P.O. Box 53055    
Los Angeles, CA 90053   

Hello, everyone, and welcome to what I confess is probably the hardest week of radio programs we've done in a long, long time here on the Voice of Prophecy. Certainly since I joined the team. But last Tuesday morning, at about 2:00 a.m., our own beloved Harold Richards, Jr. went to his rest in Jesus. I'm here in the studio on Wednesday, the 12th, with a lot of Fed Ex envelopes outside our door, waiting to get this message to the station you're listening to right now.

Some of you listening today probably never heard Harold Richards, or
H. M. S.", as a lot of friends called him, here on the radio. He retired back in 1992, and in recent years his brother Ken served as announcer more than Harold did. Bad health really hit Brother Harold hard these past few years, and there haven't been nearly as many opportunities to work together as any of us would have liked. Still, he was a great leader and mentor, and I'm in a bit of shock as we try to organize our thoughts and pick up our spiritual backpacks and carry on with this journey Harold's father, H. M. S. Richards, Sr., started us on way back in 1929.

Like I said, some of you listeners probably never heard the voice of Harold on this program . . . although he sounded so much like Ken, with that beautiful Richards "timbre" to the voice, that we sometimes couldn't tell the difference. On the other hand, many, many of you out there have heard Brother Harold on the airwaves for decades. You grew up with him. Maybe some of you signed up for Voice of Prophecy Bible lessons, and saw his signature on the welcome letter, rejoicing that you had made a decision to seek Jesus Christ through that Bible correspondence course. Some of you heard him at camp meeting -- and of course, that was ALWAYS a memorable thing. "Pastor Richards in the main tent" -- that was an announcement that always caused a stampede, a scramble for the best chairs right up close to the platform. Believe me, I listened awestruck as well, as he took such simple illustrations and made Bible truths come to life through them.

Of course, his dad was the same way. I love that story in Bob Edwards' biography about "The Chief," where Harold's dad once said: "Jesus said, 'Feed My sheep,' not 'Feed My giraffes.' I believe in putting the cookies on the lower shelf where even a child can get them." Well, the Richards' family has treated a listening world to a lot of cookies -- spiritual cookies, that is. And now that great voice has been stilled.

So I want to say to all of you, especially, who knew Pastor Richards, and heard him, and loved him: "Let's praise God right now. Even in this week of shadows, let's praise the God that Harold Richards praised. Even in the aftermath of that huge memorial service, the standing-room-only funeral last Sunday at Loma Linda University Church, let's have thankful hearts and praise God for the gift He gave us in the life and ministry of Harold Richards."

You know, the Word of God talks about the death of godly men and women. In Bible times, the legendary heroes died too. Even when Jesus walked the earth, His friends would pass away. Jesus attended funerals. Sometimes He interrupted them with a miracle, and sometimes the funerals went forward right to the benediction prayer. But in the book of Psalms, the 116th chapter, I find a verse that gives all of us in the worldwide Voice of Prophecy family comfort and courage right now. Here it is:

"Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints."

Now, what did the Psalmist David mean by that? It's hard for me to feel today like this particular death is very "precious." His LIFE was precious, we want to say, NOT his death. Why is his DEATH precious to the Lord?

In the New International Version text notes we looked at yesterday, the scholars gleaned this insight about that concept of "precious." The passing of a saint like Harold Richards is precious to God, they suggest . . . not in the sense that there's high VALUE in his death. Death is an enemy, an intruder, in God's universe; it always has been and it always will be, right up to the day God banishes it forever. But these Christian scholars suggest that the death of a saint is precious in the sense that God carefully WATCHES OVER that saint during the last journey through the valley and the shadows. He's there with them. He holds their hand in the gathering darkness.

And you know, I feel very strongly that it happened that way here. Our brother Harold was so sick in that bed at Glendale Adventist Hospital. The burdens and the hurts were very real. And yet he always felt the presence of Jesus.

On that last evening, Monday night, April 10, his wife Mary was with him at the hospital. He'd gone into a coma several hours earlier, and the situation was grim. Finally she decided to go home for just a little rest, but you know, almost as she got to her front door, she said to herself: I think I'll go back." She turned around, went back to the hospital, and just a few minutes later was with her lifelong companion right at the moment that he slipped into eternity. She was with him at the end . . . and friend, I believe with all my heart that the presence of God was there in that hospital room, through the loving eyes and hands and heart of Mary Richards, WITH Harold as he departed this life.

ecause the passing of Harold was precious to Jesus. Jesus, who weeps at all deaths, was there to be with His friend Harold at the end of life.

In our Adventist Bible Commentary for this great passage in Psalms, we found a wonderful observation about verse 15, where that expression is found: "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints."

"The Lord does not regard with indifference the death of His saints," they write.

Up in heaven, so many trillions of miles away, the King of the universe doesn't shrug over the fact that last Tuesday morning, just one more Christian passed away. Out of millions and millions of believers, does God care about THIS one named Harold Marshall Sylvester Richards, Jr? Does He notice? Is He concerned? Or is He indifferent, casual about this one funeral notice amidst the thousands that are posted every day of the year on the one world where cemeteries exist?

Well, the commentary scholars point us over to the New Testament, the book of Matthew, where Jesus Himself told His followers a story. I'm sure there were people in HIS audience that day who hadn't done as much for the Lord's work as Harold Richards did. They hadn't been great radio preachers or missionary doctors; they weren't brilliant authors of religious books. Some of them were lucky to catch five fish a week down at the Sea of Galilee; they didn't have much of a resume that would make them "precious" in the sight of heaven. But Jesus looked around at this ragtag bunch of interested people, and He said to them:

"Remember that God never loses sight of you. Look at the sparrows and see how little they're valued, and yet not one of them dies without God noticing it." Then Jesus goes on: "In fact, God even knows the number of hairs you have on your head. So don't be afraid; you're worth more than a whole sky full of sparrows."

There's another way that the death of this particular saint is precious to God, I believe. Because I have to tell you something: Harold Marshall Sylvester Richards, Junior had more than his share of hurts. He was just 70 years old when he passed away last Tuesday morning. But in these last eight years or so since he retired, pills and hospital beds were pretty steady companions. He had illnesses strike him down that just plain baffled the doctors. "Live with it; deal with it" was about all they could tell him sometimes. So he went on preaching trips on behalf of The Voice of Prophecy, and by the time he got off the plane back here in Los Angeles, I KNOW he was hurting beyond description. And now, looking back -- and frankly, some of us quietly wondered even during these last few years -- we had to ask: "Why?" Why Harold? Why a man who served God with such steadfast courage? Why couldn't he, of all people, enjoy vibrant health and a full, abundant retirement? Why couldn't God let him swim and play tennis and travel a little bit to some glamorous destinations where he didn't have eight sermons to deliver and four evangelistic meetings to visit, and six radio stations to drop in on to encourage? Why couldn't Harold Richards enjoy some of the same comforts that sinners and rich criminals and dot.com millionaires had? Why was the short end of the stick always handed to this particular servant?

Well, friend, as we all look back over the 70 years, 5 months, and 17 days that were granted to Harold -- not much over the biblical minimum, the "threescore and ten" -- we see the answer. Why did Harold get the hard package handed to him? Why the trials, when others had it easy? Why a career cut short, while people in much more selfish pursuits keep trucking along into their late 80s? Because God knew that this particular champion could take the harder assignment. H. M. S. Richards, Jr., could accept the rain while others had sunshine. And here and there, once in a while, God needs a champion who will refute the enemy's charges of favoritism.

And so, here in the quiet moments of reflection about it all, we recognize that Harold Richards' death is precious to God. He walked one of the harder roads, and now he gets to rest. He carried a bigger suitcase than some of the rest of us, but now he's permitted to lay it down for a little while. That's precious to God, and it ought to be precious to the rest of us too.

Of course, some of the rest of us need to PICK UP that suitcase. The harder road has one less heavenly traveler on it; who among us will step off the smooth highway of spiritual complacency, and fill the void left behind? Maybe me. And maybe some of you too.

Well, like I said, this is a different kind of day and a different kind of program. We didn't play any theme music; we don't have a free book or CD to mail to each of you. All of this happened just about 24 hours ago as we record, and it's just not a time for gifts and trinkets.

But there have to be some of you listening today who would like to do something special in memory of Brother Harold Richards. You've sent gifts to The Voice of Prophecy for decades, some of you, and here on a week where we think of how God has led, you'd like to make sure He CONTINUES to lead. You'd like the radio to keep being a "voice crying in the wilderness," even though HAROLD's voice can't make that announcement.

We're not going to ask for a particular amount today, or play soft music, or try to manipulate you in any way whatsoever. We wouldn't tell you how much to give, or for what cause. But friend, if you'd like to mail in something, and specify it for some project that The Voice of Prophecy is involved in -- whether it be radio air time, or Discover Bible Lessons, or Internet evangelism, or new print materials to reach young people -- you simply send in whatever seems right to you and put on the envelope what you'd like us to do with your gift. Whatever you send, and whatever you specify . . . we'll do exactly that.

A lot of you regulars know where we are, but here's the address again: The Voice of Prophecy, Box Box 53055, Los Angeles, California 90053. That's Box 53055, Los Angeles, California 90053. You can also call us up, toll-free, and give any kind of memorial gift for Pastor Richards with a credit card; we'll have operators ready to help you with that too. Here's the number: 1-800-872-0055. That's 1-800-872-0055. By the way some of you might want to check in on our website and look at our special tribute to H.M.S. Richards Jr. Just click on www.vop.com.

Well, friend, as we close for today, always remember this.
Have faith in God, When assignments seem unfair.
Have faith in God, In darkness He's still there.
Have faith in God. You're precious in His care.
Have faith, dear friend, in God.