by Steve | Jul 3, 1982 | Archive - 1982
We talk about worship, but why do we worship and how?
Archive: In Quest of Worthwhile Worship
by Ben Patterson, Reprinted from The Wittenburg Door[1]
The Word of God has fallen on bad times. That statement is hardly news to anyone who, over the last decade, has cared about the subject. Nor should it be particularly surprising to those who, although not consciously occupied with it, have found themselves yawning through Sunday service after Sunday service, sensing something was wrong but hard pressed to say just what.
In most Protestant churches, the quality of preaching provides the most convenient scapegoat. One critic has described the church as a group of conventional people gathering each week to be addressed by a conventional little man who seeks to persuade them to be more conventional. That may be true, but I no longer believe that analysis is sufficient to explain why Christian worship has deteriorated.
A better clue to what has gone wrong with worship can be found, ironically, in the volume of materials that have come forth in the last decade to revitalize worship. In the vast majority of these, the effort has been directed toward making worship more contemporary and spontaneous, more focused on the experience of the worshiper. And the effect has been that of putting a cardiac patient on a high cholesterol, high salt diet. What caused the sickness in the first place is being prescribed as a cure. Tragically, at every point where Christian worship has ceased to be Biblical, we have offered non-biblical solutions.
But let me back up a bit and ask the question: what do we do when we worship God? Answer: we do essentially the same thing I did when I watched on television … a replay of the University of Southern California’s great 1974 victory over Notre Dame.
“But,” you protest, ”you knew everything that was going to happen!”
That is precisely the point. watch that game over and over again because I know what will happen. You do the same thing whenever you again tune in to your favorite television program. The outcome is never in doubt on Columbo or the Waltons. What you watch is the dramatization, in story form, of certain values about life and its meanings, its problems, and solutions. These programs are what some social analysts call ritual dramas. They reaffirm what we believe by telling a story.
Christian worship is ritual drama. The story of God’s mighty saving acts in Jesus Christ is once again retold in one way or another; our values and beliefs are held up and we respond by offering our thanks, our praise, and our obedience.
This scenario can be seen spectacularly reproduced in capsule form when John reports to us his vision of the heavenly worship in Revelation 5. The Lamb of God stands upon the throne of God surrounded by the 24 elders and “myriads of myriads and thousands of thousands” of angels. The apostle tells us he hears them singing a new song:
Worthy art Thou to take the scroll and to open its seals, for Thou wast slain and by the blood didst ransom men for God from every tribe and tongue and people and nation, and hast made them a kingdom and priests to our God, and they shall reign on earth (Revelation 5:9,10).
Then everyone shouts praise with a loud voice:
Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing! To Him who sits upon the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor and glory and might for ever and ever! (Revelation 5:12,13).
It’s all there: the story of what He has done, is doing, and will do; His atoning death and resurrection, His creation of the Church and His promised final victory over sin and death. It’s drama and praise, a story and accompanying thanksgiving.
And notice one fundamental reality of this heavenly worship. Who is putting on the drama? The Lamb or the congregation of elders and angels?
It is not the lamb, but rather the congregation. And this is the point that must be hammered home if we are to recover the meaning and vitality of Christian worship. Soren Kierkegaard saw it clearly when he said that on earth, as in heaven, God is the spectator, the audience, so to speak, and we are the performers, the players, the actors. Those who lead in worship are the prompters or directors. Together with the congregation, they retell the story, proclaim the message and offer their thanks, their praise, and their obedience.
Three great implications flow out of this text and this understanding of worship. The first has to do with the historical nature of worship.
God is a God of history. He is the one “who was and is and is to come” (Revelation 4:8). For this reason, truly Biblical worship must be an act of remembrance. Anamnesis is the Greek word translated “remembrance” in the New Testament text concerning the lord’s Supper. It means much more than a memorial, a jogging of the memory. It means to re-tell and re-present the story, to look back in present tense and give past realities present existence.
One of the great conceits of this generation is that it has little or no regard for history. The “now generation” sees the past as hopelessly archaic and as obsolete as it sees its elderly. The religious version of this attitude is the notion that God did nothing between the end of the first century and 1978.
So-called worship renewal efforts regularly capitulate to this aspect of the Zeitgeist[2] by ignoring the need to sensitize Christians to the fact that our God of history was alive and active in 417, 1143, and 1841 as well as now. To be Biblical, Christian worship must never tear itself from the great hymns and confessions of all the times and places of the church. To see worship renewal so overwhelmingly in terms of contemporaneity is to give it more of what made it sick.
The second implication has to do with preparation. If indeed we are the performers in worship, then we should come to worship prepared.
Imagine your chagrin if you paid $20.00 to hear Vladimir Horowitz play a piano concerto, and you arrived at the concert hall only to have him show up late and apologizing that he had not practiced much that week due to other pressures in his schedule, and expressing the hope that perhaps the relaxed spontaneity of an unrehearsed concert would be enjoyable to you.
How much more should Christ, who ransomed us with His blood, expect us not only to show up on time for our performance, but to have thought through carefully what we are going to do together? Again, so much current literature on the renewal of worship betrays a captivity to the myth of spontaneity, another article of faith for our generation. The myth is that if we could just dismantle structure, conventions, and traditions, we would be free, spontaneous, direct, and truly ourselves.
I must confess that, for me, this myth has great appeal. But it runs contrary to everything else we know in human experience. Ask the great achievers of history—the Platos, the Bachs, the Albert Einsteins—if their achievements had anything to do with spontaneity. They will answer that hard work, discipline, and self-denial had everything to do with it; spontaneity very little.
Not much that is worthwhile and substantial proceeds from mere spontaneity. Anyone who has thrilled to watch Nadia Comaneci perform on the parallel bars and the balance beam must admit this. The freedom and apparent spontaneity of her movement is the result of endless hours of austere discipline, both physical and emotional. Should it be any less so for the worship of God?
The technical word for the ceremonies and rituals that take place in the worship of a gathered religious community is “cult.” It comes from the Latin colo, which means to cultivate. What a rich image! The cultivation of soil and plants is to an exquisite Japanese garden what a quality cult is to a healthy Christian life. In both, hard work and much thought and discipline are the key, not mere spontaneity. …
The third implication has to do with the focus of worship. Christ stands at the center, not the congregation. The language of worship renewal belies the fact that it has missed this fundamental truth, too often referring to what happens on Sunday morning as a “worship experience.” The experience referred to is not how Christ has experienced our praise and thanksgiving, but how we, the so-called worshipers, have.
The question every Christian worshiper should ask on the way out to the parking lot each Sunday morning is not, “What did I get out of it?” but, “How did I do? ” We are the performers; God is the audience. Revelation 5:10 tells us that Christ has made us “priests to our God.” Priests perform tasks. Worship is a task.
But again, much of worship renewal has bowed to the spirit of the age and allowed itself to get trapped into a consumer approach to worship. The narcissism of our times has left its stamp on the church and many Christians come to worship drastically out of focus. There to “get religion” rather than to give adoration. But God is not there for our enjoyment, but for our obedience. Enjoyment comes later.
Solidly Christian worship will never come from a people who have the expectations of a consumer oriented, narcissistic, amorphously spontaneous “now generation.” The answer of our dead worship is not to try to worship God in the ways that have killed His worship. Rather, we must seek renewed minds as to why it is we worship, and what it is we do when we worship in the first place. Repentance and a renewed mind are what we need, not capitulation and a bastardized faith.
[1] used with permission from the April/May 1978 issue of the Wittenburg Door, San Diego, California. Ben Patterson was at that time a contributing editor of the publication.
[2] Spirit of the age in which we live.
by Steve | Jul 2, 1982 | Archive - 1982
Archive: Why I Stay within the UM Church
by Marti Bennett, Homemaker and UM Layperson Durham, North Carolina
As I considered joining the million or so Methodists who have exited before me, I began visiting (early service!) another denomination. This other denomination does not pulpit-pound hell-fire and damnation, but it does proclaim with profound certainty and dignity that there is sin, that I am afflicted with it, that I cannot avoid repentance by denying sin’s existence, that I am accountable—and whether or not I like it is entirely beside the point. Always balancing this proclamation is the equally profound and clear reassurance of a Redeemer who is worthy of the name.
In short, I have come face to face with a proclamation—without apology—of Law and Gospel. This seemed wistfully reminiscent. I re-read Romans and then I re-read John Wesley and then Albert Outler. To my amazement—I am a Methodist! However, I do have a problem: the United Methodist Church is not Methodist!
It seems John Wesley had a few ideas on sin himself. In fact, he went so far as to say that sin is the fundamental point which “differences Heathenism from Christianity” and that if you denied it “you were but a Heathen still.” Wesley went on to say that it was absurd to “offer a Physician to them that are whole—or at least imagine themselves to be … you are first to convince them that they are sick.”
Amazing to me that the Methodist clergy have not picked up on that! It seems to me we are getting more and more of the gospel that is no-gospel as stated by Richard Niebuhr: “A God without wrath who brought men without sin into a kingdom without judgment through the ministrations of a Christ without a Cross.” Can’t be done. But we seem to have a bunch of people trying!
Also, Outler is saying that the UM Church has moved so far to the “I’m O.K., You’re O.K. syndrome,” that we are dangerously close to, or have already embraced, the Pelagian heresy.[1] There seems to be more concern about this among the laity than among the clergy.
I have tried to figure out why this should be and then concluded that the liberal minister has a lot going for him. He does not rock the proverbial boat. The minister himself is in a tight political bind. (The layman is no fool—he understands that the minister knows a steady boat looks best on the records.) The liberal minister also tries to keep us comfortable. So we hear: “There is no real sin to worry about.” Or at least if there is, we’ll get it all out of the way in the Prayer of Confession. “There is no hell—so don’t worry about it.” We are all O.K., just different opinions. We do not have to take the Law seriously and can thereby avoid any radical change or commitment in our lives. We can be made whole by self-acceptance and self-realization through meaningful encounters and peak experiences. If we run into any trouble, be assured there are workshops and self-help kits available, complete with sub-numbers and sub-letters “ad nauseam. “It is all O.K. as long as we are comfortable,” says the liberal minister.
That is nice, but it just doesn’t work. As Outler says, there is just enough truth in that to make it a formidable lie.
It does not work because I am not O.K.; many of my friends are not O.K.; The United Methodist Church, in my opinion, is not O.K.! It is like trying to cure pneumonia with talcum powder. We are comforted for a while, but then the fever will win out. If we continue to insist on comfort and talc, then we die. We need radical treatment, unpleasant though it may be. For us to be truly O.K., the sinner must be called upon to repent. It is at this point, and only at this point, that the Gospel can work with its freedom and joy and vitality and assurance! It can’t and won’t work the other way around. Oh well–I have to be honest–I believe that Wesley did say that it just might work “one time out of a thousand—maybe.”
We have tension all right: between the liberals and the fundamentalists, between Good News and Methodist Federation for Social Action, and between the Biblicists and the form critics. However, the tension is in the wrong place. There must always be tension to effect change. If I recall my theology correctly, the tension should come between the Law and the Gospel. This is next to impossible these days since Law is being preached in very few places. No wonder anxiety exists. We are denying the fact that we are desperately ill and then wonder why we don’t get well. The church is trying to make us feel better without first making us well. Redemption cannot work without repentance.
I am called negative or judgmental when I mention the reality of sin. I am countered with: “Oh, but we must smile and be positive. Oh, you take yourself too seriously. Oh, we have to try new things. Oh, but we must do it this way—it works!” So does castor oil.
I cannot sit quietly watching millions leave the United Methodist Church, then hearing our leaders say, “O.K., let’s spend another few thousand for new brochures, new kits, new quadrennium slogans, more workshops, and see if we can’t find a solution to this thing.” We have the solution. The solution is Christ! We need to affirm Him, but the Gospel must be presented in the context of the problem He came to deal with—sin.
The UM Church is ready for what Outler calls the Third Great Awakening. I wonder if it must come from the laity rather than the clergy. I used to look askance at the congregation which always stirred up trouble with the district superintendent and the bishop asking for a “good preacher” who could meet their needs. Could this not be the way it must begin? The layman is beginning to be aware of his deep and desperate sickness—and this whether or not the clergy is brave enough to call it by its real name—sin. The layman is awakening to the knowledge that his health and his cure and his life depend upon a legitimate understanding of the disease—sin.
More and more we are uncomfortable with the “comfort” gospel of the liberals. I think that it is time to raise a holy indignation until we are sent clergy with the courage to preach the Gospel. If this pressure from the laity drives district superintendents and bishops and deans of seminaries crazy—so be it.
The alternative is infinitely and eternally worse. Even if the clergy do not believe in hell—I do. To paraphrase John Donne (he was no slack preacher himself!) hundreds of years ago: “When ye die and hills melt and flames lick at ye—what will ye then? Repent? Too late! Too late!” I was going to slip quietly away with the other million or so ex-Methodists, but I have discovered that I am a Methodist. I love the Wesleyan tradition of theology and evangelism, but I am disheartened at not finding much of it in the United Methodist system. I dream with Outler of a Third Great Awakening led by a courageous clergy. The laymen are waiting—but not too patiently
[1] Pelagian, a 4th century British monk, denied the doctrine of original sin. The free will of man, he maintained, was the same as Adams before the fall, capable of choosing good or evil. Wesley, on the other hand, stated that since the fall, the moral image of God in man had been marred, carried down through all mankind, for all were in the loins of Adam when he sinned. In his writings, Wesley characterized the transmission of original sin as a disease. His emphasis was on the fact that this is true and not on how this is true; it is a matter of faith about a doctrine discerned from Biblical evidence. Thus, man is only “free” to do evil, not good; man is not even able to will good on his own, only by the grace of God (prevenient grace) available to all.
by Steve | Jul 2, 1982 | Archive - 1982
Archive: Why We Came Back to the UM Church
by Kenneth and Elizabeth Borcher Milan, West Milan, Dummer UM Churches, New Hampshire Conference, Milan, New Hampshire
We had had it. Several years of struggle and disappointment with the United Methodist Church had finally come to a head. Nearly every year since 1974, my wife, Liz, and I had prayed for guidance and contemplated leaving the UM Church. In January of 1979 we knew that the time had come to get off the seesaw of indecision and make the break we had long been threatening to do. We could no longer compromise our evangelical beliefs.
Our Bethlehem New Hampshire Church was becoming more and more immersed in the charismatic experience; even our Sunday morning worship service had departed from the traditional and was evolving into a pentecostal happening. Because of this, there was hurt and alienation taking place between traditionalists and charismatics. Fracture of some degree was beginning within the congregation even though there was unprecedented growth occurring in the church. This seemingly growing division, and our dissatisfaction with the UM Church as a denomination (on the national as well as the conference level), a long with a surging desire to be in a totally pentecostal-charismatic atmosphere, led us finally to make our break. I withdrew my full-conference membership and united with the ordained ministry of a pentecostal denomination.
We left our UM churches in March of 1979 and moved to Vermont to begin our new ministry. “There,” I said to Liz, “that takes care of that; no more liberalism. We’re done with Methodism; and now we will have complete freedom to worship the Lord the way we really want to!”
At the time of our leaving the UM Church, many people had lovingly tried to dissuade us. My parents were deeply concerned about our leaving, and for awhile it created a great rift between my father and me. Dad believed so strongly in renewal taking place within our UM structure, and that love was the most important tool of evangelism. However, I turned a deaf ear to those who pleaded with us not to go.
The grass looked so green beyond the UM Church. We thought everything would just fall into place. We poured ourselves into new ministry and found great enjoyment for a time in the pentecostal environment. But, to my great dismay, I found that every situation and denomination has its restrictions and controls, and that true freedom comes only in Jesus Christ, not through a particular set of circumstances.
We encountered restrictions and divisions of a different kind than in the UM Church. We saw jealousy, envy, lack of forgiveness, spiritual pride concerning spiritual gifts and the baptism of the Holy Spirit, and extreme legalism. We had thought that these things would not be so prevalent in a church where the majority were born-again Christians. We felt these problems as binding on the work of the Holy Spirit as the differences between traditionalists and charismatics in our former UM churches.
We were surprised to find that the grass is not necessarily greener over there. Every church and denomination has its own ways of binding the Spirit and grieving our Lord, including evangelical and pentecostal denominations whose sins may be less obvious than those of our mainline churches. Along with the more visible sins of “lustful pleasure, idolatry, spiritism (that is, encouraging the activity of demons) … murder, drunkenness, wild parties …” the Bible lists the sins of “hatred and fighting, jealousy and anger, constant effort to get the best for yourself, complaints and criticisms, the feeling that everyone else is wrong except those in your own little group …” (Galatians 5:19-21 L.B.). Sins are not identified as greater and lesser; each separates us from God, even from inheriting the Kingdom.
In the past we had always exhorted evangelical people who were involved in the church prayer group to stay within the UM Church, to continue their witness there. Now we were the ones in another denomination. We began to recall the faces of lay persons all over the conference whose lives had touched ours. We remembered our Good News article of 1976 encouraging United Methodists to “hang in there.” We had shared the same message on the PTL Club in November of 1977. Many United Methodists responded that in both cases our testimony had given them new hope and encouragement to remain and stand strong in their UM churches. We began to be homesick for the New Hampshire Conference, even though we did not fully understand our vacillating feelings after having cut the cord from Methodism.
At the same time the Holy Spirit began to convict me of other concerns. As I studied the Word of God, I saw time after time where God’s people had stood steadfast in very difficult situations and had maintained a powerful witness: Joseph in Egypt, Daniel in Babylon, Jesus, Peter, and Paul in the New Testament. I recalled the stoning of Stephen, and one thing became very obvious. These people of God had overwhelming love for others in the midst of circumstances. I could see the resentment, judgmentalism, and self-righteousness that had crept into my relationships to fellow UM pastors and laypersons. By the time we had left the UM Church, I, especially, was infected with some attitudes and feelings that in no way gave glory to the Lord.
We saw that stepping from pluralism to strict doctrine does not necessarily bring greater ease in articulating the Gospel. We began classifying Christians within the Body of Christ: those who had the Holy Spirit and those who did not; those who spoke in tongues and those who did not. The Lord convicted us of our lack of love and began a painful process of spiritual surgery, totally without anesthesia.
I came close to leaving the ministry altogether at this time. I experienced a tremendous struggle as I realized what had happened to my Christian life. The Lord burst my pipe dreams of greatness one by one.
In looking back at the UM Church, we found that we missed the creeds and traditional hymns. Yes, we even missed the formal worship setting, the joy and balance in both formal and free forms of worship. We missed, too, the influence of traditionalists and non-charismatics who had kept us on our toes in articulating our evangelical stand and who reminded us of other dimensions of our Christian faith.
During this time of spiritual surgery we were lifted up in prayer and love by many people. God knew our need for support and love in the agony of realizing that we had to go back. He appointed my brother Ray, and his wife, Violet, of the Bethlehem UM Church to the special ministry of standing beside us, encouraging and loving us, both as we left the UM Church and as we returned, even though they were deeply hurt by our decision to leave.
In asking if we could return to the New Hampshire Conference we felt quite embarrassed and a little afraid of the reception and criticism we would receive. However, we knew that part of growing is a willingness to admit where you are, whatever the consequences. A warm and positive response from our district superintendent was followed by the possibility of a three-point charge being open in six weeks, the only appointment left in our conference.
Since I had withdrawn my conference membership (I had been ordained elder in 1974), I had to begin the long process of reentry. I met with the District Committee of the Board of Ordained Ministry and then weeks later with the Conference Board of the Ordained Ministry. The results of these meetings determined whether or not I would receive an appointment. We experienced overwhelming love and affirmation during the whole process from the bishop, superintendents, pastors, and lay people. Much reconciliation took place as I let go of my judgmentalism. The day after the meeting with the Conference Board of the Ordained Ministry, we moved to our new appointment to the Milan, West Milan, and Dummer UM Churches, in northern New Hampshire. I served as a local pastor until May of 1980 when my elder’s orders and full-conference membership were restored by unanimous vote of the New Hampshire Annual Conference.
For the first time in my ministry of 13 years I have found lasting joy and peace. I am content to minister in a rural setting to small churches. God is working in our three churches in ways we had never experienced, with significant growth taking place. Many people are turning to Jesus Christ, growing in His love, and bearing witness to the fruit and gifts of the Holy Spirit. We rejoice most in the holistic atmosphere under which charismatics, non-charismatic evangelicals, traditionalists, and those who feel called to a special ministry of social action have found harmony with a foundation on the Word of God. We keep the Sunday morning service more formal, while encouraging a vibrant and open Tuesday evening prayer and praise meeting—rather than forcing a particular style of worship in every area of church life. We are content to let the Holy Spirit work as He will. As I become involved in conference work once again I also find that the evangelical witness of several years is bearing fruit in many ways.
By returning to the UM Church we are not saying we agree with everything which is said and done by the general church and its boards and agencies. We believe that the Biblical foundations of the UM Church which were built by John Wesley and other early Methodists provide an important balance between the personal and social gospels which must be maintained today.
As we reflect on the events of leaving and returning to the UM Church, Liz and I affirm them as a time of great growth in our Christian walk. The surgery was painful, but necessary, and the Lord strengthened us in it.
In no way do we want to cast an ill light on Pentecostalism, for it has reminded the mainline denominations not to forget the very important work of the Holy Spirit. We do not deny that God may legitimately lead a person out of one denomination into another setting. But, how will the Holy Spirit work in the United Methodist Church unless there are vessels willing to sacrifice their own hearts’ desires and serve Him?
Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things (I Corinthians 13:4-7 R.S.V.).
by Steve | Jul 1, 1982 | Archive - 1982
Archive: Why I Left the UM Church
by William David Epps, Minister of Outreach, First Assembly of God and Campus Minister, Mesa College, Grand Junction, Colorado
Without question my decision to leave the United Methodist ministry was the most important decision I have ever made in my professional career … and by far the most difficult. My early childhood memories include a Sunday school class at the little neighborhood Methodist church (not United back then) where a portly, white-haired lady would delight in telling various Bible stories to the enraptured children gathered around her feet.
My youth and teen years were full of hayrides, church softball teams, passing notes and giggling in church, often boring UMYF programs, and tremendously uplifting spiritual retreats in the area mountains. All these were years of satisfaction and contentment as I pondered just who God really was and the significance He had for me. The teen years ended in the madness and nightmare of the Vietnam era. The aloofness in which I had held God did not suffice for this young frightened Marine who was learning the ways of adulthood–how to slash with a bayonet, to destroy with an M-16, to learn the ways of death.
One lonely humid night, I turned to a passage in a tract given to me by a Navy chaplain and found the words of Isaiah 41:10. Earlier in the day, I had cried to God for some assurance of His presence, of His reality. Now the words leaped from the page, “Fear thou not, for I am with thee. Be not dismayed, for I am thy God. I will strengthen thee, yea, I will help thee, yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.” There, away from home, with no church, no pew, no pulpit, no preacher, a young United Methodist became a Christian. My attitude was new, my heart light. Deep within me was the certain knowledge that I must share this Jesus, whom I now knew, with others who would listen.
Time passed and my service in the Marine Corps came to a long anticipated conclusion. University studies and work on my license to preach began. School years were hard but happy. I served in local churches working with children and young people. The day came when I was assigned to pastor a small rural church whose people were delightful. I endeavored to teach them what little I knew about the ways of God and, in turn, they responded in love and a great abundance of patience. They grew; I grew. Then I was transferred.
All went well outwardly for the next couple of years, but the more time passed, the more I read, the more I studied and learned, the more disturbed and unsettled I became. What was it that was beginning to create turmoil in my spirit? What was it that would eventually bring me to the determination that I must leave the United Methodist pulpit, the pulpit that I had dreamed of occupying for so many years?
— Perhaps it was when I realized that all church members aren’t Christians and don’t intend to be.
— Perhaps it was when I noticed that the amount of apportionments paid appeared to have a greater priority than the winning of new converts.
— Perhaps it was when I detected that pluralism meant that liberals advance and that evangelicals are often farmed out to charges where their influence would be minimal.
— Perhaps it was when I saw that ministers who come to ministers’ meetings wear masks concealing their real selves, that they segregate themselves according to the seminary attended or the types of churches pastored, that even ministers are not above petty gossip and undercutting other ministers who appear to have more success than themselves.
— Perhaps it was when I first heard that our UM Church, my church, was considering the ordination of homosexuals in vivid violation of God’s Word.
— Perhaps it was when I discovered that even a great many pastors did not believe in the fundamentals of Scriptural teachings.
— Perhaps it was when I read reports that my denomination seemed to be siding with Marxist-terrorists in Africa.
— Perhaps it was when I found that many ministers, including those of various minorities, seemed to be more interested in proclaiming their own particular rights than proclaiming the Good News of Jesus Christ.
Or perhaps much of the problem was local, rather than denominational, even in my own parish and family. Indeed, several incidents that occurred had a definite bearing on my decision to vacate the pulpit. Like the time I came home to find my wife in tears because a trusted church member with whom my wife had shared deep, confidential information had broken trust and informed others of the concerns my wife had revealed.
Then there was the time I had requested an increase in travel allotment, after gas prices had doubled, only to be told, “Preacher, you’re just going to have to learn to manage your checkbook better.” Or the time I had spent 72 hours at the hospital without sleep or food at the bedside of a critically injured child who was not expected to live only to return to my parish to learn that a trusted board member had been visiting members of the congregation and complaining that I, as pastor, “never visited” the sick and shut-ins. The child, by the way, lived and gave his heart to Christ in the hospital.
Or perhaps it was when I saw young Jesus people, new converts, and charismatics, who once were full of life and vigor lose their enthusiasm as church leaders discouraged their interaction in the services. Though a very hard thing for me to do, I assisted these new converts in finding fellowship elsewhere. Perhaps it was when I discovered that at that time, in my area, to support Good News, conservative seminaries, or the charismatic renewal was tantamount to cultism, in the views of many, both ministers and laity.
Perhaps it was having few or no close friends, no sense of intimacy. Or maybe it was none of these factors. In reality, perhaps the problems were within me: my inexperience, my frustrations, my lack of knowledge, my lack of understanding and patience. Or maybe it was a combination of all these factors.
Why did I not share my questions and confusions with others? Fear, I suppose. I had already learned through a series of broken confidences that it is not wise for a pastor to share too much of his personal life with his congregation. My district superintendent sensed something was wrong and attempted to bring my feelings out in the open, but I always knew that this man who was asking me to bare my soul was the same man who would chart my life with his influence in pastoral appointments. And, after all, would it really solve anything (at least that was my attitude). Other ministers? The two ministers I spoke with had similar feelings and confusions and one of those later vacated his own pulpit. (I didn’t confer with my liberal brethren.)
For weeks I prayed and wept and sought answers: “But Lord, this is the church of my childhood. I have worked, studied, and suffered to be able to stand in this pulpit!”
Ultimately, the decision was mine. In late January of 1977, on a dark and bitterly cold night, I picked up the telephone and dialed my district superintendent and resigned. After the deed was done, I hung up the telephone, put on my coat and walked the mile to my church. I wandered through the Sunday school rooms, shot basketball in the parking area, strolled through the old cemetery, and stood for a long time looking at the stars. Re-entering the building, I walked down the aisle, looking at each pew, remembering each one who would sit there come Sunday morning. I picked a few tunes on the piano and then stood behind the pulpit for the last time. Finally, in the darkened sanctuary, I fell at the altar and cried all night long.
Many would not understand and I’m not certain I fully understood either. Some ministers would see me as a traitor and some members would suspect that I had rebelled against God. But others would stand by, not really caring about the rightness or wrongness, but would concern themselves with my spiritual welfare and the welfare of my family.
As I reflect upon all this five years later, I truly believe that, for me, to have remained would have meant spiritual disaster. Others have fared quite well. I did—and do—believe that the UM Church, the church of my childhood, is in serious trouble. Many social, political, and Scriptural questions have yet to be resolved. Membership has been eroding at a dramatic rate. But there is hope. I see hope in the United Methodist grassroots evangelical groups, in the Good News influence, in the charismatic renewal. But most of all there is hope in the God who spoke to man, including the young Marine years earlier, and promised to strengthen, to uphold, and to never, never give up. In Him lies any and all hope we may have for the questions, for the confusion, and for the future of Methodism, of Man, and of the World.
by Steve | May 12, 1982 | Archive - 1982
Archive: Conversions Spell Real Growth
North Georgia Conference gets back to the basics in evangelism.
by Gus Gustafson, Executive Director, Georgia Laity Board of Renewal
The evangelism thermometer in the North Georgia Conference of the United Methodist Church keeps going up and up.
An observation by a Dunwoody, Georgia, layman helps explain this upward trend. Speaking from a background of being a high official in one of the nation’s large chemical companies, corporate merry-go-round living in many parts of the U.S., and a life-long Methodist, he said: “I’m glad to see the United Methodist Church get back to basics.”
Quizzing him, I discovered that he was referring to an experience in his local church, the Kingswood UM Church. Then, this explanation:
“I had just about dropped out of the church until we moved here. My wife happened to get into the Ichthys Sunday School Class. She told me about the excitement of that group. I tried it out.
“There I heard talk about commitment to Jesus Christ. People were sharing what He does in their lives. Christ was held out as a resource for everyday living. That kind of experience put me back on the track; it made my faith come alive. That’s what I call ‘back-to-basics.’ ”
Encouraged by Bishop Joel D. McDavid, “back-to-basics” is catching on all across Georgia Methodism. Last fall he held seven evangelism rallies, four in North Georgia and three in South Georgia Conferences. In North Georgia, they were attended by 1,513 preachers and key lay people involved in evangelism. These North Georgia rallies are being followed up by District Evangelism Seminars for preachers.
Dr. Hoyt Purcell, evangelism staff member on the Conference Council of Ministries, reports that seminars already have been held in six districts. Two more are on the calendar and four yet to be scheduled this year. Presently he is working on church growth with 15 different congregations ranging from small rural to large metro.
The results of evangelism efforts in North Georgia are impressive. Over the last three years of record, 1978-1980, there are net gains in every category of church growth. Transfers to and from other UM churches showed a net gain of 4,062; to and from other denominations a new gain of 4,947; and an important 2,697 net gain of confessions of faith (historically, conversions) after subtracting charge conference removals. After deducting loss by deaths, it all adds up to a total net gain of 1,766 members in 1980 and 3,745 for the three years.
What’s back of this steady surge of evangelistic effort in North Georgia? Answers to the question vary. One of the first offered is the succession of evangelism-minded bishops, first Bishop William R. Cannon and now Bishop McDavid.
Looking at North Georgia Conference records, it becomes clear that generally a church with a number of confessions of faith is a growing church. By and large, the growing church will show a 25 to 50 percent growth, resulting in confessions of faith. Across the conference, growing churches outstrip the losers 320 to 210, with 80 showing no gain or loss.
Another answer, which may surprise some, is excited lay people. This encouraging answer means that more and more preachers are inspired by what they see Christ doing in their own lives and in the lives of people around them. This enthusiasm spreads from the pastor and catches on. One person summed it all up by saying, “The Holy Spirit is moving.”
Gary Fuller, teacher of the 100-member Ichthys class of Kingswood UM Church, illustrates: “I feel the Lord has called me to serve Him through the United Methodist Church. He uses me to teach. He blesses my effort in helping strengthen His Body, the Church.”
One minister gives this encouraging answer:
“Our lay people spread the Good News to others out in the community, bringing unchurched people into the fellowship of our church.” Those words describing the aroused spirit of large numbers of North Georgia laity come from Grafton Pressley, pastor of the Norcross First UM Church. In 1980 they led the conference with 80 people added on confession of faith, a big 44 percent of their net growth of 180 in 1980. Confessions of faith are one of the big sources of Norcross’ four-year record of growth from 922 in 1978 to 1600 by the end of January 1982!
“Only 15 out of our 80 came from our church school. We need to increase this number, but the rest are unchurched youth and mostly adults of various ages coming from the ‘highways and byways’ of life,” explains Pressley.
“Unless we bring into our fellowship people who were uncommitted to Jesus Christ,” Pressley continues, “we are pretty much playing a church game of musical chairs where people simply change seats from one church to another. This is not expanding the Body of Christ. The bottom line of our ministry is real growth.
“And, that’s why I’m so strong on the small caring groups we have in our church. Meeting in the homes throughout the community and in the church, they are the power cells for bringing in the unchurched and assimilating them into our fellowship.”
Then comes his exclamation point: “We have a well-organized visitation program—and it’s important—but that’s not the source of the bulk of our growth. It comes from those joyful, small-group people telling their friends at work, in the neighborhood, at the party, or in the marketplace about their discovery of a life-support system; yes, even life-lifting. That’s how the unchurched find their way into our Body and to the altar.”
“We support our out-in-the-world missioners with warm and available worship services and Sunday school classes. We now have three Sunday morning services and two church school sessions, with 15 adult classes. This gives us a current average of 800 total for the three celebrations and 600 in Sunday school, all steadily moving upward. Then, too, we have a Sunday evening gathering with attendance of 150-200. At every service, the entire congregation warmly shares in a close-knit family-of-God feeling. All this is reflected in our budget. For 1982 we budgeted $357,000; pledges totaled $390,000. In January ’82 we received $10,000 over our budgetary requirements.”
Norcross First Church started their plans for accelerating small group ministries early in 1979. Spearheading their program, they put on a Discipleship Celebration weekend, a program offered by the UM Board of Discipleship. At the close of the weekend 53 adults and 19 youth made commitments to Christ and a program of discipleship. Their “power cells” came alive. Within two weeks after the celebration, nine caring groups were begun.
Sardis UM Church in the Gainesville district, and numerous other churches that could be spotlighted, attest that the sweeping spirit of evangelism is not limited to urban churches. So-called smaller churches, including country churches, are barely touched.
Dennis Duncan, chairman of the Administrative Board of Sardis UM Church, a country church between Buford and Gainesville, reports, “For as long as I can remember, we were a church on a two-point circuit. Our membership hung around 85. Back in 1978, encouraged by Wallace Wheeles, our pastor at that time, we held a Lay Witness weekend. That got us started, and new people came. Reconciliation within the church took place. Relationships were healed. People were born again. Many renewed their commitments to Christ. Out of it, our membership and church attendance grew. Our faith was recharged and we got busy for the Lord.”
Then he sums up the good news: ‘Today our membership is 130 and 65 percent of our members attend regularly. We now have our own pastor and have built a new parsonage. We’re a joyful church, praising the Lord for the way He’s using us in building His Church.”
It was my privilege to coordinate the Sardis ’78 Lay Witness Mission. Out of it comes this vibrant experience: Friday night of the mission, Mrs. Veda Buffington and her two children attended. They were unchurched, in fact, rather anti-church. Out of curiosity, they came after hearing something unusual was going on at Sardis. On Saturday night Veda brought her husband, Bob. Sunday the family was at the altar responding to the call, “I will give as much of myself as I can to as much of God as I understand.”
Two years later I received a phone call: ‘This is Bob Buffington. Remember me? I’m now Chairman of our Council of Ministries. Our church would like to have a Venture in Discipleship weekend. [Another program offered by UM Board of Discipleship.] Could you come back and coordinate it?”
Sardis, pulsating with new life, will soon go the next mile in their renewal and discipleship experience.
Norcross and Sardis are only two of scores of churches using Lay Witness programs to launch spiritual growth. In 1977, the UM Board of Discipleship (BOD) scheduled only four lay missions in Georgia. The number has steadily increased to 40 in 1981! Vance Archer of BOD reports that over 60 Georgia churches recently requested information on lay renewal programs. Winds of renewal are blowing in North Georgia.
Bishop McDavid, a booster for Lay Witness weekends, as well as all forms of lay involvement for church outreach, says, “Lay renewal is at a high level all across Georgia. It does much to power the evangelistic thrust.”
This is especially true among men in the North Georgia Conference. Ken Weatherford, National President of the United Methodist Men comments, “North Georgia United Methodist Men are on the move, evangelistically. They witness in their homes, work, church, and mission/work teams. The number of first-time commitments to Jesus Christ among North Georgia UMM grows year after year.”
North Georgia United Methodist Men’s annual retreat attracted 1,700 in 1981. Moved by great evangelistic preaching, from the Bishop, Charles Allen, Cornelius Henderson, Mark Rutland, and other inspired leaders, more than 300 men made first-time commitments to Jesus Christ.
The North Georgia UM Men adopted a budget of over $95,000 to support their work. This includes 15 or more planned mission/witness work teams going to Mexico, Guyana, Haiti, Antigua, and possibly British Honduras. Also, they are sending and supporting a full-time missionary couple to Mexico. From this retreat experience the renewed men fan out across North Georgia, infectiously spreading the enthusiasm of their faith throughout the conference. “The sharp increase in the number of people received on confession of faith (after deducting removals)—going from 512 in 1978 to 1,311 in 1980—is the most exciting thing on the evangelism front in North Georgia,” says Bishop McDavid. “Camp meetings, Lay Witness weekends, revivals, the Men’s Retreat, and more and more local church ministers are reporting new and renewed commitments to Jesus Christ. In my book, that’s the church’s first priority. It’s evangelism!
“We have a long way to go,” the Bishop cautions, “but we’re off to a good start. We believe that’s ‘back-to-basics,’ as described by the Kingswood layman. That’s what we’re trying to do.”
Editor’s Note: Hearing about the evangelistic happenings in the North Georgia Conference, we asked Gus Gustafson, author of forthcoming book, I Was Called … To Be A Layman, being published by Abingdon, to give us a report. Gus is a North Georgia layman, delegate to the 1980 General Conference, Executive Director of Georgia laity Board of Renewal, Lay Witness coordinator, District Lay Leader, and Chairman of Evangelism in his local church. Rejoice with us about this good news on evangelism in North Georgia.
