PART ONE
“In the Beginning ...”
Like a mighty army
Moves the church of
God;
Come, now we are
treading
Where the saints have
trod,
We are not divided,
All one body we:
One in hope and
doctrine,
One in charity.
Onward Christian
soldiers,
Marching as to war,
With the cross of
Jesus
Going on before.
(Worship the Lord/
Warner Press/1989/689/
*****
The Church of God of
Three Rivers
Is
an open fellowship of
believers,
Personally committed
to Jesus Christ.
we practice believer’s
baptism by immersion.
We share open
communion.
We reject all
denominational Membership barriers
as foreign to the
family of God.
We work with all Christians
in reconciling the
world to God through Jesus Christ.
Statement of Faith,
Church Bulletin of 11-15-1992,
(Dedication service for new facility, 9-1984)
CHAPTER ONE - “Rocky River”
He arrived back at Fort Miami on
March 24, 1680,
“built a raft to pole up the St.
Joseph as far as possible
and then became the
first white man to traverse southern Michigan.”
La Salle’s incredible
journey to Montreal took 65 days in all.
Larry B. Massie,
Copper Trails & Iron Rails/1989/22
North of the present site of Three Rivers, Rocky River flows west to east through
Flowerfield Township. It turns southerly near the present site of downtown
Three Rivers, where it enters the St. Joseph River. Numerous waterways make the
St. Joseph River Valley a fertile destination. These waterways offered early southern
Michigan pioneers a boundless potential of natural resources.
Productive
land became readily available at $1.25 an acre. Abundant waterpower promised
profit-seeking developers a sleeping giant of potential profit. The first
settlement launched in 1821 with the Treaty signed by Chief Topinabee. The
first incorporation came in 1829. By 1855, it was a sleepy little village,
unrecognized as a town until 1895, when it approached 3,500 citizens.
Larry
Massie describes some of the area’s first pioneers in The Romance of
Michigan’s Past. On venturing into
southwest Michigan, those earliest explorers must have marveled at the pristine
beauty of the lush White Pigeon Prairie. Appreciative trailblazers gave high praise
to the 18,000-acre tract, and added giving equal acclaim to Prairie Ronde, a
few miles north, at Schoolcraft, in Kalamazoo County (Priscilla
Press/1991/155-167).
Earliest
arrivals snapped up choice plots of prairie. John Winchell and Arba Heald journeyed
west from Monroe, Michigan, to stake their claims. The following year, they
became the first permanent settlers on the White Pigeon prairie. The settlement
grew quickly, adjacent to the Indiana border, at the junction of the military
road--current highway U.S. 12. A meandering trail ran northward into Kalamazoo
County, continuing north from Three Rivers.
By
1831, White Pigeon was well on its way to becoming Michigan’s oldest village.
Opening a Land Office ten miles south of future Three Rivers, White Pigeon
boasted a thriving population of 600 hardy souls. Thomas Sheldon relocated from
Monroe to White Pigeon and on June 1, 1831, he became the Land Agent for the
new Federal Land Office.
Managed
by Sheldon, and assisted by Abram Edwards the Register of Claims, the new land
office brought boom times to White Pigeon. Settlements developed rapidly. They
surveyed and staked claims throughout west and south-central Michigan, always
close to rivers and creeks. Names like Battle Creek, Schoolcraft, Kalamazoo,
and Grand Rapids, competed for the increasing numbers of people, as did others
more distant.
Citizens
of the world rubbed shoulders in White Pigeon. Louis Campau, French fur trader,
arrived at the local Land Office on September 19, 1831. In filing the plat for
his site at the foot of the rapids on Grand River, he became one of the
original founders of the city of Grand Rapids. World Travelers and British
authors, Joseph Latrobe and Patrick Shirreff, strolled about “the small pretty
village comprised of well-painted frame houses,” before enjoying breakfast of
Ruffled Grouse, shot on the nearby prairie.
Titus
Bronson, the eccentric Connecticut Yankee potato producer, took title to an
acreage where Arcadia Creek flows into the Kalamazoo River and founded the city
of Kalamazoo. Sands McCamly saw potential waterpower further east on the
Kalamazoo River. Consequently, when someone claimed the entrance of the creek
(called Battle); the original investors lost interest and sold to McCamly.
Sands McCamly consequently became the founder of Battle Creek.
Such
diverse individuals participated in the hospitality of White Pigeon. They did
their business at the Land Office and the area expanded rapidly. Helen
Wickman--St. Joseph County Historical Society--suggested waterpower provided
the initial impetus for pioneers coming to the Three Rivers area during those
earliest days.
About
1830, the confluence of three streams--St. Joseph, Portage and Rocky
Rivers--claimed prime attention for shipping grain. Stony Creek gained its name
from the rushing waters that surged around huge boulders in the main stream
before men built dams. Later re-named Rocky River, stones dotted the edges of
the riverbanks. Eventually, the builders retrieved many of the boulders and used
them in constructing local projects like the Three Rivers Carnegie Center for
the Arts.
Pioneering
entrepreneurs built numerous mills along the waterways to gain advantage from
the rushing waters. In 1830, Jacob McInterfer settled in Three Rivers and built
his gristmill on the West Side of Rocky River--just north of the present West
Michigan Avenue. Jacob died in 1831. His heir, Solomon McInterfer, sold it to
Michael Beadle who built the first mill in Flower field, a few miles north of
Three Rivers. Beadle completed construction of his mill, installed a pair of
boulder stones, and began grinding grist’s. He later converted it into a
sawmill that no longer ground grist’s.
By
1836, the mill had passed successively through the hands of Beadle, Schnabel,
Joseph Smith and John Bowman. Beadle did a progressive milling business,
expanding to the opposite side of the river, selling out in 1836 to Bowman and
Smith. E. S. Moore and A. C. Prutzman leased it for the year 1838-1839, and
later purchased it. They operated it for twenty more years, until 1859, before
terminating their partnership.
The
mill continued to operate, but from 1870-72, people knew it as the Emery
Gristmill. Still later, locals later knew it as the Roller Mills and as Harris
Milling. With a capacity of 500 barrels
daily and 250 horsepower, the mill enjoyed a far-reaching reputation that
extended into many eastern cities. This Three Rivers industrial site produced
high-grade flour for eastern cities, utilizing the nearby railroad siding for
its primary use.
Throughout
much of 1876, the mill operated day and night, producing 40,000 barrels of
flour that year. Recognized as one of the oldest mills in the state, it
continued to produce flour until 1904. When fire destroyed the mill on February
22, 1904, it never rebuilt.
The
Sheffield Car Company later operated a small power plant on that site, using
two water wheels. Emery sold the property to the city of Three Rivers in 1911.
Following that purchase, the City Fathers held a special election in 1913 and
issued a $20,000 bond to build the City Water Works and Electric Light Plant.
In
1915, voters approved the plan. The city built the plant in 1916 and the Three
Rivers municipality began production--providing electricity for streetlights
and other city needs. The city also supplied the water pumps and power for the
community hospital. The plant closed when the dam collapsed in 1948, leaving it
neglected for several decades following.
In
1989, the city fathers negotiated a new agreement with the Three Rivers Ice
Cream Company. In the years following, customers visited the historic site on
the near West-side, and there we enjoyed gourmet ecstasies from the Rocky River
Ice Cream Company. We often socialized after church, enjoying tasty dishes of
ice cream, while history buffs savored the snippets of local history decorating
the interior that revealed the city‘s earliest days.
Between
1830 and the early 1990s, Three Rivers changed its outward appearance several
times. It began as a small settlement of twenty-or-so hearty souls. Today, it
takes in some 10,000 souls--one of two cities in this mostly-rural county.
Residents find employment at local light industrial plants. Agriculture, seed
corn and hogs still reign supreme as solid cash crops.
Whereas
the School System began in 1839 in a one-room school with one-teacher, it now
serves as the city’s largest employer. The school district serves some 3,000
students within a 120 square-mile radius. Buses cover 1,500 miles per day. A
school system that began by graduating two students now annually graduates two
hundred and more.
The
city of Three Rivers continues to enlarge its boundaries. One factor that remains
consistent is the small-town focus on family and its strong sense of community.
The Church of God message of holiness and unity came to birth long before the
Church of God in Michigan organized as an ecclesiastical organization in 1920.
What
follows is the result of historical study by the pastor who walked with this
Faith Family in Three Rivers, MI at the time they celebrated their Centennial,
being among our earliest congregations to celebrate their first one-hundred-years.
This Body of Saints now exists as one of the oldest in the Church of God in Michigan.
As such, what follows is both historical in nature, and strongly
autobiographical
_______________
CHAPTER TWO - “River
City”
“. . . First known as the
River of the Miami's,
the St. Joseph rises
in Hillsdale County
and empties into Lake
Michigan
. . . At one time,
the St. Joseph was navigable
from Lake Michigan to
Union City
and flour, grain and
lumber were moved downstream
as supplies were
brought upstream,
a distance of 175
miles. . .”
From “Meandering Magic”
Three Rivers Commercial-News
“River
City” came into existence as an Indian trading post at the confluence of three
streams. Approximately ten miles north of White Pigeon, it provided a southern
port of entry for the Michigan territory. The Three Rivers settlement slowly
evolved twenty-five miles south of Kalamazoo. It increased rapidly in influence
as people homesteaded in southwestern Michigan.
Portage
Creek and Rocky River vary in size, and each enters the larger St. Joe River,
from a different direction. The three waterways gave early pioneers, and the
settlers that followed them, a prime resource for waterpower and
transportation.
The
first Americans predated those early European explorers who used their
waterways as their primary mode of travel. The confluence of the three streams
provided those earliest residents a natural campsite, predictably producing a
Trading Post.
The
unpredictable St, Joseph River, largest of the three, originates in
northeastern Indiana--near Fort Wayne. It enters southeastern Michigan, flowing
westward as it leisurely twists its way across St. Joseph County before turning
sharply south. This sharp twist legitimizes the name South Bend, Indiana and
winds northward from South Bend, into Michigan.
This
popular waterway finally empties into Lake Michigan, after meandering a
distance of 250 miles. The mouth of the St. Joe River empties into the Big Lake
and separates Benton Harbor’s poverty stricken black ghetto from the upwardly
mobile, affluent and mostly-white industrial complex of St. Joseph.
John McInterfer allegedly built his
first log cabin on Rocky River. Local sources date other beginnings back to
when Mr. Buck built his double log cabin house on the St. Joe River flat, south
of the current downtown--later occupied by Essex Wire Company. Buck allegedly
erected a double cabin. He used half of it for his home and half of it for a
tavern, long known as Halfway House. Buck’s Cabin also served as the area Post
Office. The first mail delivered to the Halfway House reportedly filled a quart
pail.
The
French fur traders had traded with the Indians since 1680. Cassoway and Gibson
maintained the original French Trading Post, dating back to the arrival of the
first settlers at the junction. Believed to have been established by the French
before the Revolutionary War, the Post served as a school. There, the
schoolchildren could observe the comings and goings of the Indians doing
business at the trading post. A red granite boulder marks the site with a
bronze tablet--in LaSalle Park on Constantine Street adjacent to the zoo.
The
north side of Three Rivers settled first between Rocky River--originally called
Stoney Creek--and Portage Creek. John Bowman, John Hoffman, and the Lewland
family were among the earliest residents. They reportedly built their first
house in Three Rivers at 235 Portage Avenue. This primary artery leaves the
downtown meandering northeastward via old Portage Road toward Kalamazoo.
Two
local men--Millard and Moore--built keel boats--using them to haul grain from
Three Rivers to Lake Michigan in 1834--fifty miles west. The first platting of
Three Rivers came in 1836 and included only the First Ward--the north side.
The
community built its first school in 1837, on a lot owned by John Bowman, the
same year Michigan became a state. The town organized its first public library,
beginning with a $5.00 contribution for the purchase of books. A town meeting
approved the action and they kept the books at the school.
In
1845, John Hoffman built Hoffman’s Mill on the Portage--the present site of
Hoffman and Wood Streets. Waterpower turned the wheels that ground the grain
that fed the early residents. This helped drive their economic interests and
the sturdily built mill became a feature story in a major Detroit newspaper in
1915.
The
first paper mill started soon thereafter--1853. That year launched a Railroad
with strap rails. When completed, it passed through Three Rivers, en route to
Kalamazoo from White Pigeon--the Tri-Weekly. It took an entire day to make that
thirty-mile journey.
Paper
products developed into a major industrial commodity during this same time.
Throughout the thirties and forties, into my High School years, I watched
ocean-going Pulp Boats from overseas ports unload their products in South Haven
warehouses. Ships came from as far away as Norway and Sweden. Our next-door
neighbor, Ray Nelson, frequently visited the loading docks. Meeting the ships,
he talked with crew members in his native Norwegian tongue.
The
Kalamazoo Valley served as a strategic industrial center for paper products.
They arrived on ships the length of two and three football fields. After
crossing the Atlantic Ocean, they churned their way through the Saint Lawrence
Seaway, docking in ports that dotted the Great Lakes.
The
United States Coast Guard and the Corp of Engineers protected and maintained
local harbors and shipping lanes. The Coast Guard cutter, U. S. S. Escanaba,
docked frequently in South Haven. Many times, I observed them dredging Black
River channel--maintaining shipping lanes for overseas vessels coming into
Michigan’s inland ports.
Ocean-going
vessels docked and unloaded their products at the Black River Terminal at the
foot of Williams Street hill, as well as in other cities up and down both
shorelines of Lake Michigan. Cargo then traveled by rail--later by truck--to
numerous paper mills in the Kalamazoo Valley and surrounding region. This
included Three Rivers and gave West Michigan a strategic role in paper products
of all kinds, playing a major role in the industrial development of
southwestern Michigan.
By
1870, downtown Three Rivers already boasted long-handle-pump drinking fountains
on its street corners. This busy community supported a paper mill, a sawmill, a
planning mill, two pump factories, six churches, one newspaper, a baseball
club, and several social clubs by 1874. Electrical power became available in
187l. At that time, the village maintained nine streetlights.
The
Chamber of Commerce building on West Michigan Avenue still commemorates the
first Indian campsites and the travels of LaSalle in 1680--first-known white
man to explore southwest Michigan. Main and Michigan intersect downtown,
marking the site of the early Mission built by Jesuit missionaries.
A
large boulder, with a bronze memorial tablet imbedded into it, marks the site
of the 1802 skirmish that took place between certain Shawnee Indians and a
Federation of tribes. The City eventually incorporated this site into Scidmore
Park, establishing the site in 1921 in honor of Dr. Scidmore. He donated the
land on which the zoo currently resides, as well as the land occupied by the
airport.
The
community held its first Homecoming in 1906. Main Street looked much different
then than now, being crowded with horses and carriages. The Soldier’s Monument,
now guards Bowman Park, whereas it once stood in the center of the intersection
at Michigan Avenue and Main Street--then called St. Joe Street.
Numerous
footbridges spanned the rivers and facilitated easy traffic to and from various
areas of the community. The Hook and Ladder Company used horses and a wagon to
haul their fire equipment and in 1915, J. W. and Mrs. Kingsley opened Three
Rivers’ first hospital.
Other
Historical Markers include the following sites. The Soldier’s Memorial stood in
Riverside Cemetery, after being erected in 1903 to honor the soldiers of the
Union Army. The Jesuit Mission Site was located at Main and Michigan,
before later serving as the site of Michigan Power Company. It has since
relocated, leaving a church congregating in the old facility.
They
inscribed the bronze tablet on the large boulder in Scidmore Park in 1921, to
designate the site of the 1802 battle between Shawnee and Federated Indian
Tribes. On West Michigan Avenue, adjacent to the Chamber of Commerce
building, the Michigan Historic Marker commemorates the site of frequent
Indian camps, during LaSalle’s travels through the region in 1680, as well as
river navigation to-and-from Lake Michigan.
While
River City offers much to satisfy the curiosity of history buffs, our narrative
follows the First Church of God on its journey out of down town to Pearl
Street, and out to SE M-86. The following chapter provides a time line and
profile of congregational leadership across the first century.
_______________
CHAPTER THREE - “A Church Profile”
The church of the
living God is. . .
the result of men and
women being saved in Jesus,
and therefore joined
together by the Lord
in the ‘bond of
perfectness’ . . .
By abiding only in
Christ, his body the church,
we stand on the
foundation which includes all Christians
in heaven and earth;
and not as a member
of any sect, or cut-off faction.”
-D. S. Warner-
“The Church of God”
PASTORS OF RECORD
June
---- 1888 -Mr. & Mrs. Leroy Burton, Founding Pastors.
1900-1905, 1907 -Mertie Smith, first female pastor.
1917 - Mertie
Smith, Pastor of record in first Yearbook.
1918 - Wm. Hartman (Kalamazoo), Longtime
Overseer
1918-1925 -
James Erastus Jenkins, Pastor,
1923-1924 -
Raymond S. Jackson, alternate pastor, Co-pastor.
1924-1927 -
Samuel Mead Appointed by William Hartman.
1927 -
Mertie Smith, First pastor elected by local vote.
1928-1933 -
William Leatherman.
1933-1934 -
Mario L. Coffman, first salaried pastor.
1934 - Harry Foster (shortest service),died
unexpectedly after
serving 2 months.
1935 - Homer
Pontius.
1937-1940 -
William Leatherman.
1940 - Cecil Van Hoose.
1944-1947 -
Alva and Mary Claxton.
1-48-3-1952 -
Virgil and Mary Brinkman.
6-01-52--1954 - Vern Barker.
9-27-54--1959 - Samuel and Eleanor Dooty.
1959----1962 - Marvin and Estelle Moser.
5-62--6-1965 - Wayne and Barbara Halbleib.
1965--6-30-72 - Richard and Thelma Struthers.
1973-1976 -
Fred and Wanda James.
1976-1978 -
Richard Nichols.
5-79--9-18-1996 -
Wayne and Tommie Warner.
1996--1998 -
John and Peggy McClimans, Interim Pastors.
1998--2020 - John and Peggy McClimans,
2020--Present - Richard and Diane Hertsel
KNOWN ASSOCIATE
PASTORS
1888- - Numerous “flying ministers,” including
- S. Michels, W. B. Grover, Leroy Sheldon.
1979-1981
- Silas Dan Turnbow.
1985-1988
- D. Scott Warner.
1986-1996
- John T. McClimans.
1992-1994
- Craig Stace, (Music and Worship)
1986-1998
- John McClimans
-Virgil Taylor
- Richard D. and Diane Hertsel
Earliest
leadership came from lay-leaders, gospel workers, and ministers--local and
itinerant. Our earliest preachers were called “flying messengers.” They
traveled as itinerant evangelists--serving by faith. They considered paid
preachers “hirelings”, believing them products of sectism. Three Rivers Church
of God consequently had no paid pastor during its first fifty years of
existence, not until1933.
The
congregation benefited greatly from numerous flying ministers. Supply
Preachers, Interim Pastors, short-term and occasional itinerant Gospel Workers
went everywhere. Local bodies did not
always maintain fastidious schedules; rather they depended heavily on the
availability of interested individuals.
In
addition to the persons listed above, this volume would be incomplete without
mentioning two area pastors, both from the same congregation. William Henry
Hartman--spent fifty-four years as Kalamazoo’s first settled pastor. “Dad”
Hartman, as many of us knew him, served area churches as an unelected Presiding
Bishop. He frequently oversaw administration of the Three Rivers congregation,
as well as other area responsibilities, including Grand Junction Camp Meeting.
The
other pastor that deserves special appreciation and thanks for extraordinary
support is Senior Pastor, Gary Ausbun--Kalamazoo Westwood at the time.
As a neighbor pastor, Gary worked hard at assisting Three Rivers. Throughout
his Kalamazoo tenure, he worked hard at maintaining competent leadership in
southwestern Michigan churches. Now retired in Elkhart, IN., Gary and Frankie
remain warm friends, respected co-workers, and national leaders. We still
exchange greetings at convenient interludes, each of us retired relatively
close to Three Rivers.
James
(Jim) Malbone--Kalamazoo Westwood--supplied at Three Rivers and preached
revivals. An all-around favorite of young and old in southwest Michigan, Jim
still serves actively in Arizona at this writing and deserves more than an
honorable mention here.
Three
local lay leaders had special influence during interim periods, especially
1978-79. These guest leaders include Interim Pastor Terry Boynton, Three
Rivers First Church of the Nazarene, Parnell L. Alexander, now
ministering on Kalamazoo’s North side, and Mrs. Elizabeth “Liz” Childress,
Three Rivers First Baptist Church.
Virgil
and Kathy Taylor returned to Three Rivers and during our tenure. Virgil
acknowledged to me his calling to pastoral ministry and later served as
Associate Pastor to John McClimans, followed by a short stint in nearby
Vandalia as bi-vocational pastors of that small multiracial congregation.
They
followed in the rich tradition of Raymond Jackson, until Virgil resigned from
active ministry in mid-2005. Following their divorce, Virgil remarried, and
Kathy resides in the Constantine area. We maintain contact as much as possible.
Richard
and Dianne Hertsel first met in the Crescent City, on the Gulf. They left New
Orleans for Three Rivers, when FedEx relocated Richard. Diane, a New Orleans
native, married Richard after he moved south from Elkhart, Indiana. On moving
to Three Rivers, they attended First Church of the Nazarene, but felt
providentially led to the Church of God when John McClimans ministered to them
in a uniquely personal way.
Eventually,
Richard accepted a call to ministry and began the credentialing track for
ordination with the Church of God in Michigan. They now serve as full-time
Senior Pastors at Centre Avenue Church in Portage. We admire their fortitude
and wish them well as they continue growing in their ability to serve in
ministry.
-000-
TIMELINE OF EVENTS
1888-1932 -- Two couples began holding home services. An
ongoing group developed,
meeting frequently in homes, led by itinerant and lay ministers. At
other times they met in a theatre and above a garage.
1932-1933 --
Members and friends rejoiced at completion of the original 18 x 28 frame chapel.
1933
-- The men of the church raised the building, added twelve feet in length
and digging
a fully enclosed basement.
1940
-- Ross Ream led in the building of a small frame parsonage.
1942
-- Remodeled the church structure.
1944
-- Added two rooms to the parsonage.
1949
-- Burned the mortgage, built
first small parsonage and obtained a church bus.
1954
– Launched a Building Fund;
records report adding a bathtub to present parsonage.
1959 -- Purchased 1111 South Main Street as a
parsonage. Took option to buy 1107
South Main Street. Purchased the small
house in between, completing the 1.7-acre site.
1963
-- Purchased first organ--payment completed in 1965.
1981
-- Purchased 5-acres with option for 2 on M-86, east-side.
1984 -- Broke ground and erected multi-purpose
unit on new property at 17398
M-86.
1985 -- Moved to new site;
sold Chapel-Annex and 1107 Main.
1988
-- Centennial Year.
1979-1996 – Warner’s retired 9-18-96 after 17 years, 8-months.
_______________
CHAPTER FOUR - “The New Church in
Town”
In the 1880’s LeRoy
Burton and his wife
lived in Three Rivers
as Free Methodist Ministers.
During the summer of
1888, or before,
the Burton's attended
the Bangor Camp Meeting.
In August 1890,
W. B. and Henrietta
Grover and Leroy Sheldon and wife
arrived in Three
Rivers with three tents--
one for each couple
to live in
and a larger tent for
public gatherings.
Laughter Among the
Trumpets/237
Gale Hetrick & Company/1980
The
Works Project Administration--lampooned by anti-social conservatives as
Roosevelt’s WPA--published “The Michigan Historical Records Survey Project” in
May 1941. I quote:
“9. CHURCH OF GOD, 1890--, S.
Main and Pearl Sts., Three Rivers, St. Joseph County.
Organized 1890. From 1890 to 1930 services held in private homes and a rented hall. First and present church building dedicated
1930; enlarged 1933, frame
structure. First settled Clergyman, Rev. Myrtie Fosdick, tenure unknown. Present Clergyman, Rev Martin L. Van Hoose, 110 South Main St.,
Three Rivers. No records found”
(Willard Library History Room/
Battle Creek).
That
project informs accurately but insufficiently. Its simplicity begs for detail,
lacking much of what we want to know about the people. What we do know is the
Church of God in Three Rivers evolved out of that flurry of religious
revivalism that coalesced in the area of Bangor, MI and Grand Junction, 1882-1898.
It
came late in the westward push of frontier religion, edging westward from New
York State into the Northwest Territory. A fledgling group gathered around the
preaching-publishing efforts of Elder Daniel Sidney Warner. Warner focused
primarily on revival and reformation preaching, which his publishing efforts
only accented.
Quickly
identifying as a reformation movement, Warner’s followers challenged Christians
of all denominations. They invited people to restore experiential religion and
reform sectarian practices. Referring to
the Gospel Trumpet---periodical Warner published--former Editor in Chief
Harold L. Phillips called Warner’s magazine “the spearhead in the advance of
the movement and his message” (Vital Christianity/1-4-1981/2).
First
edited and published by Warner, the Gospel Trumpet increasingly resulted
through the efforts of a few highly committed, mostly-young zealots. Their
cooperative “volunteer ministry” provided printed messages for the voluntary
“flying messengers” that Editor Phillips described as the “fiery evangelists of
those pioneer days.”
They
were admittedly radical! Many were quite young, but not all, by any means. The
“flying messengers” went everywhere, staying nowhere. They zealously visited
communities nationwide, with no plan for planting permanent congregations. They
challenged established churches everywhere to restore the standard of holiness
and unity at a time when most denominations competed vigorously with their
denominational emphases. Before long, they initiated urban Mission
Stations--from which to serve, send, and train workers. The Publishing House also
launched other efforts for promoting holiness and global unity.
The
Flying Messengers gathered individuals like Leroy Burden, who wrote the
following letter from Three Rivers to the editor of The Gospel Trumpet (8-1-1885),
then published at Williamston, Michigan:
Three Rivers, Mich.
[June 21]
Dear
Brethren:--God bless you all abundantly. Glory to God! I am free.
I
can now claim every true child of God on earth, as a member with me in the one body, the true Church of the First -born,
who are written in heaven. “For we are all
the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus.’ We are all one in Christ Jesus
our living Head, sanctified wholly
through His blood.
I
have not one cent to give, only for the truth, the pure Gospel of Christ. ‘If
there come any unto you and bring
not this doctrine, receive him not into your house, neither bid him God’s speed.’ 2 John 10. Christ says, ‘My
sheep hear My voice, and they
follow Me. Christ is our way, we walk in Him. He is the truth, we embrace Him. He is our life, we live in Him. He
is our Lord, we obey Him. He is our Master, we serve Him. He is our teacher,
we walk in His footsteps. Glory to God
and the Lamb forever!
Let
us be faithful to Him and follow Him while we live in this world. Yea, ‘let us not sleep as do others, but let us watch
and be sober, looking and hastening unto the
coming of our Lord and Savior Jesus
Christ.’ Glory, glory be to God for His wonderful
loving kindness unto the children of men. It is glorious to be saved from all sin through the blood of
Christ.
Your brother.
Leroy Burden
This
“flying ministry” exploded in all directions. Traveling from village to village
as itinerant messengers, they reminded one of that West Texas Rancher hurriedly
pushing his way up to a Panhandle ticket counter. Pounding on the desk, he
demanded quick service.
When the Ticket Agent asked where he wanted to
go, he bellowed “anywhere! I’ve got business everywhere.”
Those
early messengers went without rhyme or reason. They followed a divine
imperative. They knew they had business everywhere, and they went anywhere they were invited. Some
became so convicted of the imminent return of Christ they went uninvited,
without preparation or program. Many communities they went into no longer exist
as part of our geography, but the young reformers remain what they were--young
reform-minded zealots.
The
soon return (Advent) of Christ had been a prominent theme among Christians
since the Mille rites of the early-middle decades of the nineteenth century.
Goaded by a perceived need to harvest as quickly as possible, our early
pioneers went wherever they could, converting whoever they could rescue before
the Lord of the Harvest made his imminent return.
They
frequently lacked the luxury of time and failed to nurture developing
congregations. Yet, a veritable beehive of individuals and small cells soon met
in countless communities across North America. “Scattered Saints” were active
everywhere--many isolated. Among those congregations quickly taking more
permanent form is our Three Rivers congregation.
Most
of these congregations witnessed actively wherever they were, blooming wherever
planted. After a few years of congregational life, some smaller groups ceased
to exist. They lacked nurturing and died, thus Dr. Riggle‘s expressed regret.
In
some communities, it would take years--decades--before permanent congregations
germinated into plants sturdy enough to survive. My hometown of South Haven,
MI. became an example of this. That community hosted Church of God activities
from at least the early 1880‘s. They numbered some of their finest citizens
among those earliest Saints, but all congregational efforts remained peripheral
to the publishing ministry that located in Grand Junction.
South
Haven, ten miles west of Grand Junction, had no permanent congregation until
the winter of 1922-23. That winter, my father, grandmother, two aunts--Myrtle
and Maude—as well as Uncle Clarence, became art of a core group rallying around
S. Michels. They began meeting as a visible, ongoing body of reformers,
protesting denominational division and the church’s blatant disregard for
holiness.
Noteworthy
were those Holiness denominations where denominational loyalty frequently
became overly intense and bitterly competitive. Each one asserted its
individual brand of distinctive and superior “holiness” and that became what
most often divided them, rather than uniting them.
During
those early years, the “flying messengers” blanketed southwestern Michigan,
assisted by the publishing ministry. Twelve years in Grand Junction established
the Gospel Trumpet Publishing Company as a viable business and a popular
producer of religious literature; they also found themselves the leaders of a
now-growing reform movement. The Michigan Saints, as Ray Selent loved to remind
people, formed the cradle that rocked the infant Movement into its adolescence.
That
adolescent child left its Michigan home and moved to Moundsville, WVA,
expanding its challenge in all directions. They invited saints and sinners
alike to discover true faith. They challenged sincere people to live saintly
and sanctified lives. They invited people to enlist in God’s one-of-a-kind
family, and at the heart of their core values was the church.
They
were quite human, and far from perfect! They did not always comprehend what
they perceived as the larger picture of God‘s Church! Sometimes, they failed to
put their best foot forward. Nor, did they always interpret scripture
accurately. Their opinions occasionally were purely that--“opinionation.” Some
have dared to suggest they misunderstood the scriptures … idealized them in
their attempt to live outside the denominational boundaries they so fiercely
demonized.
From
where we are today, I ask myself: were they pushing the envelope? Doubtless,
they proclaimed some profound biblical truths that changed the contours of the
universal church and increased the effectiveness of the Christian witness.
Obviously, the public sometimes misunderstood them. At other times, they were
simply unappreciated!
Occasionally,
they struggled among themselves, attempting to sort out the complexities of
their non-conformist living, in a society that demanded conformity. Life for
them was not always easy, especially when they attempted to maintain common
bonds of humanity without conforming to the social-and-cultural mores.
Church
of God Ministries office at Anderson still wrestles with difficult choices, as
it tries to determine how best to define and direct a global church movement
serving in nearly ninety nations around the world. Although birthed in North
America‘s heartland, The Church of God [Anderson] message now circles the
globe, and includes more people outside of North America than inside.
The
chapters that follow form the story of one small vest pocket of people living in
an out of the way community shaped by the convergence of three (3) rivers. The
stories are all true. At their best, they tell only a partial story. At
minimum, they reflect the up-and-down places we all experience, the ebb and
flow of change that rides across their century like a “rollercoaster.”
For
my part, I was twice-born into the protective walls of this institution once called
the Church of God Reformation Movement. I have tried to produce an easy-to-read
story, and if my interpretation shows bias, it only means I have given the
facts as I knew them and that I try to tell them as fairly as possible. My
stories are intended to offer positive hope. I overlook no one by intent. I
honor that unnumbered host of witnesses, some of whom remain anonymous to this
day, even if essential to the narrative. Everyone has a story to tell and I
believe everyone deserves a hearing.
In
assessing our global church fairly and accurately, as I perceive it; I offer
Three Rivers as a mere tiny thread in a loosely patch-worked quilt of
multiplied strands of yarn, loose threading, and small-scraps of material. All
together: these complete a garment whose underside sometimes appears ragged;
but, IF THAT IS ALL YOU SEE, you need to understand the topside offers a
lovely, warm blanket that has comforted, transformed, and lifted the lives of
an innumerable company of sojourners that follow in the wake of “where the
Saints have trod.”
Transition
for them came slowly! The automobile accelerated their pace, bringing dramatic
changes. Some of that transition they still struggle with, such as, how to keep
pace in our high-tech space-and-information age, while living in a new millennium.
Like them; we struggle with problems whose roots trace back to the Garden of
Eden.
Studying
our heritage makes me “aware” of the foibles and failures of our reform-minded
ancestors, but we need to celebrate their successes! Balance requires constant
and objective re-evaluation. Thus, we purpose to live “in the world”
even when finding it difficult to avoid being “of the world.” We cling
to perspectives that tell us life offers more than what we see with our natural
eyes; we really do believe that we live in the suburbs of an unseen--yet
real--heavenly realm.
Tommie
and I invested just shy of eighteen years in “TR” climaxing forty-five years of
sojourning up and down--around, under and over--pastoral trails of Church
ministry. Some readers will quickly grasp that I chose to review this journey
through the lenses of Israel’s chosen people, as a sojourn toward the Promise
Land. Allow this good biblical metaphor to fortify your faith, open your
insights, and anchor your integrity.
I
offer these stories to bless and encourage you, while urging you to add your
own story … in your own time! I conclude this chapter with a letter from an early
“TR” resident, Free Methodist Minister Leroy Burden:
Three Rivers, Mich.
Dear
Brethren:
I
want to say to the glory of God I am kept by the power of God, through faith, ready to be revealed in the last day. I have the witness of the
Spirit that I am sanctified
wholly to God, soul, body and spirit. Praise God forever and ever! Amen!
Heb,
9:13-14. “For if the blood of bulls and goats, and the ashes of a heifer sprinkling
the unclean, sanctifieth to the purifying of the flesh; how much more shall the blood of Christ, who through
the eternal Spirit offered himself without spot
to God, Purge your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?’
Heb.
10:10. “By the which will we are sanctified through the offering of the body of Christ once for all.’ I praise God for a
full and complete salvation. Glory be to Jesus,
He is leading me. Amen! Sanctify them through Thy truth: Thy Word is truth.—John 17:17.
‘To
the law and to the testimony: if they speak not according to this word, it is because there is no light in them.’ --Isa.
8:20.
It
cannot be denied that God, in the scriptures, has set up a standard of salvation far above that taught in the sects, and far above
that accepted by the average professor
of Christianity at the present day.
The
Bible teaches that men should be holy in all manner of conversation; that they
should be perfect even as our Father
in heaven is perfect; that they should cleanse
themselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit perfecting holiness in the fear of the Lord. Glory be to God! I
have the victory in my soul.
O
Brethren, help me praise God for His goodness. ‘He that saith, `I know him, and keepeth not His commandments is a liar, and the truth is not in him.’--John
2:4.
‘Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man
love the world, the
love of the Father is not in him.--John 2:15.
I
praise God for a salvation that saves from all sin. I realize that the precious
blood of Jesus cleanseth me from all
sin, and the very God of peace sanctifies me wholly
forever! Pray for me that my faith fail not and, that I may grow stronger and stronger, and ever live low down
at the Savior’s feet.
Leroy Burden
The Gospel Trumpet, 2-1-1886
_______________
CHAPTER FIVE - “The Long Road
to Three Rivers”
Some people turn back their
odometers, but not me;
I want people to know
“why I look this way.
I’ve traveled a long
way and not all of the
roads were paved.
--Adapted
In
1946 a young Airman thumbed his way across a frigid Midwest. Leaving Scott
Field, Illinois, he left to spend Christmas with his parents. Enduring snow and
bitter cold, he arrived in Anderson, IN., planning to spend the night and push
on home. Learning that the college was hosting the nationally ranked North
Carolina State Wolf Pack, he determined to see the game before moving on.
“Jumping Johnnie Wilson,” would be leading the Raven's charge against the
nation’s third ranked basketball team.
That
traveler and former student, found his life forever changed by attending that
game. “AC’s” unranked Ravens forced the “NC” Wolf-pack into a third overtime
that evening, before losing by a single point. A “nobody,” Anderson College
(AU) turned a corner in intercollegiate athletics that night, as did the young Airman.
During
the game, our young Airman sought a date with a friend we will call Jeannie, who
rejected his invitation but invited him to her dorm for a home visit and hot
chocolate following the game. Her parents—Reverend and Mrs. C. A. Longton, former
Michigan pastors--were college dorm parents. That visit also introduced our
young Airman to one of Jeannie’s friends--a feisty, pint-sized freshman from
Houston, Texas with hair as black as shoe polish--also Johnnie Wilson’s English
mentor.
The
quick-witted stranger soon revealed both a quick wit and sharp tongue. That
young man failed at dating Jeannie, whom he had known as a student, but he succeeded
in marrying her friend. More than six decades later, he would admit to marrying
a woman who understood far more about life than he did.
When
serious, he admits she loved him with an unconditional love he did not then
comprehend, but now compares to the grace of God. Truth be told, he admits that
when God called him into church ministry “God loved me even more than that
small-boned southern girl with a heart as big as Texas--that Irish-Cherokee
with jet-black hair has walked beside me, over the mountains and through the
valleys for sixty-eight years; she was a true gift from God.”
God blessed that
young man more abundantly than he knew. In time, God privileged him with
participating in the joys, sorrows, problems and perplexities of nine
congregations. Ordination and church ministry heightened his sense of holy
things. With the consent of the church, and with the cooperation of involved
congregations, the little Texan supported him fully and unreservedly.
The
Church of God of Arkansas concluded that his calling came from God and offered
their blessing before he thought to ask for it. To this day, he remains
indebted to Pastors Elzie Brown, Crossett; J. Lloyd Brown, Fordyce; and
Homer Trick, Twelfth and Thayer, Little Rock. These men recognized
potential worth in a very young, green-as-grass, freshman pastor, serving a
newly started church in Harrison.
That
collegial act of faith confirmed a ministerial calling, but offered a difficult
assignment for a beginner to fulfill. Consequently, a relocation resulted
within the year--southwest Texas. Thus, on March 13, 1952, the Texas Ministerial
Assembly (TMA), meeting in regular session at Hampton Place Church of God in
Dallas, ordained the young pastor on the strength of the recommendation that
followed him from Arkansas.
That
Texas Credentials Committee--Leslie Gaylord, McAllen; James H. Shell,
Ballinger; and Robert Lee (Uncle Bob) Strickland, Lufkin--laid prayerful
hands on Wayne Warner of San Angelo, Frank Couvisier of Sweetwater, and
Thaddeus Swonger of Tyler. That 1952
Texas Assembly provided me a platform from which to proclaim that
God
Redeems
Our
Worth
Through
Himself.
No
vocation that I know can compare with the blessed privilege of serving the Body
of Christ. Nine congregations in seven states trusted me with the high
privilege of spiritually mentoring them. They honored me with the sacred trust,
intimately involving me in their private lives, ably assisted by my especially-called
spouse. I immersed myself in that pilgrimage into my seventh decade--June
1951--September 1996. Then I slowed to a more controlled pace.
During
our student years in Pacific Bible College--now Warner Pacific College—Tommie
and I met Coral Bergfeld. This widowed Michigander aspired to return to
Michigan and plant a new church. Later, we met Coral’s daughter, Marjorie Ream
and husband Homer. Eventually we became Marge’s pastors, and more recently
attended Homer‘s funeral.
In
time, I learned my mother knew Marge Ream. Marge had lived in South Haven for a
brief span during her escapades about the country with Homer and his GTE
crew--General Telephone Company. However, neither of us had any idea we would
one-day terminate forty-five years of ministry by finishing them in Coral’s
hometown, as Marge‘s pastors, but it would be a long journey to Three Rivers.
I
graduated from Pacific Bible College (PBC) May 25, 1951. After concluding our
Friday evening graduation exercises, Tommie and I turned our loaded Plymouth
away from the Mt. Tabor campus, headed east on Foster Road and began an
all-night adventure.
By
Saturday afternoon, the Green Hornet’s manifold gave up. Without a muffler, we
roared across Eastern Oregon highlands sounding like a farm tractor. Upon
finding a garage, we dipped into our cash reserve and paid for the needed
replacement of our defunct exhaust system. We spent too much of Saturday in
Vale, Oregon--wasting precious time and exhausting both patience and
billfold--again driving all night.
We
arrived in Boise, Idaho early Sunday morning. There; we discovered a new
problem, while driving through downtown Boise. Stopping at a Service Station,
we discovered a helpful attendant who found a crimped flex-line cutting off our
gas supply. We concluded that God helped us find this special person that we
needed. It cost us only $1.50 for part and replacement and we departed,
thanking God for graciously looking out for us.
We
spent that night in nearby Caldwell, with our friends and former pastors Byrum
and Genevieve Lee and their children. We had assisted them at Oregon City,
Oregon during our student days and revered them. They hosted us graciously and
we gained a good rest. From there, we sped southeastward in the Green
Hornet—fifty (50-55 mph) miles per hour.
Arriving
at Cheyenne’s Francis E. Warren Airbase just as the midnight students came off
duty from their Technical School, we felt gratified for our short visit with
Maurice, Tommie’s baby brother. After years of serving in Oklahoma pastorates,
and as the Oklahoma State Minister, “Mo” lived alone in Moore as a retired
widower, until his death in 2015.
With
gas and lodging funds considerably depleted, we turned south toward Camp
Carson, Colorado, where we rendezvoused with Bennett Allen (Bennie) Stiles, Tommie’s
next younger brother. We anticipated a short visit, expecting to push on,
knowing that we lacked motel money. Ben caught on and insisted that we stay
with him at a nearby motel. We gratefully obliged, while he watched his new
weeks-old niece, but we were too embarrassed to tell him, we lacked the funds.
Later,
I felt a bit chagrined to discover that Ben thought his Yankee brother-in-law
was a skinflint German--too tight to treat his sister to the amenities she
deserved. A day finally came when Ben sat in our North Texas living room--Fort
Worth--long after he became a Christian and shared his changed attitude about
our Colorado visit. He admitted he had not realized our limited circumstances.
Being young and single, he concluded the only other obvious--I was a religious
fanatic and abused his sister; I expected too much. I was stingy with my
family. Therefore, he insisted that we stay with him at a motel and rest on his
nickel.
We
had become better acquainted in those intervening years. Now a successful
Missouri-Kansas-Oklahoma business man, Ben had watched our self-sacrificing
discipline in ministry, and concluded that we lived with a faith that he
admired. He saw that our faith fortified us to stand steady when hassled by
difficult circumstances beyond our control. Realizing that we had no other
option at the time of our Colorado visit, Ben changed his perspective and
confessed candid admiration of our commitment. He became a committed Christian,
willingly risking himself and his resources for numerous missionary
causes.
Meantime,
aided by a strong stubborn streak, blessed with a strong constitution, and
assisted by large mugs of black coffee, I drove our Green Hornet straight
through from Colorado Springs to Welty, Oklahoma in twenty-eight hours. We
stayed one night with Tommie’s parents, Doctor G. S. (Doc) and Mary Stiles.
We
drove into Harrison, Arkansas at 8:00 o’clock Friday evening, having left
Portland on Friday of the previous weekend. We spent our second weekend on the
job in Arkansas, where I conducted my first services and preached my first
sermons to my first congregation. With dogged determination, we had chalked up
2,500 miles at fifty miles an hour in our twelve-year-old 1939 Plymouth with
its rebuilt engine.
Wandering
through some of America’s most extravagant glories, we skirted the base of
Mount Hood and exited a Pacific Northwest we dearly loved. We crossed the Rocky
Mountains, worried our way across the Great Plains, wandered through the scenic
Northwest Arkansas White River gorge and arrived at our destination at 8:30
p.m. Friday evening--bone weary.
Once
on site, we prepared to launch a new phase of our lives. Harrison, a typically
small, sleepy southern county seat--hub of the rural Ozarks and home to 5,000
people, now became our new home--the church basement. For the rest of that
summer, we scrimped existentially on our new salary of fifteen dollars weekly.
I
picked Arkansas flint-rock with a pickaxe at Bull Shoals Dam for ninety cents
an hour, working for the Chairman of my Board of Trustees. This put milk on the
table for our six-week-old “preemie” and launched forty-five years of fluster
and flurry. Meanwhile, we facilitated
events, fortified people, and fortuitously enjoyed what I had long dreamed of
doing.
Shouldering
a full load, we took oversight of a new mission church, launched by Warren
Kendall just three years before. Within days, we joined Portland
friends--Herman and Leola Harris--at the unfinished site of the new Arkansas
State Youth Camp. Tommie parked our two-month-old preemie--in her $15.00 buggy.
“Benched” at one end of the Dining Hall, Meredith allowed her mother to join
the Draft and substitute as a last minute replacement for an absentee Cook.
I
led youth conferences on witnessing and served as a camp counselor. The
cooperative ministries of Arkansas effectively inhaled--efficiently absorbed,
and eventually introduced us to our career in ministry - sometimes short-lived
with relationships sometimes changing rapidly. Our pastoral peers, nonetheless,
welcomed us into a closely-knit and deeply committed circle of loving people.
They literally wrapped their arms around us and held us tightly to their
hearts.
That
special group of evangelists, pastors, and gospel workers included Warren
& Leota Kendall, Herman and Leola Harris, J. Lloyd and Naomi
Brown, Elzie Brown and family, the Elzie Tricks, Everett & Mary Richey,
and the stream gradually widened across America. The Church of God of Arkansas taught our
first Pastoral Ministries 101 Basic Seminar at Life University.
We
launched at Harrison--personally recruited by Herman Harris. We went highly
recommended, but sight-unseen. Herman was a friend, brother, and fellow student
in our student days, an older, already experienced minister. This crusty
veteran from Yellville, Arkansas--taking time for re-tooling in school--sought
us out. The people of Harrison sought him out and insisted he negotiate all
arrangements, except they refused to allow him to tell us anything about them.
They requested him to secure a graduating senior, someone that knew nothing of
their circumstances.
He
agreed and solicited our services, knowing I was graduating. Eager, naïve,
flattered, and innocent--I was the first of my class to know where I was going
after graduation. Twenty-five hundred miles later; I, with wife of four years
and our two-month-old “preemie” were in Northwest Arkansas. Like the Little
League team whose coach described them as “undefeated, unscored on, and all
ready for their first game”, we were ready.
We
arrived with our pockets filled with dreams and aspirations, and our car
tightly packed full of our minimal accumulations either inside the car, or on
top of it. Our twelve-year-old Plymouth owned a solid body, and a re-built
engine that promised dependable transportation, if not abused. We bought it in
preparation for our relocation, purchasing it from a trusted friend--Walter
Vickery, an older student from Grand Rapids, MI. Dubbing it our “Green Hornet,” we paid Walt
the agreed four hundred dollars. After three years of riding the city transit
with Harley--friend of all students on the Hawthorne bus run--we had arrived!
Twenty-twenty
hindsight suggests no one should launch into ministry as trustingly as we did.
Never, would we repeat that error again! To this day, we consider it among the
more foolish things we have done, but it launched us into ministry and set us
on a course for blazing some new trails, stabilizing some older congregations,
revitalizing some small--struggling congregations, and occasionally enjoying
better circumstances in between the bitter assignments. Now in Harrison, we
could sink or swim--cry or grow up; we could cut bait, or fish! Once launched,
we never look back. We pressed forward ... as long as we could see movement in
the right direction.
By
the time we relocated to South Georgia, we arrived close to the time Martin
Luther King settled into Montgomery, AL. While he stayed and became a civil
rights hero, we soon moved into other responsibilities in West Virginia, where
we discovered education still “no-no.”
Young
preachers like me--college graduates that went to a “preacher factory”--were
sometimes publicly ridiculed as “young jackasses.” The unelected Bishop, who
superintended a coalition of part-time bi-vocational pastors that worked in the
coalmines, breathed fire and brimstone while blowing smoke from his nostrils,
but he knew the doctrines!
In
Mississippi, we arrived just in time to endure the unconscionable debacles
relative to James Meredith and Horace Germany. We served two churches in Texas,
surviving the worst drought of a half-century and experiencing a killer
tornado. During our second stint in Texas--Fort Worth Ridglea--I earned a
seminary degree and did selected graduate studies.
We
loved the opulent magnificence of the great Southwest. We reveled in the
diversity we found in California--a different breed, true enough! After a
twenty-eight year hiatus, we returned to the familiar confines of my Michigan
roots. Beginning in Anderson, IN, we transitioned to Portland, OR. We entered
ministry in Harrison, AR., taking intervening detours through San Angelo, TX,
Bainbridge, GA, Wheeling, WVA, Yazoo City, MS, Fort Worth, TX and Vallejo, CA,
before returning to Michigan where we finally concluded our journey in Three
Rivers, MI. The journey proved long and arduous, but deeply rewarding.
The
nearly eighteen years we invested in “TR” concluded four and one-half decades
as Church of God pastors. It added a
bonus by being within an hour and a half drive of Lake Michigan--near my
parents for the first time in a quarter-century. That proved significant and
allowed me meaningful participation in the final days of dad and mother’s
sixty-four-year sojourn. At Mother’s request, I conducted dad’s Memorial
Service--January 6, 1991. That left me eight good years with my widowed
mother--until August 1998--when I left her at peace in God’s care.
The
Three Rivers' years left me older than I had ever been but far wiser than when
I arrived. I stood three inches shorter, the result of a fall experienced while
working on our new facility in November 1985.
The church had experienced many discouraging times prior to our arrival
and did not promise us much. Yet, the challenge of taking a dying church into a
new future, turning an historical corner, and writing a new chapter appealed to
me. The dream eventually unfolded and we created a new “all-purpose” facility.
That
relocation promised a challenge through transforming a sixty-six-acre cornfield
into a ministry center adequate to serve local and area church needs for a new
century. We completed the first phase. On the other hand, growth lagged when it
should have accelerated.
Development of that larger campus
would call for new levels of expanding ministry, but that could come only with
more adequate support at all levels. I could only envision the day the
congregation [and its leadership] would “see” the bold vision. Never again, did
I want to see this congregation disintegrate and wander off hither and yon, as
happened repeated times before we arrived. The best days are yet ahead, but
they will require a re-energized and more-spiritually-sensitive leadership and an
accompanying vision.
Personally,
I had long wanted to live in the same community long
enough to plant down roots into people’s lives. Three Rivers gave me seventeen
years to achieve a degree of that vision. The following pages tell many stories
of the congregation's first one hundred years, but not all by any means.
Over
the decades, these “saints” evolved into a global-wide, religious network of cooperative
ministries, missionary causes, and other expressions of Christian cooperation.
While some still refer to us as the Church of God Reformation Movement, most
refer to us simply as the Church of God, Anderson; (with General Offices, Anderson,
Indiana). The reformation mindset that fueled those earliest years now
emphasizes mainline orthodoxy and consists of more heritage and history than
reformation, some of which may call for some course correction
Many
congregations now covet the robes of denominational respectability from the
very same “sectism” with which the early “Saints” once quarreled and “came out
of.” When Tommie and I entered pastoral ministry in 1951, we “intentionally
worked as mainline Protestants.” In
Three Rivers, it was my privilege to serve a dozen years as Treasurer of the
local Ministerial Association (TRMA). The close fellowship substantially
enriched my life. In addition, I served on the St. Joe County Substance Abuse
Council. At the time of my retirement, I was a member of the newly forming
Countywide Domestic Violence Task Force. My relationships around the “Michiana
region” were some of the richest, most cordial, and most enjoyable of our entire
ministry.
As
we looked ahead to a possible 1988 Centennial celebration, I envisioned a small
book, possibly fifty-or-so pages. In time, I dared dream of a book-sized
published-history, but that proved an elusive dream that faded in and out like
morning clouds on a hot July day.
Simultaneously, our years of scrimping, scraping, and sacrificing our
way into a relocation project, finally brought us face to face with that
illusive giant I call “Moving Day, Ready or Not.”
Between
one Sunday and the next, we moved out of our Pearl Street chapel and into an
unfinished all-purpose unit--without comforts. A slab floor contained
four framed walls and a roof supported by a lined interior of bare studding,
called walls. We had none of the necessary conveniences essential to public
facilities.
The
journey became discouraging, toilsome, and unnecessarily extended. Adversity
forced us to scale high peaks. Discouragement and despair led us through deep
canyons. But through it all, there remained one thing we would not do--COULD
NOT DO; surrender! We refused to fold our tents and hang our instruments on
the Willow Trees, as did ancient Israel.
Beginning
with D. S. Warner—patron saint, pioneer, preacher-publisher, and poet-songwriter;
Church of God people, to this day, remain resilient singing people. When Warner
met teenaged Barney Warren at Geneva Center [rural South Haven], his preaching
and personality compelled Barney to accept his own personal call to Christian
ministry.
Barney’s
biggest obstacle was overcoming his father’s stubborn resistance, but
eventually Barney and his brothers entered Church of God ministry, joined by
their father, Tom. Author Axchie Bolitho claims brother George pastored in
Battle Creek for a time, although this remains unconfirmed otherwise (To the
Chief Singer/ G. T. Co./1942/33). Barney’s brother William became a
frequent travelling companion of evangelist S. Michels.
As
for Barney, he sang bass, while also achieving church-wide recognition for his
hundreds of meaningful lyrics. Until William Gaither arrived on the scene with
Gloria Sickal Gaither in the early sixties, Barney remained the church’s best-known
and most prolific composer-song writer. Accompanied by Joseph Fisher and D. S.
Warner, Warren, A. L. Byers, and C. W.
Naylor were among a select-few songbird-Saints. All together, they flooded the
church with harmonious sounds of praise and testimony, leaving a joyous legacy
of harmony that kept us singing. Their music offered no stopping places, and
refused to allow us to stop singing!
Such
music blessed the flourishing Movement immeasurably, long before we arrived in
Three Rivers. Our generation had already become part of that long-established
musical tradition of singing people. We sang out of a rich, full heritage of
personal experiences that proclaimed deeply meaningful and personal religious
encounters, that we expressed in wonderful three and four-part harmony.
“Stepping
in the Light” became one of our most-often sung hymns in Three Rivers. As a
congregational favorite, it became our theme song for our “Mile of Dimes”
campaign in the early eighties. Enjoying the rich, full four-part harmony of
that hymn helped us raise desperately needed dollars during our relocation
effort. It raised many spirits; it raised many much-needed dollars; and, it
added pleasure to our participation. Walking and working in that
“light,” we worshiped the God of all light. This heritage hymn
recalls vivid imagery of our Three Rivers journey, as well as of those earlier
saints and numerous others making the journey:
Trying to walk in the steps of the
Savior,
Trying
to follow our Savior and King;
Shaping
our lives by His blessed example,
Happy,
how happy, the songs that we bring.
How
beautiful to walk in the steps of the Savior,
Stepping
in the light, Stepping in the light;
How
beautiful to walk in the steps of the Savior,
Led
in paths of light.
(Worship the Lord/Warner
Press/1989/669)
By
the time for the church’s Centennial, we were too immersed in our “to do” list
to celebrate the previous century on a scale I thought befitting. We simply were
too absorbed trying to complete an unfinished facility; compiling, editing and
publishing a book proved more burdensome than blessing and before I knew it,
retirement was staring me full in the face.
Not
yet ready to retire, I pushed past that elusive sixty-five mile marker,
finished out my sixties, and found myself with an ever evasive dream, still smoldering
as a mere wisp of smoke. Safely stored in my file cabinets, it seemed safe
enough still lingering just beyond reach. The tantalizing dream of that
completed book remained unfulfilled.
When
I could no longer tolerate further procrastination, I began re-tracing my paper
trail of documents and notes of people, places, and memories. The journey
looked impossible, but I determined to follow it to the best of my
ability. After years of writing and
re-writing, complicated by more than a decade of work with Reformation Publishers,
I still wrestled with this promised project.
That
valley portrayed as the Biblical shadow of death, became an unavoidable camping
place in 2005. That year saw Tommie literally snatched from the jaws of death--several
times, after which she improved significantly. Those were, however, dark
days—pain-filled with angina and severe arthritis, CHF [congestive heart
failure], and Paget’s disease, during which I added “care-giver” to my writing
resume.
I
truly hope I have given more than idle glimpses into a rear-view mirror. May it
significantly stimulate history buffs. I am eternally grateful for our
opportunities to serve the church and I write out of deep love for the church.
Whatever it’s worth, I leave that “for the Glory of God” and for the values we absorbed
while we walked where some of God’s choice “Saints” once trod.
_______________
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