by Steve | Nov 4, 1986 | Archive - 1986
Archive: The Great Miracle
By James S. Robb
Having trouble believing in miracles?
Here’s one that will give your faith a shot in the arm.
These are not easy days to be a Christian. The prevailing wisdom tells us Christianity is mostly nonsense. Although there are a great number of believers in the U.S., those who do not believe are less likely than ever before to agree with our basic world view. Thus, we Christians often feel like strangers in our own land.
Still, many (perhaps most) skeptics agree with Christians on two basic points. First, that there is a God (nine out of ten Americans accept this). And second, that God relates enough to humanity to hear and understand our prayers (a majority of Americans pray regularly).
After accepting these concepts, however, unbelievers may not agree with much else. The biggest sticking point is miracles. We moderns are scientific. Carl Sagan tells us the cosmos does not need God to create or sustain the world. Philosophers assure us the universe is a closed system, with outside intervention impossible or pointless. Thought leaders such as journalists and scholars will hardly bother to argue the point. Viewed through non-Christian eyes, miracles are definitely kaput.
This scorn is bad enough corning from outsiders, but hoards of ministers and seminary professors side with the doubters. Worse, they have imported secular skepticism right into the heart of the faith. We are told most ancient writers, including the Biblical ones, made up miracles to bolster their cases. Or that miracles such as the resurrection of Christ were never meant to be taken literally. Rather, they are beautiful, though fictitious, symbols of God’s love.
No one should underestimate the destructive power this doubt has had upon the Christian faith in our time. The difference between Moses parting the Red Sea and merely leading his followers over a shallow marsh is staggering. For many Christians the question is no longer whether a single miracle did or did not occur, but whether miracles can occur.
Such loss of faith has built the liberal wing of Christianity. For liberalism is, at root, little more than an attempt to form a faith which needs no supernatural intervention—miracles. Not surprisingly, liberal Christianity is in serious decline. What young person would be attracted to a faith which teaches that its holy book is unreliable and that its deity is no more powerful than the people in the pew?
What does all this have to do with evangelical believers, you might ask? We certainly affirm that God can perform miracles and that He does so with some regularity.
Yet, we are creatures of our time. We have no automatic immunity to modern thinking. Moreover, a little incredulity is a good thing. When someone tells us God “healed” their automobile (i.e., a minor problem cleared up), we often have mental reservations. But healthy questioning can drift to serious doubt. We are not above looking for a natural explanation for miracles described in the Bible. (Was Jesus the first hypnotist, healing with the power of suggestion?) Sometimes in our insecurity we even wonder, Could the liberals be partly right?
This creeping agnosticism can make life very unpleasant. Reading the Bible can lose its relish (who knows what really happened?). Praying can become torture (for God to do anything would require a miracle). More than any of this, how can you worship Jesus when you are unsure He ever left the tomb? Without miracles, our faith cannot stand.
Is help available, other than pious injunctions to try harder and be stronger? I think so.
Doubt about the reality of miracles has been an unwanted part of my Christian life. For several years, therefore, I have been looking for proof that miracles really happen. I decided if I could ever find a miracle which could not be mistaken for anything else, it would solve my dilemma. I would then know that miracles occur because I would have found one.
Recently I found it, and it was right under my nose. I discovered not just an authentic miracle, but what I now call The Great Miracle.
Think back to what I said nearly every American can affirm. Namely, that there is a God and that He hears our prayers. Christians of every theological stripe (and even many nonbelievers) accept this.
If you are among them, do you know what you’ve assented to? You have just affirmed your faith in The Great Miracle. Let me explain.
There are five billion human beings living on our planet. More than a billion of these claim to be Christians. Perhaps 500 million of these actually practice their faith. This means they pray.
Would it be an exaggeration to suggest that at least 500 million Christian prayers are said each day? Maybe you’re picky as to what kind of prayer God will hear. Cut the number down to 100 million if you wish.
All right. You’ve already conceded the key points. God exists. He hears our prayers. So refer to the little drawing I have made and figure out how God is supposed to hear and assimilate 100 million conversations a day. That’s 4 million an hour, 70,000 a second!
The ability to hear 4 million prayers every hour impressed me a great deal more than feeding 5,000 men or giving sight to one malformed set of eyes. For me, The Great Miracle settles once and for all the question of Christ’s resurrection. If God has the desire and power to do the one, surely He is capable of doing the other.
The Bible doesn’t drag out the arithmetic of God hearing prayers the way I have, but Jesus did urge His disciples to pray. Paul recommended we “pray without ceasing”—need I explain the logistical complications for God in that? The news gets better. According to Jesus, God not only hears the 100 million prayers a day, He meticulously answers them.
Should any of this surprise us? Not really. There is nothing odd about a deity acting divine. The only strange thing I can discern is that so many of our contemporaries believe in God without granting Him any godly powers. Christianity, miracles and all, is either true or it is not. Halfway houses of partial belief make much less sense than either orthodox faith or atheism. Let’s be consistent. Since we are already convinced about God’s reality, miracles are a cake walk.
When people who affirm God but deny miracles challenge your faith, remember that it is they, not you, who are on shaky ground. You’re just giving God His due.
Cherish the Great Miracle as you talk to your Maker today. Remember that even as God bends His ear close to your lips, weighing each syllable, so He does also for countless others that very hour. It is with good reason we call Him the God of Miracles.
by Steve | Nov 3, 1986 | Archive - 1986
Archive: My Dog the Methodist
by William Willimon
The idea everyone is talking about
At the United Methodist Church’s most recent General Conference, we voted to make nine million new United Methodists by 1992. Southern Baptists scoffed; how could a denomination that has managed to lose about 65,000 members every year somehow come up with many millions of Methodists in the next few years? Last year we couldn’t even find more than 200,000 new Methodists. So where do we expect to find the other nine million?
In four years at my previous parish—despite my earnest efforts to apply the principles of the Church Growth Movement—I found only about 150 new United Methodists, and some of them weren’t any better at being Methodist than they were being Baptist or Presbyterian or whatever they were before I found them.
Then in the course of my scholarly duties, I came upon a brilliant but neglected monograph by Charles M. Nielsen of Colgate-Rochester Divinity School titled Communion for Dogs. Building upon the groundbreaking work of Peter Singer’s Animal Liberation (Avon, 1977) and basing his thesis on all sorts of footnotes from Biblical, patristic, medieval and Reformation sources, Dr. Nielsen makes a convincing argument that dogs should be admitted to the Lord’s Table in reformed churches:
Reformed churches used to stress discipline, but now it is clear that we train our dogs far better than we train our children. … They are loyal, adorable, loving and caring, and clearly should be allowed to receive communion.
It is fair to say that Communion for Dogs gives all dogs a new leash on life, so to speak.
Being a Methodist, my concern is not who should come to the Lord’s Supper (which we don’t celebrate that often, anyway) but where in the world we expect to find nine million new members. But after reading Nielsen, I knew: right in my own home, sleeping even now in my garage, is a willing convert—Polly, a black terrier of uncertain parentage and quixotic disposition.
All over this fair nation there are many millions of Polly’s compatriots who have been neglected, ignored and even scorned by evangelistic efforts. Yet they already possess all of the characteristics for membership in one of today’s most progressive denominations: openness, spontaneity, affirmation, inclusiveness, love, righteous indignation, sexual freedom, gut reactions.
Here are our nine million new Methodists!
Why has the Christian church heretofore overlooked dogs as fit recipients of the Good News? The answer is simple: bigotry, close-mindedness and prejudice. No doubt many of you immediately call to mind Revelation 22:15, which lists those who are refused admission into the eternal bliss of heaven: “Outside are the dogs and sorcerers and fornicators and murderers and the idolaters …”
But what does that prooftext prove? I’ve served churches where murderers may have been scarce, but fornicators were not. Besides. we have learned to jettison so much of Scripture with which we don’t agree. why should we preserve the obviously anti-canine sentiments of Revelation 22:15?
All Scripture must be read by dog lovers with a “hermeneutics of suspicion”: the Bible simply gives dogs a bad rap. Even though Genesis 9:8-10 asserts that covenant is established “with every living creature … and every beast of the earth…, all that comes out of the ark,” traditional exegesis has acted as if every beast and creature were on the ark except for Polly’s ancestors. If her ancestors hated water as much as Polly does, I can assure you that no ark would have left port without dogs on board.
You will no doubt say that this anti-canine prejudice merely reflects the culture-bound nature of Scripture and that we have at last overcome the bias. Don’t be so sure! When Billy Graham preached at our chapel last year. I asked him how many dogs he had converted. This man-who has gone to the ends of the earth to preach-looked at me as if I were crazy. I guess that I shouldn’t have expected better of someone who admires the likes of Charles G. Finney, who wrote in his Lectures on Revivals of Religion:
People should leave their dogs and very young children at home. I have often known contentions arise among dogs … just at that stage of the services, that would most effectually destroy the effect of the meeting …. As for dogs, they had infinitely better be dead. than to divert attention from the word of God.
Even the so-called Inclusive Language Lectionary—while making such a fuss over the sexism and patriarchal nature of Scripture and going to such extreme efforts to delete it from the hearing of modern, more enlightened Christian congregations—totally ignores the Bible’s anti-canine bias. The Inclusive Language Lectionary prides itself on its reworking of such passages as Hebrews 11 to read: “By faith Abraham [and Sarah] obeyed when [they] were called to go out to a place … and [they] went out, not knowing where [they] were to go.” But what about Abraham and Sarah’s dogs? Did the dogs who faithfully followed them into an unknown land know the route any better than Abraham and Sarah? Did their following require any less faith? No! In fact, the dogs had to have more faith than Abraham and Sarah since they were following human beings who admittedly had no idea of where they were going.
Of course, there will always be those who object to such hermeneutics because the original text doesn’t say that Abraham (or Sarah) had a dog. But their very objection proves my point. In telling the story, backward, conservative, bourgeois people have completely and intentionally overlooked the contributions of dogs.
For the intractably reactionary, other texts must also be considered. For instance, is not my thesis that Polly is a potential United Methodist vitiated by Matthew 7:6: “Do not give dogs what is holy; and do not throw pearls before swine”? Careful exegesis shows that this text cannot be taken seriously. Kusin is a metaphor for wicked people. Dogs here are simply not dogs.
Then there is that unfortunate slip by Paul in Philippians 3:2: “Beware of the dogs.” Dr. Nielsen notes that the “dogs” here were possibly Jewish Christians. Therefore, rather than being a term of opprobrium, “Beware of the dogs” is an early reference to fellow Christians. “You old dog, you,” is a term of endearment.
Besides, even if these texts do say nasty things about canines, we have been so successful at removing Jesus’ strictures against divorce, riches, violence and adultery, why can’t we dispose of Matthew 7:6 and Philippians 3:2 as well?
Fortunately, the exclusivistic and humanistic bias of these text must be balanced with that beloved remark by our Lord in Mark 7:28. Nielsen is quite right in basing his central argument on Jesus’ command that dogs under the table should have the children’s crumbs.
Speaking of sacraments, there is clear Biblical warrant for dogs as fit subjects for baptisms—even though Polly hates baths. In defending infant baptism, scholars such as Oscar Cullmann and Joachim Jeremias give weight to what is called the “oikos formula” (from the Greek word for “household”), noting that, at a number of places in Acts, someone is baptized “and his whole household with him.” Even though children are not explicitly mentioned, these great scholars assume that children were also members of the household and were therefore baptized at an early age.
We talk to dogs, kiss them, cuddle them and toilet train them (more rapidly than we can train our children). So if children can be baptized, so can dogs. What is more, we have now progressed to the point where our dogs eat and dress like us, have beauty parlors, cemeteries, psychologists and birth control devices—and we have become like them in our sexual behavior. So I see no Biblical objection to any congregation receiving them as full communicants.
Historically, dogs like Polly have received great support from some of our best theologians. Luther, in his Table Talk (No. 5418), praises two dogs that performed a perfectly natural (but socially unacceptable) breakthrough, one over the grave of the bishop of Halle and the other into a Catholic holy water pot. Dogs have been Lutherans (or Lutherans have been dogs) long before we Methodists ever considered the idea.
It was also Luther who said of his little dog, Toelpel, “Ah, if I could only pray the way this dog looks at meat” (Table Talk, No. 274). How often do you hear Luther admit that another human is a better Christian than he?
I’ll admit that at present, Polly is not exactly the moral exemplar for our neighborhood. She bitterly detests all members of the feline community, tried recently to do damage to the leg of the urologist next door when he went out unannounced to retrieve his morning paper and seems utterly unconvinced of the value of monogamy.
But already, on any evening when the moon is full, she fulfills the invitation of Jonah 3:8: “… let man and beast … cry mightily to God.” She cried so mightily one Tuesday evening last week that my neighbor, the urologist, threatened to do what he has heretofore declined to do: talk to an attorney. Thus Polly effected reconciliation between two adversaries, doctors and lawyers.
In short, Polly already has all of the characteristics that would make her a wonderful Methodist.
Studies within the Church Growth Movement indicate that theology isn’t an important factor in evangelism. Far more significant are warmth, enthusiasm and feeling—all of which are so beautifully expressed by Polly and her kin.
Was it not the great theologian Friedrich Schleiermacher who defined religion as a “feeling of absolute dependence” rather than “an instinct craving for a mess of metaphysical and ethical crumbs”? Methodists are not too big on theological speculation. Similarly, I have never seen Polly bothered by metaphysical or ethical speculation. (She may indulge in such in the privacy of our garage, but I doubt it.) She knows that she is absolutely dependent on me to keep my neighbor from killing her for chasing his cat.
G. W. F. Hegel countered saying if religion were merely a feeling of absolute dependence, “then the dog would be the best Christian.”
If we United Methodists give Polly the right hand of fellowship and a pledge card, we’ll be well on our way toward that goal of nine million new members. On second thought, let’s forget the right hand of fellowship and just tell her how glad we are to have her in the church. Polly may have the heart of a Methodist, but she still has the teeth of a pagan.
Dr. William H. Willimon is minister to Duke University and professor of the practice of Christian ministry. This article, copyright 1986 Christian Century Foundation, was reprinted by permission from the July 16-23, 1986 issue of The Christian Century.
by Steve | Nov 1, 1986 | Archive - 1986
Archive: The Best Gift of My Life
By Gus Gustafson
Estelle, I feel awful.” I said to my wife. “I can hardly hold myself up.” Suddenly, I was very ill. Eight hours earlier, the day had started with great promise and anticipation. Friday, December 21, 1979. Estelle and I had planned to take an international family Christmas shopping. Then we’d take Christmas gifts to our children Bob and Gwen Hill. and their family at Winder, Ga .. about 75 miles from home. And, on Saturday night, with other children and grandchildren, we anticipated a Christmas celebration in Winder. We were as excited as the kids.
But, unknown to me, a rare, priceless gift awaited. Had I been given an advance peek at the “wrappings,” without knowing what was inside, I would have pushed the gift away.
Estelle had last minute Christmas baking and package-wrapping to do. I had to be in Atlanta on business, so we decided she would come later. Everything was going fine, except for one ominous feeling I didn’t understand. At my last stop downtown, I had an attack of chills that left me so weary that I sat down to rest. It seemed as though I’d never get to my car less than a block away.
I drove to our meeting place, arriving ahead of Estelle. Ah, I thought to myself, a little rest, and I’ll be ready to go again. So, I stretched out on the reclining seat of my car and fell into a deep sleep.
A knock on the window awakened me. There was Estelle asking, “What’s the matter?” The sleep hadn’t helped much and I gave her the bad news. We decided that I should return home. Estelle would go shopping, then go on to Winder with the gifts and return home to Griffin Saturday morning.
Secretly I was worried about driving alone for 45 miles, but not wanting to trouble Estelle, I prayed, Lord, will you give me strength for a mile at a time?
About five miles from home, I momentarily faded out. With a sudden start I came to, discovering my car was speeding along on the left-hand side of the heavily-trafficked road. With another prayer I finally arrived home.
As I entered the house, a siege of chills gripped me. Aching and cold, I climbed into bed still wearing my clothes. I put my overcoat on top of the covers and fell asleep.
Suddenly, in the dark hours of the night, chills shook me. Mustering the effort, I got up to find more blankets, and my shirt, wet with perspiration, told me something was dangerously wrong. God, what are You doing to me? I felt like saying. The night dragged on with a mixture of chills, perspiration, nightmares, dozing and waiting for daybreak.
Estelle arrived in the morning and found my fever registered 102. The doctor diagnosed pneumonia, but facing Christmas, avoided a hospital admission and prescribed home treatment.
But the thermometer went up to 104. Estelle and I prayed for relief.
That night my nightmares brought on one frantic struggle after another. Times of tossing and turning were punctuated by minutes of sleep. Wrenching chills followed burning skin and showers of perspiration.
Relief didn’t come, and in desperation I whispered, “Oh God, is this my end?” My mind and heart responded, Oh no! Don’t let it be. I’m not ready. There’s so much left to be done.
Then the haunting, even mocking thought came, Are you afraid to die? Where’ s your faith? Where’s your Cod?
I tried to recall my memory Scriptures. Nothing came to mind. There seemed to be nothing to hold on to. Suddenly I remembered those special Scriptures I’d learned. (“Spirit chargers,” I call them.) If I’m going to die, I thought, I want to go holding on to one of God’s promises.
Weaving into the study, I dropped into my rocker and fervently read one Bible promise after other, like trying to catch a floating plank in the ocean. Then a verse stopped me. I read it and reread it. The sacred Word spoke to me as never before. “Wait on the Lord: be of good courage and He shall strengthen thine heart … ” Psalm 27:14 (KJV).
I turned off the light and found my way back to bed. Those words “Wait on the Lord: be of good courage …” did something grand for me. There was an indescribable, comforting assurance that if I were to die. it would be OK. The future, whatever it held, would be better. I felt God’s presence. The dread of chills were gone. Confidence returned. I went to sleep.
Sunlight woke me up. Estelle took my temperature. It was still 104.
That’s strange, I thought. How can I feel so much better this morning when my fever is just as high as it was last night? I feel so peaceful and restful compared with last night’s tempest.
Then came the discovery—the Gift—that changed my life. By putting my life in the Lord’s hands, waiting on Him and trusting Him with the outcome, my spirit became stronger than my physical condition. My worry and fear, more devastating than the burning temperature, was gone, pushed aside by trusting the Lord.
Finally, on Tuesday, Christmas day, my fever subsided. The next day Estelle took me to a friend’s guest home in Mobile, Ala., for recuperation—and more gifts. There, alone for 17 days, except for doctor calls and family mealtime visits, the related gifts began to unfold.
To capture a blessing out of sleepless, distressful nights, I prayed for positive, upward thoughts. My Scripture verse, “Wait on the Lord … ” opened my mind and heart-focused my thinking heavenward.
The Lord talked to me about the publisher of the book I had started before getting sick. Night after night, 11 p.m., 2 a.m., 3 a.m., whenever I heard the Lord, I turned on the light, picked up my pencil and paper and roughed out ideas on a Discovery Weekend.
One year later, January 13, 1981, I signed the contract to publish I Was … Called To Be A Layman.
Two years later I spent 30 days doing The John Wesley Great Experiment, seeking God’s guidance on writing Discover God’s Call, a home search and retreat program for laity (updated version of Discovery Weekend).
In August 1982, Discover God’s Call was approved by The United Methodist General Board of Discipleship, with the sponsor being The Foundation For Evangelism of The United Methodist Church.
God’s gifts come in strange packages. Given an option that Friday night of going home or going to Bob and Gwen’s, obviously my choice would have been Christmas with my family. Instead, God had a special gift for me, unexpected, unrequested, but the greatest gift of my life!
Gus Gustafson, a UM layperson from Griffin, Ga., is the founder of the Discover God’s Call program.
by Steve | Sep 30, 1986 | Archive - 1986
Archive: Costa Rica The Holy Spirit Moves
A UM mission team sees a spiritual
by Mark Rutland
The Methodist bishop, his arms in the air, tears streaming down his face, stood praising God in the Spirit. A young Methodist pastor told of his commitment to see a true outpouring of the Holy Spirit. Laymen from three or four other Methodist churches in the area testified to having received salvation, baptism in the Spirit and miraculous healings. A prophetic utterance spoke of the beginning of revival in the Methodist church across the nation.
A dream, perhaps? Or maybe the fanciful wish of a hopeless romantic? Or could it be the description of some 19th-century frontier revival? None of the above.
Not only is this scene real, but it is also as contemporary as 1986, and as Methodist as John Wesley. I witnessed events in Costa Rica which may well signal the beginning of an historic reversal of Methodism’s posture in that country.
In recent years the Methodist Church in Costa Rica, as in much of Latin America, gradually began to slide into the darkness of liberation theology. Wherever Biblical Christianity is replaced with pop theology and Marxist political activism, the result will be spiritual decline. And Costa Rican Methodism’s vital signs were growing fainter. With membership declining and lay resentment toward a lethargic clergy rising, the results were predictable. Bitterness among the clergy began to increase. Scandal haunted several pastors, and increasingly angry political maneuvering threatened to swamp the boat. Evangelicals frantically bailed and nervously watched the water rise.
Finally, Bishop Don Roberto Diaz said, “Enough!” In accordance with the prophet Joel’s admonition to “Blow a trumpet in Zion, call a solemn assembly,” Diaz rallied the troops and decreed December a month of prayer and fasting across the country. The spirit began to move, and Diaz sensed revival was on the way.
The bishop drew up a plan including a pastors’ conference for spiritual renewal and an intensive program of evangelism. His idea was simple—renew the clergy, stir the laity, win the lost!
Following the month of spiritual preparation, the bishop scheduled a week-long, nation-wide pastors’ conference in San Jose. These all-day meetings were to be combined with evangelistic services in Methodist churches in and around the capital city. The hope was that if the meetings gave any sign of substantial success, the evangelistic part of the plan would be repeated in other regions. No one had any idea how successful it would be!
Former bishop Don Fernando Palomo, currently an Asbury Theological Seminary doctoral student, was invited to return to help advise and coordinate the event. Through the council of Dr. Paul Morrell (pastor of the Carrollton, Texas First UMC and board member of the Mission Society for United Methodists) several speakers were invited for the conference. Rev. Ted Grout, the senior member of the Rio Grande Conference came from New Mexico. Dr. Ray Hundley, an OMS missionary, came from Colombia where he teaches in the seminary at Medellin. Rev. Hundley, whose credentials include current studies for a Ph. D. from Cambridge in liberation theology, is perhaps one of the most highly qualified teachers on this topic.
The fire fell first among the pastors. Near the end of my second morning’s teaching I felt led to give an invitation. I wondered what the response might be among pastors, many of whom I knew to be experienced and dedicated men of God. I was hardly prepared for the sudden rush to the altar. Weeping, broken, hungry men filled first the altar, then the whole front of the church. Heart-rending cries of uninhibited passion came from men no longer content to live without the Holy Ghost. On their knees, on their faces, on the floor they literally cried out to God to send the power of Pentecost! He did, and soon petition gave way to praise.
Confession, repentance and the healing of relationships are some of the surest signs of revival. I watched for signals that the pyrotechnics were more than skin deep.
“I want everyone to forgive me for what I have done,” said one of the older pastors. “I have said things, terrible things, behind the bishop’s back.”
Before the pastors’ startled eyes, Bishop Diaz and the older pastor joined in a tearful embrace. Quickly they were surrounded by others. More confessions and evidences of revival followed.
A middle-aged pastor confessed that liberation theology and angry activism had nearly “possessed” him. “Pray for me,” he sobbed, his outstretched hands before him. “Pray that God will set me free to preach the true Gospel again.”
Later, his face aglow, he testified to the whole conference, ”I’m free! I’m free to preach again. Today I have received the Holy Spirit. Today my ministry starts.”
After a truly powerful message by Dr. Hundley, the younger men headed to the altar seeking the anointing of God on their ministries. I especially remember a young student pastor who was involved in immorality. I will never forget the look in his eyes when he really faced the gravity of his sin and the joy in his countenance when he found grace.
Several of the “liberation” pastors had opposed Bishop Diaz at first. One man refused to come until the last day of the conference, but on that day he was baptized in the Holy Spirit. Another pastor had steadfastly forbidden any of the visiting evangelists from visiting his church. After attending the conference, he insisted the bishop allow him to host the closing rally.
My most unforgettable moment occurred on my last night there. At the Methodist church in Guadalupe, one of San Jose’s suburbs, I saw the most immediate, manifest orthopedic healing miracle I have ever witnessed.
Among those drawn in from the streets by the sounds of praise was a ragged young woman with a crippled child. As an infant, the little boy named Pablo was involved in a serious auto accident which left one leg twisted, malformed and much shorter than the other. His lurching gait was testimony to the fruitlessness of a lifetime spent with doctors and in hospitals. He wore a brace.
His mother, though probably only in her twenties, looked old and tired. She had never before attended a Protestant service and she warily watched the joyful proceedings. Yet, when I gave the invitation to pray with the sick, she was the first person in the aisle, carrying her sleeping child straight toward the front.
Ted Grout, Bishop Diaz, Fernando Palomo and Nathan Dickerson, a visiting layman from Carrollton First UMC in Texas, joined me to lay hands on the boy. I held his ankles in my hands with the soles of his shoes flat against my chest. Only seconds into the prayer I sensed movement. The child’s leg suddenly turned in my hand and surged slightly against my chest. I could actually feel it move!
Rev. Grout helped me measure the boy’s legs and we found definite, obvious progress. After a second prayer the leg moved again. We removed his brace and both of his shoes and socks. The boy stood and walked as balanced as an athlete. His mother’s praises electrified the congregation. Spontaneous shouts, weeping and singing filled the room. God continued to move as still others were healed.
Later, at an invitation to receive Christ, the front of the church filled. Among them stood Pablo’s mother. “Do you want to repent of your sins,” I asked her, “and accept salvation by faith alone? Will you give your life to Jesus?”
Her answer in Spanish was unclear to me.
“Do you understand what she said?” Rev. Grout asked me. “She said, ‘How can I not? Tonight I have seen Him!’ ”
I have thought about that moment often. I have studied the whole situation—the pastors’ conference, the service, the signs of revival. I usually tend to think in terms of the “greater issues,” like revival in an annual conference, or the confirmation of God on the work of the Mission Society for United Methodists as they helped plan and finance the meetings. Those things are important. I long to see such happenings in my own conference.
Yet I suspect that none of those thoughts are in the mind and heart of Pablo’s mother.
Jesus has healed her son and come to live in her heart. That is all she knows of the revival in Costa Rica. “I have seen Him.” she said.
So have I.
Mark Rutland, a member of the North Georgia Annual Conference, is an approved UM evangelist.
A United Methodist Evangelist Talks About His Church
Evangelist Mark Rutland has preached before thousands of people around the world. His prescription for UM renewal: “What is needed more than anything else is for the clergy to be filled with the Holy Spirit.”
Good News: Mark, you’re traveling and doing evangelistic work in the United Methodist Church. What are you seeing in United Methodism in terms of signs of renewal. Are you encouraged?
Rutland: I’m especially encouraged about the laity. I see a tremendous openness to the fullest implications of the gospel. People are tired of the worn-out liberalism of the 60s and early 70s. They’ve confronted the bankruptcy of that whole way of thinking, and they’re not as patient with the shallow superficialities of that kind of preaching as they were. This is putting added pressure on the clergy, and yet it’s a sign of renewal, not a threat—if we in the clergy will only receive it that way. I see a good sign of renewal among Methodist men. I see that many Methodist Men’s conferences are ready to hear the Gospel.
Good News: This is a concern, especially in the light of membership loss. Are you concerned about these denominational loyalties?
Rutland: In my generation and in the following generation, that denominational loyalty has completely disintegrated. Methodism, per se, only means anything to anybody now as it presents a dynamic Gospel and the power of God. In 1966, when I graduated from high school, if you had attended the First Methodist Church in Sacramento and then moved to Atlanta, you joined the First Methodist church in Atlanta, no questions asked. That’s what everybody did. Now, that is simply not being done. People want to find a church where something is happening.
Good News: They’re more likely to shop around and look for a church that really speaks to them?
Rutland: Exactly, and I think that we’re going to have to face that, or we’re just going to gradually sink into the swamp. People want liberty in the Spirit, they want joy, they want the power and they want preaching that is substantial. Hints for happy living are just not going to cut it with the young, upwardly mobile, thoughtful business executive whose computer thinks faster than he does. He wants something that’s going to challenge him, gut-level Christianity.
Good News: How do you feel about the new strategy and the concern the bishops have in trying to reverse our membership loss? Do you envision this happening?
Rutland: I’m excited over the turn on the problem of membership loss. If we can get two million members in the next 10, 20, 30 years, I’d be thrilled with that, I’d thank God for it. My concern is that we concentrate on church growth techniques that will address the superficialities: having the choir sing Bill Gaither anthems, painting the sanctuary a more appealing pastel color and getting people who will hand out evangelism awards to the churches who have the most members. This only adds dead wood to dead wood. And gradually that will eat the heart out of the church. I’m hoping that we won’t just settle on a passion to make the church grow, but that there will be a genuine return to the power of the Holy Spirit, that we’ll grow in revival power.
Good News: What would you say the clergy needs to do to begin to see and experience renewal?
Rutland: What is needed more than anything else is for the clergy to be filled with the Holy Spirit. I think we are so rooted into climbing the corporate ladder of ecclesiastical success, of getting so involved in the church routine, that we have simply programmed power out of our own clergy. Ten years ago I was sinking, going under as a Methodist pastor-involved in sin. My ministry was going bankrupt. My marriage was on the rocks. Through the ministry of David Seamands from Wilmore, Ky. and Ralph Wilkerson from California I received the Holy Spirit, and that completely revolutionized my life.
My dream is to see conferences on the Holy Spirit for clergy in every annual conference. And I don’t mean just to come together and dissect dried up bones of theology; I’m talking about a place where clergy can come into dynamic, personal experiences of the Holy Spirit.
by Steve | Sep 18, 1986 | Archive - 1986
Challenging a church out of focus
By Bishop Richard Wilke
September/October 1986
In his new best seller, And Are We Yet Alive?, Bishop Richard B. Wilke calls the UMC a “church out of focus.” Following are excerpts from the book featuring both his stinging analysis and his creative suggestions for renewal.
The church that carries the day in the years ahead will not be a disjointed religious group, not a “people’s church,’’ not a bunch of cultists who rewrite their own philosophies. It will be a church of Jesus Christ marching to the historic messages of Scripture.
We have taken so seriously scientific analysis of the Scriptures, using higher and lower criticism, historical and contextual understanding, that we have often forgotten to hear what God is trying to say to us. We must take the Bible seriously. It is the sufficient rule both of faith and of practice. We listen to God speak to us as we read, pray, and think about the Scriptures. Without the authority of the Bible, we have no authority at all.
Those who want to rewrite the Bible using their current philosophical or sociological perspectives do us a great disservice. If the God of the Bible is not able to lead us to wholeness and justice and freedom, then we are indeed lost.
A friend of mine, pastor of a large metropolitan church, shared with me, with some chagrin, this insightful personal experience. When he was pastor of First United Methodist Church in Dallas, he decided to have Lenten Bible studies in the homes. He taught a class, and so did his associate pastor. Because he was the senior minister, the pastor’s home was filled to capacity the first night. The associate’s was about half filled. Week after week, however, like the disciples of John the Baptist, the pastor’s group diminished. The associate pastor’s study group grew each week. Discouraged and somewhat disappointed, my friend asked his associate what he was doing wrong. He had gone to his seminary notes and was discussing the authorship, the design of the book and the historical context, and he thought people would be very much interested in “studying the Bible.” The associate said in response, “Oh, we’re just reading the Scriptures and asking what God is saying to us that would be helpful in our daily lives.” The difference in approach is the difference between listening for God’s present voice and engaging in an academic exercise. One has spiritual power; the other has intellectual curiosity.
On the Missing Gospel Link.
Elton Trueblood used to say that we are a “cut-flower culture, drawing on the spiritual resources of earlier roots.” The image is appropriate for our church, for we are a cut-flower church, showing certain manifestations of the Gospel, but separated from our nourishment. Trueblood observes that we “cannot reasonably expect to erect a constantly expanding structure of social activism upon a constantly diminishing foundation of faith.”
John Wesley feared that something like this might happen. He wrote in 1786, “I am not afraid that the people called Methodists should ever cease to exist either in Europe or America. But I am afraid, lest they should only exist as a dead sect, having the form of religion without power.”
If I were to attend 50 United Methodist churches next Sunday morning, what would I hear? Mostly, sermons would expound ethical implications of the Gospel.
The sermons would be good for me, for they would urge me to be kinder to my immediate associates, and I need that. They would insist that I care more about God’s children who are dying of famine, and, after a plethora of covered-dish dinners, I need that.
However, the sermon, in all likelihood, would not tell me what God is doing to me, in me, through me. The preacher would not tell me how God changes the sinful heart into a heart of faith and love.
We are like cut flowers, no longer nourished by the amazing grace that caused us to blossom in the first place. We act theologically, as if everyone were a child of the kingdom. Yet, Christ has forcefully proclaimed that except we become converted and become as little children, we shall not enter the kingdom of God.
We have become preoccupied with politics. We are energized by economic leverages. We are consumed in cultural realignments. But we have forgotten how to mediate the change which God works in the heart through faith in Christ. We have forgotten how to do it with the poor, the dispossessed, the ethnic minorities, the people with handicapping conditions right in our own home towns. We pass resolutions about the poor, but we do not invite them into our churches. We give bread. but we do not break bread with them.
The theological crisis is precisely whether we are Wesleyans or not. Historians say that in John and Charles Wesley’s experiences, and in the sermons and music that flowed forth, the birthday of a Christian shifted from the time of his baptism to that of conversion, and in that change the dividing line of two great systems was crossed. We will have to decide whether a Christian is someone born in America and baptized by water or a person who knows the gracious work or Christ in his or her heart.
On Runaway Church Machinery.
Originally, we were called Methodists because we had a plan, an organization, a method. But now our methodology approaches madness. our organizational genius consumes our most sophisticated talent. Our structure has become an end in itself, not a means of saving the world.
I became intensely aware or this myopia when I was a pastor. The evangelism committee met, but did not make any calls. The social concerns commission gathered, but did not write any letters. The educational leaders complained about Scriptural illiteracy, but did not read from the Bible. The Council on Ministries assembled to hear reports from the committees, but took little action. The Administrative Board sat in session to approve the budget, but no one was saved. We went home tired, thinking we had done our church work.
Annual conferences are plagued by housekeeping chores. Years ago, conferences would sponsor great missionary rallies, intensive youth programs or significant evangelistic thrusts. Now, in most conferences, committees set philosophical objectives, prepare budgets. interact with other committees and achieve very little. Most of the money is spent on mileage and meals. In times past, conference committees guided hospitals, camps and colleges. Now, high-powered administrators and strong boards of trustees do that work. Yet the committees still meet. Earlier, conference boards of education nourished thousands of volunteer teachers with workshops, teacher training events and lab schools. Now, with a de-emphasis on Christian education and with subcommittees reporting to other committees who report to the Conference Council on Ministries, not much happens.
I was intrigued by Bishop Underwood of Louisiana simply asking his cabinet to set a goal of 150 new adult classes. The cabinet argued it couldn’t be done. The bishop urged them to try.
The result was almost a doubling of the 150 class goal. There was more action than if a hundred committees had met.
The General Church is caught up in its own machinery. It is so complicated and so irrelevant to the local church that most pastors ignore it.
The organizational wheels keep turning, budgets are prepared, personnel are employed. Administrative turf is protected. To those in the local church, it doesn’t matter much; it’s like the committees of Congress – interesting, but a long way off. However, the local church, like the taxpayer, pays the bills.
On Small Group Nurture.
How many people can you love at any one time? Some psychologists say about 12; that is, to be personally concerned, dedicated enough to help, willing to make regular inquiry and eager to pray for each one daily, about 12 is all anyone can handle. No pastor can pray hard enough, run fast enough or love deeply enough to hold hundreds of people in significant Christian fellowship by his or her own efforts. In the church of the future, the pastor will be training lay leaders, class leaders and spiritual leaders who in turn will have ministries to all kinds of covenant groups in the life of the church. It will be the only way to penetrate the urban sprawl.
When Dr. William Hinson was appointed to The First Methodist Church in Houston, Texas, a church of 13 or 14 thousand members, he immediately began to meet with 25 key men at seven o’clock every Thursday morning, and with 25 key women at two-thirty in the afternoon. Almost all of these persons were under 40 years of age. Dr. Hinson disciples these people. He taught them. They talked about what it means to be a Christian in a large city. They talked about Christian stewardship. They prayed. They studied the Bible. They talked about family life and about the pressures of our society. Sometimes someone would say. “I don’t know whether I’m really a Christian or not,” so they talked about that. Someone else would ask for prayer in a business or a family matter. Together they deepened their spiritual lives. Then, Dr. Hinson began to use these people in places of key leadership everywhere in the life of the church. They became lay ministers in training. Last year those key people were so energized that they provided 10 percent of the budget support in that great church.
On Resistance to Evangelism.
Our momentum for conversion and compassion for people has been hindered by a spirit of negativism that has swept through the church, particularly through the ministry. We have become experts at being critical of all forms of outreach and evangelization. Hindu theologians and teachers sometimes define God by saying what He is not. That is, they say, “God is not this. God is not this. God is not this.” It has now become popular for us, particularly for professional minister, to ridicule every form of disciple-making by saying, “Real evangelism isn’t this.” “You must be born again? – Baptist theology: Too dramatic. A bus ministry? – We don’t want just kids. we want the whole family. Raise a hand and sing Praise the Lord? – Too emotional. Call house-to-house in teams of two like the Mormons? – That’s proselytizing. TV evangelism? – They are always asking for money. The Four Spiritual Laws? –-simplistic and presumptuous. A two-year confirmation class like the Lutherans? – Too organized; lacks the reality of conversion.” The disclaimers go on and on. It is as if we wanted to do away with procreation because sex is involved. In church growth, neither I nor any of us want hucksters. No United Methodist wants to prostitute the Gospel. I remember a story told about William Booth, that Methodist preacher who wanted to do evangelism among the “bob-tag and rag-tail” of London. To the woman who criticized his methods of evangelism, he replied. “Madam, I like my way of doing it better than your way of not doing it.”
On Sunday School Decline.
Years ago, one of our most able administrators, Bishop William C. Martin, accurately observed that there were many signs of alive congregations, but the one uniform signal, across the board. of a consistently alive, vibrant and growing church was the strength of its church school attendance. During one period of great growth, the 1880s, 1890s, and early 1900s, the denomination had twice as many people attending the church schools as were members of the church. Children, youth, adults – visitors, friends, relatives – became a part of the church school and later made commitments to the church.
Even as late as the 1950s and ‘60s the church school. by then less than the membership, was still the foundation for new members. Generally, about 70 to 80 percent of all persons received by profession of faith have come out of the church school. Church school attendance has been for us the gateway to Christ and the church.
The decline in our church school began in 1960 and has continued precipitously ever since.
In 1960-1964 – 4.2 million
In 1980-1984 – 2.1 million
Half of our church school is gone! Over two million people are no longer with us. Those classes were. to use Lyle Schaller’s phrase, “ports of entry” for our churches. Those people had “church growth eyes.” They invited friends and neighbors to come with them to attend their classes. Eventually many experienced the living Christ in their lives and joined the church.
On Inverted Evangelism.
Centripetal witnessing means to invite people into the fellowship and to help them grow toward the center of axis, which is in fact Christ himself; we are talking about inverted evangelism, witnessing turned inside out. Instead of inviting people to accept Christ, then join the church, then become a part of the body – life of the church. The strategy is 180 degrees in the opposite direction. Bring people into the corporate life; that is, toward the center. Let them experience the joy, the music, the Scriptures, the prayers, the love of the people. As they sing “Amazing Grace,” they may find it. As a person experiences the acceptance of the fellowship, he or she may find the love that will not let go. Then, in the koinonia, as the people grow closer to the axis, their lives will become integrated, whole, and in harmony with God, neighbor and themselves.
This inverted evangelism has a Wesleyan heritage. We preachers tend to idolize the Wesleys and George Whitefield for their preaching; indeed they were centrifugal and did go out into the open fields where the people were. But historians tell us that more conversions took place in the class meetings than ever occurred under the preaching of those noted evangelists. They stirred people up with their preaching, but then invited them to come to the group meetings. When Wesley was preaching. he would invite people to join a class and would sometimes form a new class that very evening. He would explain that the one condition for class membership was simply “the desire to flee the wrath to come,” know the acceptance of God and live a higher life.’’
On Accountability.
Immediately after I was consecrated a bishop, a friend came by to see me. He was president and chief executive officer of a major corporation, a marvelous Christian and a great churchman. He went right to the point; he said, “Dick, any large company that has a track record like the United Methodist Church, whose charts show steady decline, would have been called on the carpet long ago. The board of directors would have demanded emergency meetings, and the corporate executives would have been held accountable. Consultants would have been brought in. Heads would roll. It would not be business as usual.”
Those of us in places of leadership in the United Methodist Church must assume a great deal of responsibility for the decline of our denomination. Bishops, members of general boards, key laypersons, district superintendents and pastors have focused on many matters, but not on the health and well-being of the local church.
Ineffective ministers will have to be weeded out, using leave of absence, disability leave and administrative location. Churches do not exist to serve ministers. No pastor can be permitted to destroy half-a-dozen churches as he or she flounders in personal confusion or professional ineptitude. No longer should a pastor be guaranteed a job for life. It is not good enough to send a grossly ineffective pastor to the boondocks. The small church deserves a “workman who needeth not to be ashamed.” A seminary degree is not a work permit.
Currently. we don’t have money for missionaries. We don’t have money for new churches. We are fat where we should be lean and lean where we should be fat. Something is wrong with a church that has larger boards of directors than it has staff for those boards. Something is askew with a church with more administrative staff than missionaries.
During the annual conference, when the statistician finished reading the negative report to the conference, one bishop got up from his chair and stepped to the floor of the conference. He then led the entire body in a service of contrition. With dignity and power, he guided a confession of sins for failing to lead men and women, girls and boys into a saving relationship with God and into a fellowship experience in the Church of Jesus Christ.
On Being a Burning Church.
Many people believe that our business is to run the church. That’s why we’re in trouble. Our job is not to run the church; our job is to save the world. “For God did not send his Son into the world to be its judge, but to be its Savior” (John 3:17, TEV). Oh, let us pray that our young men and women will have visions of a world transformed, that our old men and old women will dream of a church on fire.
I remember a young woman who was burning –- burning up inside with guilt, loneliness and sexual cravings. She is an illustration of our world aflame. I’ll call her Jeanette. She walked into my study complaining that she was overeating and gaining weight.
As we talked. she mentioned growing up in a small town. attending UMYF, going to the university, living with a fellow for a couple of years, preparing for a wedding that never happened. When the man walked out, she began to work hard, weep a lot and eat. Dates were one night stands –- in the sack and out.
“Dear God,” I prayed, “if only the fire of the Spirit could be ignited within her so she could be at peace.” But I needed help. I needed the apostolic word. the supportive community, the prayers of the faithful, the incisive skill of the Great Physician.
Then I remembered. On Wednesdays, a Christian psychologist came to our church to serve as a trained therapist for anyone in need. He served as a pastoral associate from a local community mental health center.
I thought of our new young adult church school class that had grown out of a Thursday night group.
As Jeanette continued to talk, across my mind flashed the little prayer group of young women from that class and of the young adults who sat together in worship. Suddenly I blurted out, “Jeanette. here’s what I want you to do: I am going to make an appointment with our therapist. Will you see him?
“Yes,” she answered.
“You need Christian friends who will treat you as a human being, not as a disposable object. Will you come to our young adult class?”
She nodded.
“I’m going to have a fine young woman call and invite you to the prayer group. Okay? And come to worship if you can.”
I never said much about Jesus. But the counselor called me and said that after several interviews he and Jeanette concluded their final session with prayer. He literally saw her straighten up her shoulders, dry her eyes and beam with a new joy in her heart. Later when I saw her, she was trim, laughing, surrounded by new-found friends.
Her mother wrote me, “Jeanette has come ‘home.’” She didn’t mean back to her hometown, but home to God, home to her family relationships, home to her true self, home to the church. The fires of guilt, loneliness and sexual cravings had been quenched. A new fire burned within her.
The United Methodist Church can burn again with the fires of Pentecost. The Holy Spirit can empower us to speak in all the languages of the world, can enable all women and men, old and young, of every race and nation to be inviting witnesses of peace, and can get aflame the mission of Jesus Christ to save a lost and lonely world.
From 1984-1996, Richard B. Wilke was Bishop of the Arkansas area of the United Methodist Church. These excerpts from his book. And Are We Yet Alive © 1986 by Abingdon Press are used by permission.
Sidebar: Conversation with Bishop Wilke.
Bishop Dick Wilke is afraid people will get the wrong idea about And Are We Yet Alive? “One of the things I fear about my book is that people will say, ‘Well, he’s down on the church.’ I’m hoping they’ll see the great hope and optimism.”
But as Wilke, who presides over United Methodism in Arkansas, begins to tell visitors to his office how the book is being received, his anxiety is replaced by excitement and pleasure.
“How many times have you ever written a two-page, single-spaced letter to any book author?” Bishop Wilke asks the interviewer. Upon receiving a negative reply, he says, “I never have. I never have in my whole life.” Wilke has written three other books and felt lucky to get 20 letters on a book before.
And Are We Yet Alive? is a different story. The bishop estimates he has received between 200 and 250 letters as of mid-July. “It’s just been unbelievable,” he says.
The book has been selling, too. Published in hardcover, more than 35,000 copies have been printed so far. Book tables at last summer’s annual conferences couldn’t keep it in stock. Church publications are writing articles. Speaking invitations are rolling in. And that’s on top of the splash Wilke has already made as chairman of the committee trying to turn our membership loss around.
No doubt about it. Bishop Wilke is the talk of the church right now. Still, he’s frustrated over his limited tools for implementing change.
“As a person there’s so little I can do,” he states. “I have no staff. I have no power.”
“My book is a scream in the night. Hopefully, others will hear it and respond to it.” One thing he can do, he asserts, is concentrate on bringing church growth to his own area.
Arkansas’ two annual conferences have adopted a “five star plan,” which includes asking each church to: (1) receive one person on profession of faith for every 75 members; (2) increase Sunday school attendance by five percent; (3) start a new adult Sunday school class within a year; (4) hold a confirmation or membership training class; and (5) pay apportionments. Last year 85-90 of the state’s 842 United Methodist churches made the grade.
If anything, Dick Wilke is a man of action. There’s nothing of the politician or the bureaucrat about him. Mincing words and skirting issues are foreign to him. Another thing – the bishop isn’t holding back his influence for future use like many other leaders. Like the young Patrick Henry, who made his “Give me liberty or give me death” speech very early in his career, Wilke feels he must speak up now or never.
Only elected bishop in 1984, he had been the pastor of a Wichita, Kansas congregation. Wilke is still very much in touch with the local church, and doubts whether big national schemes will turn the church around. Neither is he convinced that retooling our theology is the key.
“It isn’t so much that we don’t believe in conversion,” says Wilke, “we just haven’t been preaching it. It’s not that we don’t believe in the atoning work of God in Christ [but that] we haven’t been saying much about it.”
The bishop believes the church’s enthusiasm for social issues and preaching on ethics has blurred the fact that many of our members are not even converted. Nor, he believes, are we reaching outside our contented little fellowships to bring in nonbelievers, especially young people.
“We’re talking about a field white unto the harvest,” he states. “And whether you’re talking about hell as an experience after death, whether you’re talking about the hell of being a 13-year-old prostitute in San Francisco or whether you’re talking about any of the tornness of life between 11 and 17, the need for Christ and faith is just overwhelming.
“So whether or not it’s a matter of theology, I would call it more a matter of will and spirit and intensity. More a matter of driveness. Our church must become driven.
Referring to his book, Bishop Wilke knows words won’t be enough.
“My great fear is that we will talk about theology or sociology, or continuously diagnose the ailing church, that there will be books and pamphlets and speeches made by the thousands on what’s wrong with the church – and nobody will be doing anything.
“My great hope is that in local church after local church, people will start reaching out to their neighbors and helping to include them in the life of the fellowship.”
-James S. Robb
by Steve | Jul 12, 1986 | Archive - 1986
Archive: Barbara Brokhoff: UM Evangelist
“The Gospel is larger than any one issue,” says Barbara. “It’s larger than race; it’s larger than male-female.”
By Sara L. Anderson
Good News, July/August 1986
A young visiting evangelist and the local pastor walked up and down the streets of a small town inviting people to services. “We came to a house, the dirtiest house I had ever seen in my life,” recalled Barbara Brokhoff, the evangelist. When a man answered the door they invited him to church. He refused, saying, “I’m not coming to your revival because preachers will never eat with me.” But he amended that statement with, “Young lady, if you’ll come and eat with my family tonight, I’ll come to your revival.”
“So, I did that,” Barbara said, “and I’m not even able to tell you how filthy that home was. We ate skunk and boiled potatoes.”
Whatever abuse such cuisine inflicted upon her digestive tract, she saw rewards from that visit. The family came to church that night, and when the invitation to trust Christ as Savior was given, the couple and four of their six children came forward.
“A year later I was back in that church,” Barbara continues. “I didn’t even recognize them as being the same people. The pastor said that they had cleaned up their home, themselves – everything. It was amazing to me, just a nineteen-year-old preacher, how God could do something like that by such a simple act as sharing a meal.”
The Mexico, Missouri, daughter of a Methodist pastor, Barbara had heard the call to preach more than two years before, but resisted. “This was less than a hundred years ago [actually more like the early 1940s],” she recalled, “but I had never heard of a woman preacher.”
Finally 17-year-old Barbara McFarland gave in. “I said, OK, God, if you want me to preach. I’ll preach, but you have to open the doors.’ I thought, ‘That’ll fix God,’ because no doors would be open to a woman preacher.”
But that first week she received several invitations to preach, and when her pastor heard of her call, he told her she could preach at the county jail the next Sunday. After a few rounds of “No, I can’t,’’ and “Yes, you can,’’ Barbara left thinking she’d won the argument. But that Sunday she found 30 or 40 inmates expecting a sermon – from her. She opened her Bible to Isaiah, talked about Jesus as the prophesied Messiah and told what Christ had done for her. That impromptu message christened her a genuine preacher.
After attending North Central College in Minneapolis, Barbara sought advice from her district superintendent. He hadn’t heard of a woman preacher either and didn’t recommend seminary. So she completed her education by correspondence and seminars. Finally in 1956, women were admitted to full clergy status in the Methodist church, and Barbara achieved elder status in 1958.
Remarkably, since that first invitation, Barbara has never requested an opportunity to grace the pulpit. “The doors have just been opened, and God has always given me more places to preach than I can possibly fill,” she said. “It’s as if all my life he’s said, ‘I’ll show you how I can open doors.’”
Those doors opened into homes, hospital rooms, small country churches, and large urban worship centers during her early preaching days, her 15 years as a pastor in the Missouri East Conference, and her current tenure as conference evangelist for Florida. They’ve also opened to a number of “firsts”: First woman to preach at the Missouri East Annual Conference, at the North Georgia Annual Conference, at the Florida Annual Conference, the Lenten Series at Chicago Temple, and at the Missouri Conference Ministers’ Week. And everywhere she goes, the warmth of her personality and truth of her message indicate why the “firsts” have not also become “lasts.”
“My main message is Christ, that he absolutely is the hope of the world, and that God can be trusted in all of life,” explained the 58-year-old evangelist. “That means on a national basis, on a world basis, and on an individual, nitty-gritty problems-of-life basis.”
Yet husband John Brokhoff, Professor Emeritus of Preaching at UM-related Candler School of Theology, is quick to point out that the medium can be significant in how the hearer receives the message. “I think one of the reasons for Barbara’s effectiveness is that her personality is so vibrant, and she is so excited about the Gospel that the enthusiasm and the joy of [being] a Christian come through in a powerful way.”
But the medium, however enthusiastic, is unmistakably female, and there are still churchgoers who, unlike Barbara 40 years ago, have heard of women preachers but have never heard one preach.
“Most people are more prepared to hear a male – they’re just traditionally geared to that,” Barbara said. “I have found, though, that God has opened doors so that when people hear the truth of the Word, they don’t care whether it’s a man or a woman speaking, just as long as they hear from God.” For emphasis, she adds, “It’s the Word that’s the healing, saving, helping factor. It’s like going to the doctor. If you’re bleeding to death, you really don’t care if it’s a male or female who stops the bleeding.”
John agrees emphatically with that observation. “When Barbara starts out in a new place, there’s always a question as to whether or not the people want a woman preacher,” he said. “But after she builds a rapport with them, through her introduction – which is somewhat personal – and starts preaching, the Word becomes so predominant that it doesn’t matter whether it’s a male or female who is speaking.”
The key word here is “Word.” That has much more significance to the Rev. Brokhoff than adding more “firsts” to her list. “The gospel is the cause for which she lives and works,” John observed. “Many of the women I know in the ministry have made the women’s movement the cause of their lives. I think [they] are making a very bad mistake. The gospel has to come first and the person is only an instrument in proclaiming the gospel.”
While acknowledging the need to address issues that face women in the church, Barbara clarifies “the Gospel is larger than any one issue. It’s larger than race, it’s larger than male-female, because when the Gospel is truly preached, then Paul’s word [“in Christ there is no male or female”] comes true; then equality is found.”
But John also notes that women often bring different gifts to preaching than men. “I think women preachers are a little more sensitive to the human situation,” he said. “They have more emphasis on feelings, whereas male preachers are more doctrinal and theological and probably more abstract in their presentation.”
While delivering the gospel to people involves sensitivity to their circumstances, Barbara would be the first to admit that the Word is also incisive. Her nonthreatening, almost maternal demeanor might lead one to believe that she could not speak with firmness about the consequences of sin. But that is a significant part of her presentation. “I’m under the conviction that you can tell people almost anything, however difficult it is, if you do not become strident and angry and critical in doing so,” Barbara said. “People hear your spirit. Someone said they didn’t mind their pastor telling them they were going to hell, [but he didn’t have to] seem so glad about it.”
The turning point between pastor/part-time evangelist and full-time evangelist altered Barbara’s message. This change came about after she attended a preaching seminar taught by Dr. John Brokhoff, a Lutheran scholar teaching at Candler. She may not have been the first woman to attend one of his seminars, but she was the only one enrolled in that session. And Barbara’s preaching style was undoubtedly influenced by the eminent Dr. Brokhoff, but that was not the major change wrought by her presence. In the interests of ecumenical understanding, not to mention other considerations, the Rev. McFarland became the Rev. Brokhoff 14 years ago. Barbara joined John in Georgia and requested appointment as conference evangelist for North Georgia. “That meant that we could be on the road for preaching together when John was not teaching,” she said. “It also meant that when he was teaching, I could be somewhere else preaching revivals and missions and seminars.”
That arrangement worked well and it was made even better when John retired seven years ago. Then team preaching became their ministry. Now the Brokhoffs live in Clearwater, Florida, and travel together three-quarters of the time, offering churches a unique program. John teaches for an hour, usually on fundamentals of the Christian faith, and Barbara follows with an hour of preaching. In churches where members have little biblical or doctrinal knowledge this is an important emphasis.
“I think we do need exhortation,” John emphasizes. “But we also need understanding of the Word. Exhortation leaves you with a good feeling, and you’re inspired to make decisions. But feelings come and go. If you get rooted and grounded in the faith and biblical doctrine, you have a chance for permanent understanding.”
Along with teaching the Word and leading people to Christ, the Brokhoffs consider encouraging local pastors a significant part of their ministry. “They are good pastors, they’re just discouraged and are carrying a lot of loads alone,” Barbara said. She recalls a presentation she and John did on the “forgetfulness of God, that he simply does not remember our sins against us. He blots them out – even from his own mind.
“When we gave the invitation that night,” she recalled, “a district superintendent came forward with tears rolling down his face and knelt at the altar. When he stood up his whole face was illumined and he said, ‘All my life I thought that everything I’d ever done wrong would be read out for all to hear on the last day. I had not been fully aware of the forgiveness of God.’”
The Brokhoffs’ stories could go on for pages, and they love to tell them in that way that married couples and good teams do – with interjections reminding each other of some salient detail – and with affirmation for one another. This is noteworthy, considering the fact that a Lutheran Church of America preaching professor and a United Methodist evangelist could find some fertile ground for argument. “We have some wonderful theological discussions,” John said. And Barbara added, “I tell John that whenever Lutherans get a bad pastor they can’t get rid of him, since they call him. [He is not appointed by church hierarchy.] And John tells me that when Methodists get a good pastor they can’t keep him,” she continues, laughing. “Polity is the only thing we have any real difference of opinion on.”
The couple also appears to be unthreatened by each other’s ministry or popularity with a particular congregation. “Our common goal is to be what God had called us to be, so we’re not in competition with each other,” Barbara said, and adds that since they understand each other’s need for solitude when studying or preparing a sermon, that decreases the chances for tension. “Sometimes we even say that we feel sorry for people that are not in the same work, because we understand each other’s problems and needs,” Barbara said. “We just enjoy working together,” John added.
And, as long as the doors keep opening, as long as the Brokhoffs receive more invitations to preach than they can possibly accept, this ecumenical couple will continue to add to their “firsts” list. But, of utmost importance to them, they will be pursuing that common goal or helping people come to Christ and become rooted and grounded in the faith.
Sara L. Anderson was the associate editor of Good News when this article was published in 1986.
Editor’s note: Dr. John Brokhoff died in 2003; the Rev. Barbara Brokhoff died in 2023. Photos by Ed Sedej.
Q&A: The Church We See Today
Barbara and John Brokhoff have brought their two-pronged method of evangelism – teaching followed by preaching – to hundreds of churches. Good News asked them about the needs they’ve observed In United Methodist churches.
Good News: What, in your opinion, is the greatest need of the average United Methodist lay person?
Barbara Brokoff: I believe the most urgent need is to come into some kind of relationship with Christ, and then, born out of that relationship, a sense of responsibility for evangelism of the non-Christian [is necessary]. The biggest need of our church is for people to know Christ better and then to make him known. I know that’s simplistic, but I really think everything else revolves around that.
John Brokoff: As I get around to the various churches, I find there is an abominable lack of knowledge and understanding of the Scripture. People do not read the Bible, they do not know how to understand or interpret the Bible. And, as a result, they do not know what it is to be a Christian. They have no roots that hold them fast, to give them a sense of certainty in regard to the Christian faith (What is sin, what is salvation, what does it mean to be in Christ, how do you get right with God?). They’re living on a level of works-righteousness. They think Christianity is being nice to your neighbor or doing a little good turn for somebody. A majority of people in a recent poll – I think it’s around 70 percent – indicate that they think God will accept them if they try to do what is right.
BB: We’re amazed at how many people in the teaching sessions, particularly the one that John does on fundamentals of the faith, say, “Oh I’ve been in the church all my life and never did know that.”
GN: Isn’t it rather odd that Methodists who were in the Reformation tradition of salvation by grace and salvation by faith would drift into works-righteousness?
JB: Much of our preaching today, I think, is ethical, moralistic, rather than being Gospel, Christ-centered. And this leads people to think in terms of works-righteousness for salvation. These moral pep talks are not helping people.
BB: I preached at Chicago Temple with Dr. William White this year. I remember one thing he said relative to that. He said, “There is nothing that is so terrible as being told you’re all right when you know that you’re all wrong,” and when we tell people, “Oh, you’re OK,” and do not give them a way out of their dilemma, It’s terrible.
JB: Today there is a minimization of sin and a maximization of the human with our human rights, civil rights, and the glory of being human. When you get God-centered, you have an overwhelming sense of sin, which leads you to Christ as the Savior.
BB: And then, having known that you’re accepted by Christ, you understand human worth in the light of his sacrifice and his acceptance, but not through ourselves.
JB: We emphasize in our teaching that we’re saved by grace alone, and that when you receive this grace through faith, out of faith comas good works, but they’re only a by-product of the previous grace that we experience.
GN: Do you find that Methodist are generally open to hearing a conversion message?
BB: I think people are very hungry to hear that message. People are looking for solutions and answers. People that know they are Christians and have been for years love to hear again the old story of Christ and his coming to save. And people that have not come into a vital relationship are exposed to it. One day the Holy Spirit takes [that message] and makes It vital for them.
