Remembering My Mentor: Dr. Mark Corts

I received word last evening that Dr. Mark Corts, Pastor Emeritus of Calvary Baptist Church, Winston-Salem, NC, died after suffering for many years with numerous health problems.

My earliest memories of Dr. Mark Corts were seeing his face on television. I grew up in Winston-Salem, and I was an atheist. But I was always interested in powerful and persuasive public speakers, so every now and then, I would stop the remote and listen to Corts on the Calvary broadcast. He preached with authority, and though I didn't believe a word of what he was saying at that time, there was no doubt in my mind that he believed it, and so did that big crowd of folks listening to him. Every now and then they would cut to the congregation and there would be someone with their Bible in their lap, even taking notes! Well, I could never watch it long, because I did not want to find myself taken in by a preacher's rhetoric. I recall in 1992 how the local news devoted so much attention to the heart attack he suffered while in St. Louis at a meeting. I recall being somehow touched by the way his church and community rallied around him during that time.

The Lord attacked my heart in 1992, but not in cardiac arrest; it was in regeneration. I was saved at Fort Caswell, The NC Baptist Assembly at Oak Island, NC. I became a member of the church I was with at Caswell, and loved all the people there. In the next few years I began to feel called to ministry, so I set out for Fruitland Bible Institute. One of the former staff pastors at the church I attended pulled me aside and warned me that "those people up in the mountains will try to brainwash" me. Well, I don't know if I would call it brainwashing. They just began to teach me how to understand and apply the Bible. It was not long before that little church called a new pastor, and I met with him, and determined that his neoorthodoxy was not compatible with what I understood the Bible to teach. So with much heaviness in my heart, Donia and I pulled away to find a new church.

We began to ask other Christians where they attended, and without exception, every on-fire Christian we knew or met attended Calvary Baptist Church. And when we asked them what the best thing about the church was, they said almost unanimously that it was the preaching. Every Sunday morning Dr. Corts would preach messages that dealt expositionally with real theology and living a holy life. His style was so unique and so powerful, I am not even sure how to describe it. One staff member said he preached topoxposigetically (and there was always an illustration about food). Every Sunday evening, Dr. Gary Chapman (of Five Love Languages fame) would preach expository sermons through books of the Bible. He is a great preacher as well.

Donia and I did not want to attend a big church. We had no real reason, we just didn't want to get lost in the crowd. But we did want to peek in on what was going on over at Calvary, so we said, "Let's go for one Sunday." We never attended a different church after that. About six Sundays later we made Calvary home and began looking for ways to get involved. It was not long after that when I was offered the opportunity to serve as an intern on the staff. I have always assumed that it was because of his fondness for Fruitland that Dr. Corts took special interest in me as an intern. He asked me to drive him to meetings, and always wanted me in the meeting, and would ask for my input. When the staff was unable to fill the pulpit on a Wednesday night, he looked at me and said, "You ready to preach?" That was Wednesday, 3pm. By 6, I was ready. I didn't want to let him down. He also let me sit in on his Tarheel Leadership seminars and glean from the mentoring he was giving to small church pastors from around the state.

In 1998 I was ordained at Calvary after being called to my first church ministry. Dr. Corts' health did not allow him to sit in for my ordination council, but he committed to me that he would conduct the service. When that day came, I expressed my excitement to a staff member, who responded by saying, "Well, it might get cancelled. Dr. Corts just got a call before the morning service that his brother died." I went to Dr. Corts and said, "Pastor, if we need to put this off, I understand. Your family needs you." He said, "No Russ, we won't put it off. This is a special day and we are going to have the service."

That June, when the SBC met in Salt Lake City, I was at my wit's end. Disillusionment abounded as the idyllic life of the pastor that had existed in my mind was a stark contrast with the reality I experienced in my first six months experience. So I called Mark Corts. "Have breakfast with Shirley and I at our hotel, and let's talk about it." So we did. And in this corner and that corner of the room, the SBC big-wigs were grouped together strategizing and politicing. Mark Corts was spending his morning with a young and ignorant preacher, being my pastor. And anytime they were at the SBC, we would see them, sometimes it was just in passing and other times for longer amounts of time, but God always used them to encourage us.

Situations would come up as I pastored that first church, and I wouldn't know what to do. So we devised a system. I would email Dr. Corts' secretary, she would print it for him. He would think it over, and then I would get a call, "Pastor Reaves, ... this is Mark Corts." And we would talk it out. He always shed light on the situation from angles I never considered.

If I were to list all the lessons I learned from Mark Corts, I would have to take a month of sabbatical just to list them all. Maybe I can start a weekly feature in which I take one at a time until Jesus comes. But in addition to all the great lessons I learned from him, two of my deepest regrets in ministry relate to Dr. Corts. He extended an open invitation to me to arrange a day when we could go book shopping together, and a day when we could study together in preparation for a sermon. Out of concern for his health, I never took him up on it. One thing I know -- his invitation was real and if I had called, he'd have done it.

In 1999, Dr. Corts was preaching at the SBC pastors' conference. Just before he spoke there was a tap on my shoulder, and a familiar and distinguished voice said, "Friend is this seat taken?" It was Dr. Adrian Rogers. He sat down, we made introductions, and he said, "I had to come find a seat to hear Mark Corts. I love that man. He is such a man of God." I said, "I love him too. He is my pastor." Dr. Rogers looked at me, as if he were sizing me up, glancing up and down, head-to-toe, and said, "Well, if he's your pastor, what happened to you?" I know he was just joking, but I have asked myself the same question many times. God granted me a great privilege to be mentored for ministry by the man I think was the greatest pastor ever (biased opinion -- guilty as charged). Every time I succeed at anything in ministry, I owe it to the grace of God and the influence of Mark Corts. But every time I fail, and trust me -- that's very often, I hear the voice of Adrian Rogers saying, "Well, if he's your pastor, what happened to you?" Good question. No excuse, no answer. Just depravity.

There is a new generation of revered pastors in Baptist life. One was just in a scandal in Florida, another in Texas, another not too long ago in Tulsa. Denominational leaders are having their integrity questioned with increasing frequency. And the last of a generation of giants are slowly graduating to glory. A tear comes to my eye when I think of that conference in 1999. Corts in the pulpit, Rogers by my side. Now both are gone. This was the generation that led our convention to the place it is today. Where will the current leaders take it? Will any of them come through the crucible of scrutiny as gold? And what of my generation? The subject of "young leaders" is hot in SBC life today. But to whom shall we look for models? And brothers, we need models. God didn't begin a brand new thing with us. We are marching in a line that stretches back for centuries. We need to glean from those who have walked before us. But many who have walked before has have tripped and fallen. There are certainly plenty of lessons for us to learn in their failures, but the positive role models are fading away from this scene, being received in glory and rewarded for their faithful service.