Archive: How Many People Does Bill Hinson Pastor?
New Year’s Day 1989 found Dr. William H. Hinson, pastor of the world’s largest United Methodist church, living on the streets. And though Hinson was there for only one night (with four other Houston clergymen) to experience and dramatize the plight of the homeless, it wasn’t an empty gesture—Bill Hinson’s 13,500-member church responded to their pastor’s experience with $20,000 over the $35,000 homeless-aid budget.
By Amy Rabinovitz
“The wonderful power of First UMC, Houston is the way the people understand the beautiful Methodist balance,” says Hinson. ” They aren’t afraid of paradoxes—personal holiness and social holiness, pietism and activism. They accept paradox as both/and rather than either/or.”
Such balances characterize the ministry and charisma of this southern-bred preacher.
In person he is soft-spoken and gracious. In the pulpit, dramatically distinct.
His sermons are replete with down-home homilies of old saints in nursing homes and young couples in distress, but equally peppered with serious concepts from Scripture.
His strong preaching is “a gift of the Lord, an endowment to someone He’s called to the pulpit,” but in addition to inspiration, Hinson has added a certain amount of perspiration. “I minored in speech in college and took as many preaching courses as the seminary curriculum would permit. When I went to Boston University for my master’s degree in homiletics I studied with A. K. Chalmers, a flamboyant and dramatic preacher. I earned my doctorate under the direction of John Brokhoff, a strong, biblical preacher.”
Bill Hinson also displayed a delicate balance when he came to Houston in 1983. After the retirement of the highly-respected Dr. Charles Allen, some outsiders predicted the church would lose ground. But by respecting the existing, strong structure while pursuing aggressive church growth, Hinson avoided the settle-in-and-die syndrome.
“This church has 500 people on the administrative board, and during my first summer as pastor I met personally with 367 of them.” (The others, he explains, were out of town and unavailable.) “That entire summer I listened and asked questions. ‘What are your dreams?’ ‘What do you want to see God do through our church?’
“Over and over I heard that they wanted to serve. The possibilities of this church are staggering. We’re strategically located in the heart of one of America’s largest cities. We’ve been on ABC television for 35 years, so thousands beyond our sanctuary walls look to us for spiritual guidance.
“Countless people feel involved in the church. One television viewer, a 100-year-old woman who hadn’t been in our church in 20 years, wrote and asked us to turn the television cameras to a certain area so she could see who was sitting in ‘her’ section.” (Yes, the cameras ministered to the home-bound member’s request.)
With the people’s mandate for ministry, Hinson initiated several discipleship programs including three Bible studies—a men’s breakfast study, a women’s afternoon study and a lunchtime businesspersons’ study—which he personally taught. These Bible studies have been a source of support and guidance for both pastor and church. In his guide to church evangelism, A Place To Dig In (Abingdon Press), Hinson credits the church’s 100 percent increase in giving to the power of laity nurtured through core groups such as these.
The church also initiated Disciple Bible Studies which have grown from 4 groups to 20, with an additional 20 slated for 1990; and an Aldersgate Club, numbering 700, in which members agree to try to bring others into the church.
The catalyst for two new programs came when Hinson heard about a young couple expecting their first child. During her pregnancy the wife had to stay in bed for several months. The couple dropped all activities, but not one person from church called and asked why they hadn’t been attending.
“When they told me their experience,” Hinson remembers, “I realized that the worst thing isn’t when a member drops out. It’s when no one notices.”
Bill Hinson preached this couple’s story from the pulpit. He called the staff together and asked for ideas. The result was the Barnabas Committee, which follows up with each new member and helps newcomers find a place in the church. A Nurturing Committee reviews each Sunday’s attendance and calls anyone who has missed three weeks.
Opportunities for such extensive ministry are a far cry from Bill Hinson’s home church, the 22-member First Church, Snipesville, Georgia. It was there he was called to the ministry, and from there he was sent to his first congregation (39 members).
Hinson attributes much of his ministry’s success to his wife, Jean. “She is the best Christian I’ve ever known and a model of how to listen to people. She has been a nurturer and supporter to me. Her own quiet commitment to Christ is a great source of strength. She helped me balance my family time, and when I had to be away she involved the children in such a way that they became a part of my ministry. As a result all three of our children, Elizabeth, John and Cathy, are deeply committed to the church.”
The Hinsons were serving in First Church, Albany, Georgia, when Bill was called to Houston. Though he had already achieved a reputation as a powerful preacher who carefully tended his congregation, he was a dark horse candidate for Houston.
“I was at a pastors’ conference in Alabama and, as pastors will, everyone was talking about who was going to fill the spot in Houston. Everyone’s name was mentioned but mine.”
In the end a funny turn of the Lord’s hand helped Hinson. “I had been interviewed by several members of the committee, but I hadn’t talked with the chairman. So I kept waiting and waiting for him to call. Then one cold Monday in February he called and asked if I’d be preaching Sunday.
“Saturday night I couldn’t even pray. Jean asked me why I was home so early, and I said, ‘I feel like it’s been decided. Either I’m going or I’m staying, but I’m happy either way.”‘
The normal pattern of the Houston committee was to fly in Saturday night, watch the early service on television and attend the second service.
“That Sunday in early service all I could think about was the chairman watching me on TV. The Lord couldn’t have gotten into that service because I wasn’t thinking about Him. So I bombed. I was awful. I went to Sunday school knowing that I should stay in Georgia. And that was okay. Then after class the chairman walked in and told me, ‘We had the wildest time. Our plane iced up in Atlanta, and we had to rent a car and drive like mad to get here. We just arrived.’ The next service I preached for the Lord.”
By the time he got home that afternoon, “I told Jean to go to the alley behind the liquor store and get some boxes. Any God who could work all that out could put me in Houston.”
That the hand of the Lord is on this preacher is obvious in several ways, including this 150-year-old church’s defiance to all downward trends. Though membership in United Methodist churches has dropped 18 percent and the denomination influences only about the same percentage of Americans as it did 160 years ago, First Church claims more than 600 new members a year, and the ministry has expanded into video and cable TV. In 1988, 200 of the 673 new members came through professions of faith.
God was also evident when a fire caused millions of dollars of damage to the church and heavily damaged their magnificent organ. Hinson had only been pastor six months. Houstonians were so distressed over the loss that one person wrote to the local paper, “That fire wouldn’t have happened if Dr. Allen were still pastor.”
However, Bill Hinson views the experience as having a good side. “The church grew even while meeting in a hotel ballroom. And going through the trauma, challenge and suffering together created a unique bond between us.” He likens it to being together for five years of normal emotional involvement.
If Bill Hinson has a mission, it is to share the need for leaders to challenge and enable the laity. As one of the key organizers of the Houston Declaration, he was responding “to what I saw over and over again in my travels—an alarming gap between the official church position and what people actually believed and wanted.
“The Houston Declaration started as just a few phone calls between friends, talking about the pattern we saw developing.” By coming together and organizing a statement, Hinson and the other organizers of the Houston Declaration have encouraged thousands of people. “This General Conference was more responsive to the grassroots than any in my memory,” he says with pleasure.
Even fiery issues, however, are balanced by Bill Hinson ‘s southern-gentleman approach, and his ministry is, in many ways, like one of his favorite hobbies. “I love to plant things. When I first got to Houston I planted an oak tree. Not one that would live only 50 years. One that would live more than 100.”
A thoughtful expression lights his face. “I like,” he explains, “to plan for the long haul.”
Amy Rabinovitz resides in Houston, Texas, and is a staff writer for Chosen People magazine.
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