Archive: Francis Asbury

Archive: Francis Asbury

Archive: Francis Asbury

The Man Who Launched American Methodism

By William K. Quick

The famous statue of Francis Asbury in Washington, D.C. depicts a rider in bronze, a weary rider astride a weary horse. Fatigue weighs heavily upon the man. There is a feeling of intense exhaustion. But under the wide brim of the low hat two burning eyes look out. They remind us not of Asbury’s incredible toils but of his boundless vision.

Methodism has produced few giants. Wesley was for real—the most authentic and, without doubt, our greatest. Asbury does not compare in talent or accomplishment to the founder of Methodism. Yet Asbury is equally praiseworthy. His place in American Methodism is unsurpassed.

Born in an obscure English village; sent as a stranger to another shore, without influence, wealth, or position; and called to assume control of a scattered band of churches in an hour of chaos—this man rode to the service of his fellows until thousands came to new life at his word, and all the nation held his name in honor. Mail was delivered to him with the simple address: “The Reverend Francis Asbury, America.”

An entry in Asbury’s Journal dated December 21, 1795, captures the spirit of his vision and his work: “We came down Brunswick County, North Carolina, 20 miles to Normans, within the line of South Carolina.

“This country abounds with bays, swamps and drains; if there were no sinners I would not go along these roads. I am in want of rest and would be glad to better fare. O for patience, faith, courage and every grace! Sometimes I feel as though I could rejoice to die and go home, but at other times the work of God is in my way, and sometimes my own unworthiness.”

Young Asbury was born to common people. His peasant father was a gardener, his mother, actively religious and devout. “My mother used to take me with her to the female meeting,” wrote Asbury, “which she conducted once a fortnight for the purpose of reading Scriptures. Then they thought, Frank might venture a word of exhortation, so after reading I would venture to expand. … ”

Asbury began to hold public meetings at age 17 and was not quite 18 when he started to preach. At about 21 he became an itinerant, supplying for an absent preacher. At the controversial Bristol Conference in 1771, when delegates were agitated over Calvinistic and Arminian theology, John Wesley asked for volunteers: “Our brethren in America call aloud for help. Who are willing to go over and help them?”

Five responded and two were appointed, including Asbury. He left the only home he’d ever known and set sail from Bristol.

At age 26 this studious, introspective lay preacher—with a thoughtfulness tinged with melancholy—wrote in his Journal, “Whither am I going? To the new world? What to do? To gain honor? No, if I know my own heart. To get money? No, I am going to live to God and bring others so to do.”

Great purpose

Those words may sound commonplace and unimpressive. But study them and you see the dominating force of a great purpose. In those days most people came to America either to get money, win honor, or seek adventure. None of these aims were in the mind of Francis Asbury.

He wrote, “If God does not acknowledge me in America, I will soon return to England.” He never returned. He came an Englishman; he became an American.

Arriving in Philadelphia, Asbury grew concerned about the preachers staying in the city. He began riding in the country to “show them the way.” “Gazing around” he called it. He preferred to tackle the back country’s raw, new settlements.

Asbury drove himself through all sorts of weather. And it made him so ill he nearly died. He so weakened his throat that it was repeatedly infected for the rest of his life.

Next he turned South, and the pattern of his arduous lifetime schedule became set. He preached mornings at 5 o’clock, some afternoons, most evenings, and two to three times on Sunday. He held prayer and worship meetings, visited prisoners, preached funerals, and rode 20 to 50 miles a day on horseback.

Crowds came to hear his preaching, and Asbury began to see results. Careless men became new men. Vigorous young converts joined the ranks of Methodist preachers.

However, success did not come cheaply. Listen to him: “Few hearers, few inhabitants, fewer still with any sense of religion” … “wicked people” … “inattentive.”

“At Island Creek I was poorly provided for against the weather, the house unfurnished and, to make matters worse, a horse kicked open the door. I took a cold, had a toothache, with a high fever. … If there were no sinners here, I would not go!”

Asbury suffered from a catalog of ailments: boils, fevers, inflammatory rheumatism, sore throat, weak eyes, bronchitis, asthma, toothache, ulcers in the throat and stomach, neuralgia, intestinal disorders, swollen glands, skin diseases, and finally “galloping consumption.” And all this in a day without aspirin, Anacin, Bufferin, Alka-Seltzer, or Preparation H.

He might have fared better had he chosen to marry. But Asbury was married to Methodism. He explained his choice of celibacy on the grounds of his calling: “I could hardly expect to find a woman with grace enough to enable her to live one week out of 52 with a husband; besides what right has any man to take advantage of the affection of a woman, make her his wife and by voluntary absence subvert the whole order and economy of the marriage state. … It is neither just nor generous.”

This first-elected bishop of American Methodism wanted his preachers to be poor, unworthy, and celibate—like himself. But the system floundered at this last point. Asbury’s preachers were red-blooded creatures who fell in love and wished to marry. They did, at a great rate, and he located them by the hundreds. He recalled one day to a friend, “The women and the devil will get all my preachers.”

Yet, Asbury had love and sympathy for the preachers whose lives and interests so largely were in his hands. He saw them as the fighting force of the church. If they succeeded, the church advanced. If they failed, the church lagged.

He knew all the preachers by name and face, and he made it a regular habit to pray for them. On occasion he’d write to them to advise, suggest, encourage. He worked side-by-side, not above them, not asking for himself any more than they had. He even drew the same salary: $64 per year from 1784 to 1800, then $80 per year until his death.

Potshots

Asbury’s dedication is evident. But he was never without his critics. He was the target of potshots from the beginning, when there were fewer than 1,000 American Methodists and less than a dozen pastors.

His preachers attacked him. Pilmoor complained that Asbury was “bossy.” O’Kelly called him a tyrant and accused him of “popery.” Some called him the biggest villain in America. They said his preaching would empty the church … that he sought power over men to drive and enslave them … that he was a tyrant over the poor preachers, vain and wanting honors, determined to rule or ruin. Even John Wesley accused Asbury of “strutting ” and calling himself a bishop because it was a higher sounding word than superintendent.

If Asbury at times seemed autocratic, it can be argued that this was necessary to bring order and discipline out of a chaotic condition. He was a sensitive person and felt deeply the attacks upon him. So he prayed that he might bear them patiently.

I find it interesting, however, that in Ezekiel Cooper’s funeral sermon for Asbury he said, “Probably in candor, we ought to admit he was more deficient in the exercise of patience than in any of the Christian graces.”

Asbury was no doubt irritable and impatient at times. The best of men are only men at best. Francis Asbury had his defects. Yet he endured what few men could or would have borne. He prayed constantly for patience, faith, courage, and every grace. Sometimes, however, he admitted feeling “as though I could rejoice to die and go home.”

His best purposes, at times, were misrepresented and distorted. The weight of all the church was upon him. Concern for the churches brought restless nights and sorrowful days. What grieved his soul as much as anything was discord and division among the brethren. He writes of one local society where “the leading members cannot speak of each other, or to each other, without bringing heavy accusations.”

He was indignant over the way blacks were treated. He records in 1802 a visit to a church where, “100 blacks [slaves] were standing outside peeping in at the door while the house was half-empty. They were not worthy to come in because they were black. Farewell, farewell to that house forever.” He never returned.

In the years just prior to his death, Asbury increasingly shifted from attempts to emancipate blacks to attempts to evangelize. Still, his early encouragement to the black Methodists was perhaps one of the most socially significant works of his life.

The work of God was so important that no season, no weather stopped him. He pressed on—an itinerant ever in the saddle; a preacher whose one business it was to win men to God.  If some didn’t think Bishop Asbury worthy of his title or equal to his influence, let it be said how well aware he was of his own unworthiness. His tender conscience never allowed him to think lightly of his own faults and imperfections.

In his Journal he is constantly taking his spiritual temperature or stretching his soul: “For my unholiness and unfaithfulness, my soul is humbled. … My heart is too cool towards God: I want to feel it like a holy flame.”

Blind hearers

He marveled that God could even use him. Not the most popular Methodist preacher, he never counted himself a skilled pulpiter. He often noted the response to his sermons and admitted they were “dry” or “dull ” or “heavy.” And the laymen sometimes agreed.

Once, because he was sick, Asbury asked Jesse Lee to preach in his place. Then Asbury exhorted following the sermon. The people thought Lee was Asbury and murmured, “The Bishop was fine but we didn’t like what the old man said who spoke afterwards.”

Asbury’s humor seldom comes through in his writings. But once he wrote, “I attempted to preach on the lame and the blind. I fear the sermon was very lame and it may be I left my hearers as I found them—blind.”

Asbury had a sense of unworthiness but it did not dim his vision: “God hath given us hundreds in 1800, why not thousands in 1801, yea, why not a million if we have the faith. Lord increase our faith.”

America has many statues of men on horseback—generals with sword in scabbard or unsheathed and waving aloft, beckoning their followers to advance. Methodism’s Man on Horseback has his sword in hand, too. But it is a different sword: “The Sword of the Spirit—the Word of God.”

Other monuments honor military greatness. The reason for Asbury’s monument is his total dedication to the invincible Christ, proclaimed in the Word of God.

During his 45-year ministry Asbury traveled over 270,000 miles on horseback, preaching 16,425 sermons, conducting 224 annual conferences, and ordaining over 4,000 ministers. When he came to America in 1771 there were fewer than 1,000 Methodists. When he died in 1816 there were 215,000. And by 1850 one out of every three church members in America was Methodist! Truly, as Bishop Hamilton said, “He printed the map of his ministry with the hoofs of his horse.”

President Calvin Coolidge said at the dedication of the Washington statue: “Who shall say where his influence, written upon the immortal souls of men, shall end?”

Archive: Francis Asbury

Archive: Nobody’s Perfect, Right?

Archive: Nobody’s Perfect, Right?

What Wesley taught about Christian Perfection

by William B. Coker

John Wesley referred to the doctrine of Christian perfection as “the grand depositum which God has lodged with the people called Methodists.” Some have called it “Wesley’s heresy.”

The difficulty is with the word perfection. Understood as the state of being without fault or defect (according to Webster), the term is one that can only be applied truthfully to God.

When Wesley used the term perfection to describe a state of grace possible for fallen humanity, it was more than most could accept. In fact, it was more than Wesley himself could allow. So he modified it by explaining that the perfection he preached is not absolute perfection, or angelic perfection, or sinless perfection; rather, it is Christian perfection. Still, many remain uncomfortable with the word.

So why use it? Why not abandon it for some better, less antagonizing term? Because, for Wesley, the word is Scriptural. “Therefore,” he wrote in 1763, “neither you nor I can in conscience object against it, unless we would send the Holy Ghost to school, and teach Him to speak who made the tongue.” Also, the Church has had no qualms about using the word in its liturgy. We pray, “Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of thy Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love thee ….”

Nonetheless, Wesley did use other terms to speak of this work, such as perfect love, entire sanctification, and holiness. Whatever the term, Wesley’s teaching emphasized a state of grace beyond justification or the new birth.

It is a level of Christian experience made possible, first, by discovering the depths of carnality in the human heart through the convincing ministry of the Holy Spirit. It is an experience received by the gift of faith through which one believes for the purifying of the heart as a benefit of Christ’s atonement. It is the possibility and the privilege of grace extended to every child of God.

Unrealistic?

Surely, many object, this Wesleyan teaching is unrealistic. Only in the “perfection of burial” (as Calvin would say), only in the holiness of heaven can we be free from carnality!

Much of today’s fundamentalism or evangelicalism is adamant about the unresolved depravity of human nature in this life. And what these theologies have to say about holiness can be understood in terms of unobtainable pursuits. Anyone claiming to have found the grace of God to achieve such a state is either spiritually naive or guilty of spiritual pride.

But for all of-the protests, Wesley’s teaching continues to call us back to what the Scriptures plainly declare: Jesus told His disciples to “be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matthew 5:48). The promise of the new covenant is “I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you will be clean; I will cleanse you from all your filthiness” (Ezekiel 36:25). The standard that God set for His people in both the Old and New Testaments is “be holy, for I am holy” (Leviticus 11:44; I Peter 1:16).

In his Plain Account of Christian Perfection Wesley outlined the spiritual results which characterize this experience:

  • purity of intention, dedicating all the life to God;
  • all the mind which was in Christ, enabling us to walk as Christ walked;
  • the circumcision of the heart from all filthiness, all inward as well as outward pollution;
  • a renewal of the heart in the whole image of God, the full likeness of Him that created it;
  • loving God with all our heart, and our neighbors as ourselves.

To those who take issue with such a standard, Wesley declared that this doctrine was not his. “It is the doctrine of St. Paul, the doctrine of St. James, of St. Peter, and St. John … I tell you, as plain as I can speak, where and when I found this. I found it in the oracles of God, in the Old and New Testaments; when I read them with no other view or desire but to save my own soul” (Plain Account).

The experience of Christian perfection, as Wesley understood it, was not simultaneous with the new birth, though he agreed there is nothing in the Bible which precludes that. In every person claiming such a state of grace whom he had interviewed, the experience was subsequent to the experience of salvation.

Only having been reconciled to God through Christ “do they see the ground of their heart, which God would not disclose unto them, lest the soul should fail before Him” (Plain Account). Psychologically and spiritually, the new birth seems to be a prerequisite for this deeper working of the Holy Spirit.

To understand Wesley’s teaching at least three factors must be clearly perceived. The first is that Wesley agrees with Luther and Calvin that the problem of inbred sin, or carnality, remains in the born-again Christian. But he disagrees that the child of God must remain a carnal Christian until death.

Believers may, in fact, not avail themselves of the provisions of grace and may not be entirely sanctified until death. Nevertheless, sanctification before death is not only possible but ought to be sought.

Seek it now

Christ died to accomplish our sanctification (Ephesians 5:25-27). He prayed that it might be done (John 17:17-23). The Apostle Paul likewise prayed that it might be so (I Thessalonians 5:23). And the Bible teaches that it may be received through faith (Acts 26:18). Since these things are clearly established, one should seek it now.

A second factor is that this subsequent experience which Wesley called entire sanctification or Christian perfection is a gradual process, usually over a number of years, culminating in an instantaneous cleansing. Though Wesley never tried to prescribe how God must effect His work in the human heart, he did not believe in assembly-line saints or instant perfection. Both the new birth and Christian perfection involve the process of divine/human interaction.

A third factor is that Wesley’s understanding of Christian perfection is a matter of the heart and not of the humanity. He used the Scriptural metaphor of the circumcision of the heart and spoke of perfection in terms of love and intention.

He conceived of no state of grace in which the effects of man’s fallenness in terms of knowledge or judgment or emotions would be eradicated. In speaking of those whose hearts had been circumcised by grace Wesley said, “Even these souls dwell in a shattered body, and are so pressed down thereby, that they cannot exert themselves as they would, by thinking, speaking, and acting precisely right” (Plain Account).

Ignorance and mistakes

Because there is no cleansing from ignorance, mistakes, and the infirmities of the flesh, those whose hearts are made perfect in love continually need Christ as their High Priest. Though Wesley differentiated between mistakes and “sin rightly so called,” he believed that all transgressions of God’s holiness need atonement. Therefore, even the perfect must pray for themselves, “Forgive us our trespasses.”

Furthermore, because perfect love is not absolute perfect love, it should “abound still more and more in real knowledge and all discernment” (Philippians 1:9). Such growth and development, Wesley anticipated, will continue into eternity.

The question remains: Did Wesley allow his idealism to obscure his perception of reality? Did this “man of one Book” develop a theology of Christian experience which is not “according to the book”?

I find three crucial areas in which Wesley speaks to my need in harmony with God’s revealed truth. The first is in the matter of sin. That which separates us from God and hides His face from us (Isaiah 59:1-2) is both a matter of our actions and of the disposition of our hearts. In my case, as I expect is true of all of us, the Holy Spirit first confronted me with my sinful acts. Then it was not until I had repented of my sins and had been brought into a personal relationship with Christ that I began to understand the real problem lay much deeper.

Bishop R.S. Foster described such an awakening in his book Christian Purity. Speaking of one genuinely converted he wrote: “But at length a new occasion for disquiet arises. The purified spiritual vision discovers a great depth of iniquity within; and the quickened and tender conscience is convicted of and pained by deep, inwrought pollution.” As Bill Bright and Campus Crusade acknowledged, the “Four Spiritual Laws” must have a sequel in “The Spirit-filled Life” if we are to be more than carnal Christians.

Idle words

Many of God’s people have discovered that His promise to “forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (I John 1:9) is more than idle words. Clean hands and pure hearts are still the Biblical standard.

A second Wesleyan emphasis which I find to be thoroughly Scriptural is that of holiness. It sounds impressively humble to disclaim holiness as a present reality and to affirm one’s unending quest for such a state of grace. But an unbiased reading of the Bible will reveal that God’s commands and promises for holiness are not wistful words about the sweet by and by. God clearly instructed Israel that they were to be a holy people.

Paul told the Thessalonians he was anxious to return to their city that he might supply what was lacking in their faith. He prayed that the Lord would “establish [their] hearts unblameable in holiness before our God and Father” (I Thessalonians 3:13).

Peter instructed the temporary residents of the Dispersion to whom he was writing that they were not to “be conformed to [their] former lusts,” but rather they were to “be holy … in all [their] behavior” as the One who had called them is holy (I Peter 1:14, 15). In spite of all arguments of our unworthiness, holiness is not only God’s expectation for His people, it is His expressly commanded purpose. And that in the context of our humanity!

God’s standard for holiness is demanding, for sure. Some Christians have even described it so loftily that it is beyond reality. But perhaps we should ask whether our portrayal of an unreal, angelic sanctity might not be a camouflage for second-rate commitment and third-rate spiritual disciplines.

The third Scriptural emphasis for which I am indebted to Wesley is that of Christian perfection. Wesley cannot be ignored when he points out that the term is Biblical. Even our attempts to translate the idea as “maturity” do not cover the Biblical occurrences. What version reads, “Be mature as your Father in heaven is mature”?

Without defect

Our problem is that we are functioning with a philosophical definition of perfection, that is, “without flaw or defect ” when in truth such a definition does not fit the Biblical usage. The idea of “completeness” more adequately interprets Scriptural use. That is why Wesley could say that all he meant by Christian perfection is “to love God with all one’s heart, mind, soul, and strength.”

Wesley’s plan for the Methodist societies was to thrust the newly converted Christians immediately into the quest for wholeness of heart—to assist them to believe that God could and to pray that God would cleanse their hearts so they might perfectly love Him. Then, if by faith they came into the blessing of a pure heart, they were to understand that only by a moment-by-moment relationship with their Lord, living in complete dependence upon His grace, could they be sustained in such a holy oneness.

Who is to say that such a Biblical standard of grace is not really possible? The founder of Methodism certainly believed that it is.

Archive: Francis Asbury

Archives: New Mission Society for UMs Opens for Business in Atlanta (1984)

Archives: New Mission Society for UMs Opens for Business in Atlanta

March/April 1984

Good News

A new missions agency designed to give United Methodists a way to support more evangelical missionary activity opened for business on February 1, in Atlanta.

The Mission Society for United Methodists has been organized by a coalition of UM evangelicals who believe the program of the official General Board of Global Ministries has concentrated mostly on social and political change.

Dr. L.D. Thomas, pastor of Tulsa’s First UM Church and chairman of the new society, explained, “We are not trying to take over what the Board of Global Ministries does in sending missionaries, but we would supplement it by sending more evangelical and traditional Methodist missionaries.”

Organizers of the new agency come from diverse backgrounds. They include Paul Morell, chairman of the Good News-affiliated Evangelical Missions Council; Gerald Anderson, director of the Overseas Ministries Study Center; and Leighton Farrell, pastor of the denomination’s second largest church, Highland Park UM Church in Dallas.

The Mission Society named Rev. H.T. Maclin as its executive director. Maclin served for 31 years as a missionary with the Board of Global Ministries, most recently as area representative for the Southeastern Jurisdiction.

The Rev. Virgil Maybray, executive secretary of the Evangelical Missions Council, also accepted an executive position with the new agency beginning in July. At its January board meeting, the Good News board of directors voted to fold the EMC in favor of the Mission Society and commended Maybray for his effective eight-year tenure with Good News. The EMC will be replaced with a missions and evangelism task force.

The creation of the Mission Society instantly stirred up debate over the mission program of the denomination. Upset church officials supportive  of GBGM characterized the new agency as dangerous and asked for a series of inquiries into the new society.

Michigan Bishop Edsel Ammons sent a “strong personal protest” to the church’s Judicial Council: “It is my judgment that this action not only is misleading and untimely, but illegal.” Ammons said that General Conference should deal with the new agency.

Equally distressed was GBGM president Bishop Jesse DeWitt, who stated the Mission Society will “further erode the established patterns of giving” within the denomination. In an effort that partly backfired, DeWitt asked his fellow bishops in all five jurisdictions to suggest ways to deal with the new agency.

When the five colleges of bishops drafted their responses, the results looked as much like a slap at GBGM as a blow to the Mission Society.

The Southeastern Jurisdiction bishops stated that the new agency reflected the “deep and longstanding concern of many United Methodist people about parts of the philosophy, policy and program, and some of the personnel of the Board of Global Ministries, some of which concern we ourselves share.” The bishops added that they “opposed” the Mission Society, but “deplored” the circumstances that caused the alienation.

The South Central Jurisdiction bishops were equally forceful. “We call attention to prolonged efforts by various United Methodists to  secure serious consideration of a more representative mission program.” The South Central bishops did not condemn the new agency.

Meanwhile, the Mission Society is operating on $150,000 seed money raised by  sympathetic churches. The staff and board are finalizing goals and policies. Its first missionaries may be sent this summer.

 

 

Archive: Francis Asbury

Archive: 100th Birthday of E. Stanley Jones observed in Baltimore (1984)

100th Birthday of E. Stanley Jones observed in Baltimore

Good News

March/April 1984

Who was the most famous American missionary of this century? Which mainline church leader was popular enough to fill Madison Square Garden with his listeners eager to listen to him preach? What Methodist minister has associate with Gandhi, Nehru, and Roosevelt?

The answer, of course is E. Stanley Jones.

In his 60-year year career as missionary to India, writer of 28 popular books (two of which were million-sellers), and as a globe-trotting evangelist, Brother Stanley, as he liked to be called, made a vast impact upon his times.

On January 3 another crowd gathered because of Stanley Jones, this time to celebrate the 100th anniversary of his birth. The event was located in Jones’ native Baltimore. Sponsoring the celebration was United Christian Ashrams, founded by Jones to promote the Christian ashram concept – an India-style deeper life conference.

Retired UM Bishop James Matthews, husband of Jones’s daughter Eunice and head of the Ashram movement since Jones’s death in 1973, acted as master of ceremonies during the celebration.

The day started with a nostalgic expedition to the Clarksville farmhouse where Brother Stanley was born. The next stop was the Baltimore cemetery  where both Jones’s and his wife’s graves are located (within ten yards of Bishop Francis Asbury’s grave).

Jones first landed in India as a Methodist missionary in 1907, freshly graduated from Asbury College. All he had to prepare him for his task was utter dedication to God and a Hindustani grammar. It was enough.

By the 1920s Jones was breaking new ground in Indian United Christian Ashrams, evangelism by lecturing to great crowds of Hindu and Muslim intellectuals. Out of his experiences came his massively influential book, The Christ of the Indian Road.

All through his life, Jones broke the molds. He was solidly evangelical yet committed to radical social reform. He was spiritually minded, yet he kept his finger on world events. In a valiant six-month effort in 1941, he tried and actually came close to preventing war between the United States and Japan.

It’s no wonder that Time magazine in 1938 called him “the world’s greatest missionary.” Perhaps it is also appropriate to call him the century’s greatest Methodist.

Archive: Dr. Jesus Moves In At Atlanta’s Ben Hill Church

Archive: Dr. Jesus Moves In At Atlanta’s Ben Hill Church

Archive: Dr. Jesus Moves in at Atlanta’s Ben Hill Church

By James S. Robb
March/April 1984
Good News

If your soul is sick, maybe you’d better go see Dr. Jesus. That’s the advice they’re offering these days at Ben Hill United Methodist Church in Atlanta.

With the sanctuary jammed to capacity on a Sunday morning, the pastor, Dr. Cornelius Henderson, drives home the idea of Christ as the Great Physician.

“There is One who never makes an error,” asserts the preacher, “never has made an error, never will make an error – Dr. Jesus! I’m glad we’ve got a doctor like Jesus in the building right now.

“When it comes to sin and sickness, you just can’t heal yourself. Right now you can be healed in spirit, and soul, and body.”

Henderson thunders down his point, “Jesus is here right now.”

The membership at Ben Hill is expanding so fast the congregation recently doubled the size of its sanctuary.

Last May, the church brought in its 3,000th member, an enrollment 10 times the 1975 figure. That was the year Henderson came to Ben Hill as pastor. Previously he had been a staff expert on urban ministries for the General Board of Discipleship in Nashville.

For several years he had traveled around the country offering this simple formula for effective urban ministry: (1) “Keep Jesus Christ in the center of one’s ministry.” (2) “Love and serve the people and take advantage of a dedicated and committed laity.” (3) “Develop dynamic worship services that speak to a broad range of constituents in multiple services.”

Henderson came to Atlanta in 1975 intending to put these principles into practice.

One thing he learned at the board was to let his church be itself instead of trying to imitate the “majority culture.” He explains his idea on the subject. “We are committed to the United Methodist Church without apology. But a black tradition is also a part of our legacy that we do not ever intend to abandon.”

Sunday services at Ben Hill confirm the pastor’s words. The week Good News was there the 8:00 a.m. and 11:00 a.m. services together stretched out to four-and-a-half hours. There’s always something happening. The music and preaching dominate services. Numerous choirs (Ben Hill has 10 good ones) and instruments set the stage for worship. Nothing seems to be done in a hurry. And the people obviously love it.

Henderson has put his multiple services principle into use at Ben Hill. The early service is mainstream Wesleyan in its emphasis, the later service more freewheeling.

‘‘On any street corner in America, in any gathering of black people,” asserted Henderson, “94-99 percent of those people already [ consider themselves] Christians. If you ask them, they are not un-churched and they are not un-Christian.”

But Henderson notes that many of those people have no real Christian commitment. “I explain to them that going to a baseball stadium does not make you a baseball player any more than going to church makes you a Christian. One has to accept the Lordship of Christ and commit his or her life totally to him every day.”

The figure of Jesus

More than anything else Ben Hill is a Christ-centered church. From the music to the sermon and everything in between, the figure of Jesus dominates the worship. When Henderson read the vows of membership to the nine new persons joining the church the Sunday Good News was there, he left no doubt about where their loyalty should lie. After warmly embracing each one, he asked, “Will you be loyal to Jesus Christ? He’s first.”

Henderson says, “The black church as a whole is committed to the absolute sovereignty of the Lordship of Christ. As an ethnic group we particularly identify with the sufferings of Christ.” As a result, the monthly communion service is one of the best attended. “We identify with the suffering, with the blood, the atoning blood of Jesus Christ,” he explained.

Ben Hill Church is worth looking at for more than one reason. Obviously any congregation that can go from 300 to 3,000 members in eight years is doing a lot of things right. More amazing yet, the church experienced that growth after recovering from a near-complete “exodus of white Methodist Christians,” as Pastor Henderson describes the congregation’s changing ethnic makeup.

Perhaps most interesting is the speed with which Henderson has been able to attract the leaders of Atlanta into Ben Hill membership.

“We have in the congregation a number of persons I sometimes refer to as ‘magnetic evangelists,’” Henderson said. ‘‘These are persons that because of personality, because of the position they occupy in the city, because of the leadership role they play in Atlanta, they can attract and do attract other people.”

Among the prominent members at Ben Hill are Dr. Elias Blake, Jr., president of UM-related Clark College; James Q. Davis, vice-president of Georgia Power Company; Crawford Russell, retired Colonel, U.S. Army; Tom Cordy, president of the Atlanta Mechanical Contractors; and Carl Ware, the first black vice-president of the Coca-Cola Company.

“These are spirit-filled Christian men and women who have that kind of glow that Christ always gives,” Henderson said. “They in turn touch other persons.”

Leaders attract leaders. And Ben Hill, as a result, has become prime ground for bringing such people to Christ.

Traditionally, leaders of the black church have played leadership roles in their communities. Henderson continues this tradition. He is active in the Atlanta Urban League, the NAACP, the John Holland Boys’ Club, and other organizations.

He is also chairman of a group known as Concerned Black Clergy. “The name is extremely misleading,” he said, since both lay and clergy, blacks and whites are involved. The group’s aim is to provide food and shelter to those in need. They also have a program of career counseling.

From the pulpit Henderson sets the record straight about his beliefs on social action. “Pie in the sky is all right; but we need a chicken in the kitchen, and a ham where I am.” His involvement in Concerned Black Clergy and other civic groups is an expression of that conviction.

But he has another reason for his involvement. “The involvement of the black minister in the organizations of a given community is an indispensable tool for effective evangelism,” he said.

Even though his congregation is obviously prosperous, Henderson is the only full-time minister assigned to the church. However, he does have the assistance of nine part-time ministers, some of whom attend seminary in town.

For eight years, the United Methodist Church has given special attention to ethnic minority churches through the church-wide missional priority. Henderson thinks some new approaches must be tried if the denomination is to make real progress reaching the black community.

Henderson believes the key is to use methods tailored specifically for each group. “When you’re fishing,” he said, “you don’t fish for all fish with the same bait and in the same depths of water. I don’t think we’ve been intelligent, well, scientific enough in seeking to address the particular needs and likings and aspirations” of black men and women who need the Gospel.

“We need indigenous worship and indigenous leadership” he said. “We can’t expect folks to travel all across the city. If there are people in the ghetto who need the Lord Jesus Christ – and they do – then we have to provide ample opportunity.”

Henderson noted that poor people don’t always have “reliable transportation of their own” to get to church. Once they arrive, “they have to have something that is very accessible and it has to be on their level so they can understand, appreciate, and enjoy.”

He also believes minority clergy must be moved less frequently. “It is sometimes a bit difficult to maintain an image in the community and a position of stability if you’re only there a couple of years,” Henderson stated.

The large majority of pastors serving black UM congregations are still lay preachers. Henderson thinks these people need a great deal more affirmation and attention. “We cannot expect the [ordained] preacher to be the sole proclaimer of the Gospel of Jesus Christ,” he said. “The more people involved, the more quickly the message will be spread.”

No such trouble

“At the same time,” he cautioned, “I don’t want to get away from the support that is needed for the [ordained] pastors of churches that we already have. Because if these men and women are unhappy and underpaid, if the parsonages that exist for ethnic pastors aren’t drastically upgraded, then you are going to continue to reap a whirlwind of negativism.”

Fortunately there’s no such trouble at Ben Hill these days. Last year they burned the mortgage on the original sanctuary. They also built on the $500,000 addition and started adding their next 1,000 members.

And they heard a lot of great preaching.

“Is there no balm in Gilead?” Henderson paraphrased the old spiritual to his crowded congregation.

“If not in the church, where? God sent his Word as healing balm. The Lord’s drugstore is always open.”

He raises his voice. “Healing in the blood. Liberated by the blood of Jesus. But you have to come to the fountain to get it. Is there a physician there? – Dr. Jesus!”

When this article was published in 1984, James S. Robb was associate editor of Good News.

Endnote: Dr. Cornelius Henderson served the congregation at Ben Hill United Methodist Church in Atlanta twice: (1976-1986, 1992-1993). Under his leadership, the membership increased during his first tenure from 400 to over 4,500 members. During his second tenure as pastor the church membership later rose up to 16,700, making it at that time the largest predominantly African-American United Methodist congregation in the world. From 1993-1996, he was President/Dean of Gammon Theological Seminary before becoming the Resident Bishop of the Florida Annual Conference of The United Methodist Church. Bishop Henderson died in 2000 at the age of 66. He had been diagnosed with myeloma, the most common form of bone marrow cancer.