Challenging a church out of focus

By Bishop Richard Wilke

September/October 1986

In his new best seller, And Are We Yet Alive?, Bishop Richard B. Wilke calls the UMC a “church out of focus.” Following are excerpts from the book featuring both his stinging analysis and his creative suggestions for renewal.

The church that carries the day in the years ahead will not be a disjointed religious group, not a “people’s church,’’ not a bunch of cultists who rewrite their own philosophies. It will be a church of Jesus Christ marching to the historic messages of Scripture.

We have taken so seriously scientific analysis of the Scriptures, using higher and lower criticism, historical and contextual understanding, that we have often forgotten to hear what God is trying to say to us. We must take the Bible seriously. It is the sufficient rule both of faith and of practice. We listen to God speak to us as we read, pray, and think about the Scriptures. Without the authority of the Bible, we have no authority at all.

Those who want to rewrite the Bible using their current philosophical or sociological perspectives do us a great disservice. If the God of the Bible is not able to lead us to wholeness and justice and freedom, then we are indeed lost.

A friend of mine, pastor of a large metropolitan church, shared with me, with some chagrin, this insightful personal experience. When he was pastor of First United Methodist Church in Dallas, he decided to have Lenten Bible studies in the homes. He taught a class, and so did his associate pastor. Because he was the senior minister, the pastor’s home was filled to capacity the first night. The associate’s was about half filled. Week after week, however, like the disciples of John the Baptist, the pastor’s group diminished. The associate pastor’s study group grew each week. Discouraged and somewhat disappointed, my friend asked his associate what he was doing wrong. He had gone to his seminary notes and was discussing the authorship, the design of the book and the historical context, and he thought people would be very much interested in “studying the Bible.” The associate said in response, “Oh, we’re just reading the Scriptures and asking what God is saying to us that would be helpful in our daily lives.” The difference in approach is the difference between listening for God’s present voice and engaging in an academic exercise. One has spiritual power; the other has intellectual curiosity.

On the Missing Gospel Link. Elton Trueblood used to say that we are a “cut-flower culture, drawing on the spiritual resources of earlier roots.” The image is appropriate for our church, for we are a cut-flower church, showing certain manifestations of the Gospel, but separated from our nourishment. Trueblood observes that we “cannot reasonably expect to erect a constantly expanding structure of social activism upon a constantly diminishing foundation of faith.”

John Wesley feared that something like this might happen. He wrote in 1786, “I am not afraid that the people called Methodists should ever cease to exist either in Europe or America. But I am afraid, lest they should only exist as a dead sect, having the form of religion without power.” If I were to attend 50 United Methodist churches next Sunday morning, what would I hear? Mostly, sermons would expound ethical implications of the Gospel.

The sermons would be good for me, for they would urge me to be kinder to my immediate associates, and I need that. They would insist that I care more about God’s children who are dying of famine, and, after a plethora of covered-dish dinners, I need that. However, the sermon, in all likelihood, would not tell me what God is doing to me, in me, through me. The preacher would not tell me how God changes the sinful heart into a heart of faith and love.

We are like cut flowers, no longer nourished by the amazing grace that caused us to blossom in the first place. We act theologically, as if everyone were a child of the kingdom. Yet, Christ has forcefully proclaimed that except we become converted and become as little children, we shall not enter the kingdom of God.

We have become preoccupied with politics. We are energized by economic leverages. We are consumed in cultural realignments. But we have forgotten how to mediate the change which God works in the heart through faith in Christ. We have forgotten how to do it with the poor, the dispossessed, the ethnic minorities, the people with handicapping conditions right in our own home towns. We pass resolutions about the poor, but we do not invite them into our churches. We give bread. but we do not break bread with them.

The theological crisis is precisely whether we are Wesleyans or not. Historians say that in John and Charles Wesley’s experiences, and in the sermons and music that flowed forth, the birthday of a Christian shifted from the time of his baptism to that of conversion, and in that change the dividing line of two great systems was crossed. We will have to  decide whether a Christian is someone born in America and baptized by water or a person who knows the gracious work or Christ in his or her heart.

On Runaway Church Machinery. Originally, we were called Methodists because we had a plan, an organization, a method. But now our methodology approaches madness. our organizational genius consumes our most sophisticated  talent. Our structure has become an end in itself, not a means of saving the world.

I became intensely aware or this myopia when I was a pastor. The evangelism committee met, but did not make any calls. The social concerns commission gathered, but did not write any letters. The educational leaders complained about Scriptural illiteracy, but did not read from the Bible. The Council on Ministries assembled to hear reports from the committees, but took little action. The Administrative Board sat in session to approve the budget, but no one was saved. We went home tired, thinking  we had done our church work.

Annual conferences are plagued by housekeeping chores. Years ago, conferences would sponsor great missionary rallies, intensive youth programs or significant evangelistic thrusts. Now, in most conferences, committees set philosophical objectives, prepare budgets. interact with other committees and achieve very little. Most of the money is spent on mileage and meals. In times past, conference committees guided hospitals, camps and colleges. Now, high-powered administrators and strong boards of trustees do that work. Yet the committees still meet. Earlier, conference boards of education nourished thousands of volunteer teachers with workshops, teacher training events and lab schools. Now, with a de-emphasis on Christian education and with subcommittees reporting to other committees who report to the Conference Council on Ministries, not much happens.

I was intrigued by Bishop Underwood of Louisiana simply asking his cabinet to set a goal of 150 new adult classes. The cabinet argued it couldn’t be done. The bishop urged them to try.

The result was almost a doubling of the 150 class goal. There was more action than if a hundred committees had met.

The General Church is caught up in its own machinery. It is so complicated and so irrelevant to the local church that most pastors ignore it.

The organizational wheels keep turning, budgets are prepared, personnel are employed. Administrative turf is protected. To those in the local church, it doesn’t matter much; it’s like the committees of Congress – interesting, but a long way off. However, the local church, like the taxpayer, pays the bills.

On Small Group Nurture. How many people can you love at any one time? Some psychologists say about 12; that is, to be personally concerned, dedicated enough to help, willing to make regular inquiry and eager to pray for each one daily, about 12 is all anyone can handle. No pastor can pray hard enough, run fast enough or love deeply enough to hold hundreds of people in significant Christian fellowship by his or her own efforts. In the church of the future, the pastor will be training lay leaders, class leaders and spiritual leaders who in turn will have ministries to all kinds of covenant groups in the life of the church. It will be the only way to penetrate the urban sprawl.

When Dr. William Hinson was appointed to The First Methodist Church in Houston, Texas, a church of 13 or 14 thousand members, he immediately began to meet with 25 key men at seven o’clock every Thursday morning, and with 25 key women at two-thirty in the afternoon. Almost all of these persons were under 40 years of age. Dr. Hinson disciples these people. He taught them. They talked about what it means to be a Christian in a large city. They talked about Christian stewardship. They prayed. They studied the Bible. They talked about family life and about the pressures of our society. Sometimes someone would say. “I don’t know whether I’m really a Christian or not,” so they talked about that. Someone else would ask for prayer in a business or a family matter. Together they deepened their spiritual lives. Then, Dr. Hinson began to use these people in places of key leadership everywhere in the life of the church. They became lay ministers in training. Last year those key people were so energized that they provided 10 percent of the budget support in that great church.

On Resistance to Evangelism. Our momentum for conversion and compassion for people has been hindered by a spirit of negativism that has swept through the church, particularly through the ministry. We have become experts at being critical of all forms of outreach and evangelization. Hindu theologians and teachers sometimes define God by saying what He is not. That is, they say, “God is not this. God is not this. God is not this.” It has now become popular for us, particularly for professional minister, to ridicule every form of disciple-making by saying, “Real evangelism isn’t this.” “You must be born again? – Baptist theology: Too dramatic. A bus ministry? – We don’t want just kids. we want the whole family. Raise a hand and sing Praise the Lord? – Too emotional. Call house-to-house in teams of two like the Mormons? –  That’s proselytizing. TV evangelism? – They are always asking for money. The Four Spiritual Laws? – -simplistic and presumptuous. A two-year confirmation class like the Lutherans? – Too organized; lacks the reality of conversion.” The disclaimers go on and on. It is as if we wanted to do away with procreation because sex is involved. In church growth, neither I nor any of us want hucksters. No United Methodist wants to prostitute the Gospel. I remember a story told about William Booth, that Methodist preacher who wanted to do evangelism among the “bob-tag and rag-tail” of London. To the woman who criticized his methods of evangelism, he replied. “Madam, I like my way of doing it better  than your way of not doing it.”

On Sunday School Decline. Years ago, one of our most able administrators, Bishop William C. Martin, accurately observed that there were many signs of alive congregations, but the one uniform signal, across the board. of a consistently alive, vibrant and growing church was the strength of its church school attendance. During one period of great growth, the 1880s, 1890s, and early 1900s, the denomination had twice as many people attending the church schools as were members of the church. Children, youth, adults – visitors, friends, relatives – became a part of the church school and later made commitments to the church.

Even as late as the 1950s and ‘60s the church school. by then less than the membership, was still the foundation for new members. Generally, about 70 to 80 percent of all persons received by profession of faith have come out of the church school. Church school attendance has been for us the gateway to Christ and the church.

The decline in our church school began in 1960 and has continued precipitously ever since.

In 1960-1964 – 4.2 million

In 1980-1984 – 2.1 million

Half of our church school is gone! Over two million people are no longer with us. Those classes were. to use Lyle Schaller’s phrase, “ports of entry” for our churches. Those people had “church growth eyes.”  They invited friends and neighbors to come with them to attend their classes. Eventually many experienced the living Christ in their lives and joined the church.

On Inverted Evangelism. Centripetal witnessing means to invite people into the fellowship and to help them grow toward the center of axis, which is in fact Christ himself; we are talking about inverted evangelism, witnessing turned inside out. Instead of inviting people to accept Christ, then join the church, then become a part of the body – life of the church. The strategy is 180 degrees in the opposite direction. Bring people into the corporate life; that is, toward the center. Let them experience the joy, the music, the Scriptures, the prayers, the love of the people. As they sing “Amazing Grace,” they may find it. As a person experiences the acceptance of the fellowship, he or she may find the love that will not let go. Then, in the koinonia, as the people grow closer to the axis, their lives will become integrated, whole, and in harmony with God, neighbor and themselves.

This inverted evangelism has a Wesleyan heritage. We preachers tend to idolize the Wesleys and George Whitefield for their preaching; indeed they were centrifugal and did go out into the open fields where the people were. But historians tell us that more conversions took place in the class meetings than ever occurred under the preaching of those noted evangelists. They stirred people up with their preaching, but then invited them to come to the group meetings. When Wesley was preaching. he would invite people to join a class and would sometimes form a new class that very evening. He would explain that the one condition for class membership was simply “the desire to flee the wrath to come,” know the acceptance of God and live a higher life.’’

On Accountability. Immediately after I was consecrated a bishop, a friend came by to see me. He was president and chief executive officer of a major corporation, a marvelous Christian and a great churchman. He went right to the point; he said, “Dick, any large company that has a track record like the United Methodist Church, whose charts show steady decline, would have been called on the carpet long ago. The board of directors would have demanded emergency meetings, and the corporate executives would have been held accountable. Consultants would have been brought in. Heads would roll. It would not be business as usual.”

Those of us in places of leadership in the United Methodist Church must assume a great deal of responsibility for the decline of our denomination. Bishops, members of general boards, key laypersons, district superintendents and pastors have focused on many matters, but not on the health and well-being of the local church.

Ineffective ministers will have to be weeded out, using leave of absence, disability leave and administrative location. Churches do not exist to serve ministers. No pastor can be permitted to destroy half-a-dozen churches as he or she flounders in personal confusion or professional ineptitude. No longer should a pastor be guaranteed a job for life. It is not good enough to send a grossly ineffective pastor to the boondocks. The small church deserves a “workman who needeth not to be ashamed.” A seminary degree is not a work permit.

Currently. we don’t have money for missionaries. We don’t have money for new churches. We are fat where we should be lean and lean where we should be fat. Something is wrong with a church that has larger boards of directors than it has staff for those boards. Something is askew with a church with more administrative staff than missionaries.

During the annual conference, when the statistician finished reading the negative report to the conference, one bishop got up from his chair and stepped to the floor of the conference. He then led the entire body in a service of contrition. With dignity and power, he guided a confession of sins for failing to lead men and women, girls and boys into a saving relationship with God and into a fellowship experience in the Church of Jesus Christ.

 On Being a Burning Church. Many people believe that our business is to run the church. That’s why we’re in trouble. Our job is not to run the church; our job is to save the world. “For God did not send his Son into the world to be its judge, but to be its Savior” (John 3:17, TEV). Oh, let us pray that our young men and women will have visions of a world transformed, that our old men and old women will dream of a church on fire.

I remember a young woman who was burning – burning up inside with guilt, loneliness and sexual cravings. She is an illustration of our world aflame. I’ll call her Jeanette. She walked into my study complaining that she was overeating and gaining weight.

As we talked. she mentioned growing up in a small town. attending UMYF, going to the university, living with a fellow for a couple of years, preparing for a wedding that never happened. When the man walked out, she began to work hard, weep a lot and eat. Dates were one night stands – in the sack and out.

“Dear God,” I prayed, “if only the fire of the Spirit could be ignited within her so she could be at peace.” But I needed help. I needed the apostolic word. the supportive community, the prayers of the faithful, the incisive skill of the Great Physician. Then I remembered. On Wednesdays, a Christian psychologist came to our church to serve as a trained therapist for anyone in need. He served as a pastoral associate from a local community mental health center.

I thought of our new young adult church school class that had grown out of a Thursday night group.

As Jeanette continued to talk, across my mind flashed the little prayer group of young women from that class and of the young adults who sat together in worship. Suddenly I blurted out, “Jeanette. here’s what I want you to do: I am going to make an appointment with our therapist. Will you see him?

“Yes,” she answered.

“You need Christian friends who will treat you as a human being, not as a disposable object. Will you come to our young adult class?”

She nodded.

“I’m going to have a fine young woman call and invite you to the prayer group. Okay? And come to worship if you can.”

I never said much about Jesus. But the counselor called me and said that after several interviews he and Jeanette concluded their final session with prayer. He literally saw her straighten up her shoulders, dry her eyes and beam with a new joy in her heart. Later when I saw her, she was trim, laughing, surrounded by new-found friends.

Her mother wrote me, “Jeanette has come ‘home.’” She didn’t mean back to her hometown, but home to God, home to her family relationships, home to her true self, home to the church. The fires of guilt, loneliness and sexual  cravings had been quenched. A new fire burned within her.

The United Methodist Church can burn again with the fires of Pentecost. The Holy Spirit can empower us to speak in all the languages of the world, can enable all women and men, old and young, of every race and nation to be inviting witnesses of peace, and can get aflame the mission of Jesus Christ to save a lost and lonely world.

From 1984-1996, Richard B. Wilke was Bishop of the Arkansas area of the United Methodist Church. These excerpts from his book. And Are We Yet Alive © 1986 by Abingdon Press are used by permission.

 

 

Sidebar: Conversation with Bishop Wilke. 

Bishop Dick Wilke is afraid people will get the wrong idea about And Are We Yet Alive? “One of the things I fear about my book is that people will say, ‘Well, he’s down on the church.’ I’m hoping they’ll see the great hope and optimism.”

But as Wilke, who presides over United Methodism in Arkansas, begins to tell visitors to his office how the book is being received, his anxiety is replaced by excitement and pleasure.

“How many times have you ever written a two-page, single-spaced letter to any book author?” Bishop Wilke asks the interviewer. Upon receiving a negative reply, he says, “I never have. I never have in my whole life.” Wilke has written three other books and felt lucky to get 20 letters on a book before.

And Are We Yet Alive? is a different story. The bishop estimates he has received between 200 and 250 letters as of mid-July. “It’s just been unbelievable,” he says.

The book has been selling, too. Published in hardcover, more than 35,000 copies have been printed so far. Book tables at last summer’s annual conferences couldn’t keep it in stock. Church publications are writing articles. Speaking invitations are rolling in. And that’s on  top of the splash Wilke has already made as chairman of the committee trying to turn our membership loss around.

No doubt about it. Bishop Wilke is the talk of the church right now. Still, he’s frustrated over his limited tools for implementing change.

“As a person there’s so little I can do,” he states. “I have no staff. I have no power.”

“My book is a scream in the night. Hopefully, others will hear it and respond to it.” One thing he can do, he asserts, is concentrate on bringing church growth to his own area.

Arkansas’ two annual conferences have adopted a “five star plan,” which includes asking each church to: (1) receive one person on profession of faith for every 75 members; (2) increase Sunday school attendance by five percent; (3) start a new adult Sunday school class within a year; (4) hold a confirmation or membership training class; and (5) pay apportionments. Last year 85-90 of the state’s 842 United Methodist churches made the grade.

If anything, Dick Wilke is a man of action. There’s nothing of the politician or the bureaucrat about him. Mincing words and skirting issues are foreign to him. Another thing – the bishop isn’t holding back his influence for future use like many other leaders. Like the young Patrick Henry, who made his “Give me  liberty or give me death” speech very early in his career, Wilke feels he must speak up now or never.

Only elected bishop in 1984, he had been the pastor of a Wichita, Kansas congregation. Wilke is still very much in touch with the local church, and doubts whether big national schemes will turn the church around. Neither is he convinced that retooling our theology is the key.

“It isn’t so much that we don’t believe in conversion,” says Wilke, “we just haven’t been preaching it. It’s not that we don’t believe in the atoning work of God in Christ [but that] we haven’t been saying much about it.”

The bishop believes the church’s enthusiasm for social issues and preaching on ethics has blurred the fact that many of our members are not even converted. Nor, he believes, are we reaching outside our contented little fellowships to bring in nonbelievers, especially young people.

“We’re talking  about a field white unto the harvest,” he states. “And whether you’re talking about hell as an experience after death, whether you’re talking about the hell of being a 13-year-old prostitute in San Francisco or whether you’re talking about any of the tornness of life between 11 and 17, the need for Christ and faith is just overwhelming.

“So whether or not it’s a matter of theology, I would call it more a matter of will and spirit and intensity. More a matter of driveness. Our church must become driven.

Referring to his book, Bishop Wilke knows words won’t be enough.

“My great fear is that we will talk about theology or sociology, or continuously diagnose the ailing church, that there will be books and pamphlets and speeches made by the thousands on what’s wrong with the church – and nobody will be doing anything.

“My great hope is that in local church after local church, people will start reaching out to their neighbors and helping to include them in the life of the fellowship.”

-James S. Robb