Today, a man in a hospital in a town near me is dying. He asked for a baptist preacher. You can't throw a rock out of a window on a back road there without making at least three of them duck. Phone calls were made by three people at the same time to every nearby baptist church. The pastors at the two largest churches in town were out to lunch. Lunch. Their secretaries refused to call them. Refused. One fellow from 15 miles away said he would come talk with the dying man who confesses he believes but says he is going to hell and wants to talk.
You please pray for the dying man. And pray the baptists preachers who wouldnt be interrupted from fried chicken do not choke on lunch or trip headlong over their piety before they ascend their mighty pulpits again to "preach".