered a disciple, walking in the dust of the rabbi Jesus.ZZZZZZbbbb!!!ZZZZZZZbbb!!Zbzbzbzbbz!! When Chaney was just a teenager, he used to ride up and down Finley Avenue, slinging copies of The Birmingham News from his Suzuki he bought when he was sixteen. His nickname was “Dooney” and his paper route served 300 customers.Dooney was a daredevil of sorts, and would often impress onlookers by popping wheelies or performing spinouts and jumps, to everyone’s amazement.“I was sort of like Evil Knievel,” Dooney, now Pastor John Chaney, admits.Dooney would ride over to the strip pits near Daniel Payne drive, or to Tarrant for an afternoon, and while he enjoyed the thrill, mostly he found solace in the road.Forty years later, Dooney is still on a bike, but his “recklessness” has transferred from daredevil tricks to discipleship. He’s traded in his Suzuki for a Specialized bicycle, and often searches for ways to witness as he bikes throughout Jefferson County. His routes include Railroad Park and Lynn Park, where he testifies.Chaney admits that he often goes in businesses just so he can crack a spiritual door to spread the word of Jesus Christ. “I’ll ask for directions,” Chaney says. “I’ll say, ‘How do you get to so-and-so from here?’ After they give me the diagnostics, I’ll say,’ How do you get to heaven from here?’”Some might think Chaney is a kook (and some do), but Chaney believes He is called by God to be an ambassador for His word. He takes seriously the command by Jesus to “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19).Not all efforts have been welcome.“People have said, ‘Get outta my face!’” Chaney admits. “Or they’ve cussed me out completely. But I try to be sensitive. If I get bad feedback, I’ll leave it alone. I just want to share the Good News of Jesus.”Looking back on Chaney’s life, one will not see perfection or sainthood, or much in his past to qualify him for such endeavors. As a young kid, Chaney watched his alcoholic father duck into various shothouses and drink himself into oblivion before coming home to abuse his mother. As a young adult, Chaney himself used to knock the heads off of parking meters to steal money. As an adult, Chaney struggled with alcohol, smoked pot, and became an adulterer.(Even after years of abuse and sickness, Chaney’s mom was able to help his father come to know a new life in Christ.)Chaney met his first wife shortly before graduating high school. They were married and soon had two children in tow. Things rocked along for a while but the marriage eventually turned tumultuous. Chaney now freely admits to his infidelity and says “you can’t get healed if you don’t uncover.”When he and his wife divorced thirty years ago, Chaney says that instead of diving deeper into the bottle, he got inside the Bible to “discover the real Jesus.” He was single for eight years before he met his current wife, Anita. And in 1999, God called John and all his imperfections to the pulpit.“The Lord began dealing with me sixteen years ago,” Chaney says. “He called me to rebuild a church that was lying in ruins.”So for the last decade-and-a-half, Chaney has been pastoring a small congregation in Tarrant called Ebenezer Missionary Baptist Church, where the display board inside reads Today’s Attendance: 42. It is a small, wood-frame church just off of Highway 79, across from a row of sagging houses with NO TRESSPASSING signs and imploded roofs. The front façade of the church is doused in a beautiful burnt umber, but the only color on the side of the church is displayed by the stained glass windows resembling a blue-and-green tie-dye t-shirt.At Ebenezer, besides his main sermonic duties, Chaney shepherds men to that odd, elusive province known as “manhood,” hoping to raise leaders along the way who demonstrate decent social behavior.“We have a brotherhood meeting every second Sunday,” Chaney says. “We talk about discipleship. About having a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. We want to learn and memorize scripture, because it helps us to resist sin.”This is accomplished largely through Bible studies and small groups, but Chaney also hosts youth cookouts and arranges yearly deep sea fishing trips. Chaney cautions the younger eaglets to watch who they’re hanging around with: “you can’t soar with the eagles if you’re hanging with the buzzards.”During the day, Chaney works as a cabinetmaker for the city of Birmingham and lives in Forestdale. From time to time, he bikes to work, navigating Highway 78 and the streets of downtown Birmingham before arriving at his workplace promptly at 6 a.m.Chaney says his father introduced him to carpentry at a young age, and when he wasn’t liquored up, would teach John how to separate lumber and save nails from old abandoned houses. Chaney would have probably given up the gift of carpentry if a teacher at Glenn High School, Mr. Calvin Harrison (affectionately known as “Captain”), had not encouraged him to pursue his talent.“That gave me a desire to work with wood,” Chaney says.Chaney’s working life began at Rime Construction in 1975. For years, he worked for several contractors and brick masons before hooking up with the city of Birmingham. Chaney also used his carpentry skills to build a wooden cross, tithe box, and podium for the church.John and Anita eventually had children of their own (John III and Joshua) and John says that Christ has helped him to get it right the second time. Now, he dotes on his family and extended family (producing an album of him and his grandchildren in white-button downs and jeans).But it hasn’t been all dancing for John on his second try at life. John has battled several health issues, including obesity, high blood pressure, and high cholesterol. Weighing 260 pounds at one point, John decided to participate in a 12-week nutrition class offered by UAB. He finished second in overall weight loss, spurring a lifestyle change and a return to the bicycle.But the problems didn’t stop there. Several years ago, Chaney was diagnosed with prostate cancer after he was tested by his urologist.“It shook me,” he says. “It tested my faith. But I heard God say, ‘Now you have to stand and defeat what you are facing.'”He did. Chaney had robotic surgery to excise the tumor, and is now cancer-free.It didn’t stop there, either. Another test of faith arrived when Chaney’s granddaughter, Ailynn, was diagnosed with leukemia shortly before she turned 1. Now Ailynn is 4 years old, healthy and happy.Being a cancer survivor has inspired him to bike more than ever. He’s participated in several events to raise money for various causes: Bo Bikes Bama, Tour de Cure for the American Diabetes Association, Tour de Blue for prostate cancer, and the Selma to Montgomery bike ride.So now, instead of slinging The Birmingham News from his motorcycle, the 59-year-old Chaney is slinging The Good News of the Gospel (he stresses the red typeface) from his bike. Whether or not customers are willing to subscribe, Chaney is careful not to press or be overly intrusive. But he makes sure that he at least offers. He surmises that by knocking on doors, eventually one will open. And they have.Chaney realizes that he is not peddling sunglasses like some pesky kiosk worker in the mall. He is not trying to pester people or disrupt their lives. He is offering the free gift of eternal life, and asking nothing in return. Some might bristle at his “salesmanship,” but others who take time to listen are eternally grateful.Every Sunday, as church members descend the steps of 116-year-old Ebenezer Missionary Baptist, they read the inscription on the back of the marquee. It says “Now Go and Spread the Gospel.” Chaney and others take this commission very seriously.Chaney was called to save this church in ruins. But Chaney will tell you that God’s mission is even greater than that. Chaney was called to help save lives in ruins.Which issues a challenge to all believers. Do we shut up because the world is telling us to do so, or should we heed the words of the Psalmist: “Declare his glory among the nations, His wonders among all peoples”?Love for others, for the Christian, should mean an invitation to share in the richness, glory, and Kingdom Life that Christ freely offers to anyone who will receive. He is indiscriminate in his offer, and has charged us with the exceptional role of courier in this noble effort. But as Jesus predicted, “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few.”The world is telling us to shut up.Have we? 78