PART FOUR
“Wider Horizons”
The holiest moment of the church
service
is the moment when
God’s people
--strengthened by
preaching and sacrament--
go out the church door into the
world to be the Church.
We don’t go to
Church;
we are the Church.
Canon Earnest Southcott
0-0-0
It
may be little that I can do,
Nor
may I have much to say;
But
in the little I mean to be true,
And
do what I can today.
_____
From
the depths of my heart I will do my part
With
a ready and willing hand;
And I
will not shirk, I will faithfully work
In
the place that my Lord hath placed.
I Will Do My Part, verse 1, chorus
Charles W. Naylor/Andrew
L. Byers, 1918
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN - “But God. . .”
(A Growth
Strategy--1979-96)
“Success comes in
cans,” concluded Mary Crowley.
“If you believe you can do something, you can.”
Holly G. Miller,
Pathways
“Would you consider assisting a
small congregation to help them keep their doors open?”
That
is the question to which I have referred several times. It confronted me in an
unexpected phone call from B. Gale Hetrick. Executive Secretary of the Church
of God in Michigan, and a longtime friend, Gale knew of my desire to return to
pastoral service ASAP, after taking a “breather”.
We
had invested twenty-six years of fulltime ministry, primarily across the
Southeast and into the Southwestern United States. Circumstances being what
they were, we designed our lifestyle to conform to a system that frequently
failed to meet basic family needs. We served several churches—primarily
mission-type churches, new church plants, and churches otherwise unable to
adequately support themselves.
I
preferred not to serve bi-vocationally, but necessity required that we
supplement our income when necessary. To do this, we depended on Tommie’s
expertise in business and banking while I gave fulltime to the various
churches. Most churches of that era rather expected conformity, and we did our
best to conform, but often at personal cost. Most congregations, in fact,
demanded it; some even delivered their expectations forthrightly. Others were
more subtle--sometimes less than honest.
The
SOS from Three Rivers promised rapid entrée back into active ministry, but it
also called for more service than support. I saw it as a simple challenge from
a group of discouraged people that had already endured more than their share of
depression and discouragement, with too little outside support. While I was
anxious to return to active service, I neither wanted bi-vocational ministry,
nor felt equipped for it. Pastoral Ministry was my training and experience. I
viewed bi-vocational pastors as being among those most often finding themselves
seated among those less able, less successful, and generally viewed by the
church as such.
Then,
there was the matter of God … “But God …”!
I could
not blame God for every circumstance in my life; I understood that. Back in 1962,
however, I had read a small paperback devotional book by Wheaton College
Chancellor, Dr. V. Ray Edmond. That small volume of magnificent devotional
literature had impacted me greatly as Dr. Edmond shared mini-lessons from his
sojourn as a minister and as President of Wheaton College.
The
book combined the best of Edmon's scholarly bible studies with appropriately
illustrated poetic verse by Annie Johnson Flint. Between them, they inspired
strong devotion. Both were artists. One poetically embellished the greatness of
God; the other described how God guards our transitions from here to there. It
was a small book with a huge impact, titled “But God …” In spite of God, we all endure trauma.
Most often, it is God who transforms our impoverishment into extravaganzas
beyond our wildest dreams (cf. Eph. 3:20). That lesson became one I did not
soon forget, and in time, I more fully absorbed it into my personal experience.
The
telephone conversation with Dr. Hetrick led to my meeting with the handful of
members still congregating in Three Rivers--forty-three miles southwest of my
home. He made the necessary arrangements for the appointed day. I filled the
preaching assignment, while leaving my wife Tommie at home.
In
the near-eighteen years that followed, I drove that highway a minimum average
of three trips weekly, during which I achieved a curious bond of friendship
with that stretch of rural road. It was almost exactly forty-three miles from
our driveway to the chapel on Pearl street, and I knew nearly every crack in
that stretch of asphalt.
As
expected, I found a small handful of discouraged individuals. They met
faithfully in their small white frame structure paralleling the north-south
railroad tracks between Kalamazoo and Elkhart. The tracks angled across South
Main Street, from southeast to northwest, midway of the eleven-hundred block.
Going north from there, they sliced across Pearl Street, leaving a tiny
pie-shaped tangle of ill-kept weeds and litter that belonged to the Railroad
Company, which the community ignored.
I
took note of the negative self-image of a people that reminded me of ancient
Israel when looking over into Canaan at the giants. Their lack of self-esteem
appeared as inviting as a dark storm cloud. Industrial transition had robbed
them of their key wage earners and relocated them elsewhere. The once-thriving
congregation now existed of a handful of discouraged supporters. Socio-economic
problems jeopardized the survival of this ninety-one year-old congregation, one
of the oldest in the Movement, appearing to them as a giant mushroom cloud that
threatened their existence.
Their
modest facilities were primitive at best, far from what I was looking for. They
existed, land-locked, beside a railroad track, on 1.7 acres. They occupied
three small frame structures and a shed, plus a barn-like old parsonage with an
unattached single car garage. With the alley bordering their west side, and the
railroad track as their east border, they looked like a stuffed hotdog. They
were viewed daily by hundreds of motorists passing on South Main Street, piled
up in an unsightly heap.
The
site did enjoy access. At one time, it had been that area's major north-south
highway. It divided the city, west from east, and linked northbound Indiana traffic
to the primary cities of Southwest Michigan. The few supporters remaining could
no longer carry the financial burden. Nor, could they hope to afford the kind
of leadership they needed to attract new members; their congregational survival
was at stake.
Without
being disparaging, their situation appeared abysmally depressing. Even the most
stouthearted now felt the numbing of discouragement. The passage of the years
revealed the growing flaws in their well-intended planning. Guided by the best
resources available to them, they made well-intentioned decisions that somehow
buried them still deeper in the mud of restrictive circumstances.
Life
in the once vigorous congregation evaporated slowly-but-surely, seeping into
the air--a tire with a slow leak. Although imperceptibly slow, the few
remaining members would soon experience the immobility of driving on four flat
tires.
Various
pastors shuffled through their midst with the regularity of the hundreds of
cars passing daily in the expanding traffic. Constructive leader-ship and
long-range planning became nonexistent. Prospective leaders dis-appeared.
Discouraged members wandered away like sheep, nibbling their way to greener
pasture one nibble at a time.
The
congregation had nearly hemorrhaged to death. It is no exaggeration at this
point in time to say that no one any longer wanted them. Although I was
admittedly eager to return to active ministry, this appeared bleak. At best, it
would be a difficult challenge!
Success
would not come overnight. Nor, would Doc in the Box Band-Aids bring health. Dr.
Edmond’s challenge--“But God” best described what I thought I saw.
Others had tried and failed to turn the situation around! “What would God do in
such a void?” Could God turn around a failing situation that people had
created? Would God bless people who found themselves in a quandary because they
had sometimes refused to do what they needed to do? Could God take a mediocre
preacher like me--who sometimes preferred to research books and write ideas on
paper rather than talk to people? Would God use this weak vessel to breathe new
life into a seemingly terminal body of believers?
I
arrived for Sunday school and Worship on the appointed day. I fully expected to
find a few satisfied super-saints preferring to fight rather than switch. It
did not take my degree in Christian Education to diagnose a dysfunctional
Sunday school that promised little. That day, I administered a large dose of
audacious hope to them, straight from the bible. I injected it by showing them how
God had worked among some of the bible’s original saints.
In
doing this, I discovered a delightful “Baker’s Dozen” whose warmth and
responsiveness prompted me to agreeably return a second Sunday. The following
weekend, I took my wife. She and I had long believed our educational training
and pastoral experience had the most value when we found ways of serving and
resourcing others, rather than in being served.
We
saw an obvious call to serve – an SOS
distress call. Without doubt, it came out of very real need. Further
conversation led to extended discussions with the congregation. If they could
convince us that we could help them, we would willingly give whatever help we
could. We had already invested a quarter of a century in small congregations in
pioneer areas of the Church of God and we readily agreed that a very large
percentage of them were small--unnecessarily.
Eventually,
I gathered statistical evidence that helped me better understand the small
churches that constitute a large majority of most major denominations. This
local church was little different from hundreds of other small churches across
the nation. I devoured five or six dozen Church Growth books, among other resources.
Armed with this wealth of information, and with the support of state and
national resources, I came to a more adequate understanding of the challenge we
faced.
A
few congregations serve in limited-growth communities. Yet, most small
churches remain small simply because they have not yet reached their growth
potential--whatever that means (emphasis added). Looking back across
more than two decades, I could see no lessening in the sacrificial ministry
that lay ahead, although I had served fulltime--freely and vigilantly. As I
became more deeply involved in moving the church forward, I consulted with the
National Board of Church Extension and others I felt more knowledgeable.
Joe
Crane--a dear friend and brother--offered me this simple assessment of small
church ministry via personal correspondence:
That is our calling to preach,
pray, pastor, guide, encourage and lead it,
(the small church)
to desire to be faithful in mission, ministry and outreach
so that it can
become more effective.
Realizing
that most congregations are small at some time or other, and that a large
majority of American congregations of all denominations are small churches, I
realized we were not sub-average. This added a new awareness—mew
appreciation--of the worth of small churches. The challenges unique to the
small church further reinforced my newly found appreciation of their
importance. It gave me a renewed sense of mission, as well as new respect for
those who lead small churches (something I needed).
The Three Rivers challenge came from
a congregation having more than ninety years of tradition and history. I knew
our national church was experiencing a resurgence of church planting and that
some of my peers were out planting new churches--even mega-churches! Yet, here
was one of the state’s oldest, longest established congregations struggling for
survival.
I
could do something about this! “I” could” make a difference. That
meant something to “me”! As I studied my priorities, I viewed leadership
as the most immediate need. Leadership cried for help, at its most elementary
level!
We
were invited to commute from Battle Creek twice weekly--eighty-six miles round
trip. Once we negotiated the terms of agreement, we mutually committed
ourselves to a relationship that designated me as their Supply Pastor.
We
continued providing our primary support through gainful employment. For the
first time in my life, I accepted the designation of being officially “a
bi-vocational pastor.” Seven months later, although I had never before negotiated
with a church in this manner, I re-negotiated our agreement as Supply Pastors.
Instead
of continuing as the Supply Preacher on Sundays and Thursday evenings, and
driving into town twice a week, I agreed to become part-time pastor--call
as needed. Although I never escaped the part-time salary cap, I did
eventually become the full-time pastor. However, I renegotiated the
relationship with each change we made.
Location seemed the
second most-obvious priority. I spent many hours poring over old records.
Research revealed a cyclical pattern. The congregation filled its small
facility to capacity and overflowing several times across the years. Yet, each
time they failed to plan for further growth, either through expanding their
facilities or by relocating. Each time, they experienced a corresponding
downturn in the attendance patterns and support--for whatever reason.
The
ebb and flow of the years revealed some peak experiences, which they found
satisfying. Yet, each transition and downsize left a small core of what Lyle
Schaller called a congregation of “survivors.” I looked at these Three Rivers
Saints and saw Schaller’s proverbial cat, a core group of survivors, surrounded
by a transient circle of occasional participants that came and went for whatever
reason.
With
each dip of the roller coaster, which brought another low attendance period, an
upward ascent usually climbed back up to where they first started. In examining
this pattern, I found that an established “core” remained consistent; they maintained
the same numerical levels of attendance and financial support, regardless of
how high they peaked or how low they dipped.
The
decade of the eighties had added a new element and this compounded both their
planning and the tranquility of their worship experience--industrial
development. A new General Motors facility reactivated the rail-spur that sat
silent beside their fifty-year-old facility for so long. This economic blessing
added the straw that broke the camel’s back and the saints' resistance to
moving. The inconvenience accompanying the blessing convinced the
congregation’s most resistant of an increasingly undeniable need to relocate.
Meantime,
“transfer growth” began to transform the face of the congregation. New members
fueled the fires of change, adding impetus to the congregation’s acts of faith.
The faithful again renewed their determination to search for another site, in
spite of numerous failures to find consensus on any of several sites previously
investigated.
Tommie
and I could resolve the leadership problem, but location remained an especially
obstinate challenge. A full year after our arrival, a new site suddenly became
available. It almost fell into our laps; yet, at this stage of the action, I
was not overly excited about heading a relocation project. I knew too many
building programs that presented challenges sufficiently difficult that they
sometimes resulted in pastoral changes. Not only did I feel somewhat inadequate
myself, but I also felt that we had already paid off more than our share of
someone else‘s mortgages.
This
latest opportunity came through the members themselves. That in itself stirred
the pot of excitement and it soon became quite obvious they wanted it in spite
of previous failures at consensus. So when the opportunity presented itself, we
negotiated for five acres of land. This guaranteed us three hundred ten feet of
highway frontage. It offered a full street-width clearance on the east property
line, and it allowed access to the property behind us. It also left us the
option of buying additional acreage to the rear.
Finally,
we were realizing some progress! In addition, we were seeing numerical growth.
In searching for the best ways to achieve our potential growth, we agreed the
best way to achieve our common objectives would be in renegotiating our
pastoral relationship and asking for additional pastoral commitment from us.
The
most viable option seemed for Tommie to continue her Battle Creek employment
and occupy the home we owned there. That suggested I begin a dual residency and
serve as pastor (fulltime on a half-time salary), and live with one foot in
Battle Creek and one foot in Three Rivers.
We
decided to give this a try. We would convert our rambling old parsonage into
multi-purpose space with classrooms and office, with bachelor quarters. This
arrangement would not be easy to achieve or maintain, we both knew. Nor would
we necessarily recommend it as the most viable solution for all such
circumstances, or for many couples. It was, in fact, a plan one successful
bi-vocational pastor-friend predicted would not work “under any circumstance.”
I
cannot say we met all of our goals. I can report that seven ladies, two men,
and a few children eventually multiplied into a vibrant and growing church
family of all ages. Two Sunday school classes increased four-fold. Church
attendance tripled. Church income increased 300% over the four prior years.
We
planned goals to achieve, and we spent thousands of additional dollars we could
have deposited into our building fund. However, we achieved a major
accomplishment: we improved our facilities, and we made re-sale a
possibility at a critical time. Philosophically, we determined to become
givers rather than takers--by choice, and establish an intentional lifestyle of
“giving rather than receiving.”
Wisely
or unwisely, we ultimately refused to accept the financial support of the
Michigan Church Extension Division. Local leadership preferred that we proceed
“on our own.” Since I leaned somewhat in
that direction, we mutually agreed and pushed forward. Having that mindset, we
achieved an all-time high in congregational Missions giving. Morale surged. The
members reflected the joy that comes in achieving what one can conceive.
We
still needed to strengthen lay leadership, increase new member
enlistment, and improve pastoral support. Nonetheless, we finalized
our building funds and pushed forward with plans for a new multi-purpose
facility before our fifth anniversary.
In reevaluating this process during our sixteenth year, I noted that “we
have outlasted the devastating losses resulting from loss of our community’s
largest employer.” At that time, I recognized that we had failed to achieve
several of “my” major objectives and this caused me to question the success of
my leadership. We were, nonetheless,
still in a strong growth mode.
Time
has a way of making obvious the flaws in the fabric and I continued to see
flaws not so obvious at the earlier writing. As I look back, I understand
better the circumstances relating to the personal strengths and weaknesses of
the individual members, and their willingness and ability to interrelate.
No
congregation can continue growing when the church constituency has personality
flaws that sour the relational juices that create the congregation’s concentric
circles of friendships. The simple fact is no congregation can or will
expand beyond its own capacity for growth (Italicized for emphasis and
applies to congregation as well as pastoral leadership). Congregations expand
by building community through interpersonal relationships; i.e., they grow as
the members themselves grow, and build, and maintain, good social
relationships--irrespective of pastoral leadership.
I
am grateful to God, and to all concerned, for the achievements we accomplished
together. I am deeply gratified that we achieved as much as we did in our years
together. With that said, we will finish this chapter by noting several
principles that strongly shaped my thinking and formed the contour that enabled
us to achieve the goals we reached.
These
are more than mere observations; they provide time-tested, biblically based,
growth principles that have guided many others, and are not original with me.
These guidelines will expand any congregation willing to utilize them
seriously (emphasis added).
MISSION
MEANS
FIRST THINGS FIRST
The
most serious question for the church to address has to be “What does God want?”
Does God want growth? One cannot read the gospels and conclude that God does
not favor growth! Reciting John 3:16 affirms the heart full of love that God
holds for a world meandering in a wilderness of “woulds and wounds” of
self-preservation, fear, distress, hurts and worries.
God
works with the patience of a research scientist, in what some call a Divine
conspiracy. He works continually at transforming the evils of our world through
the healing medicines of faith, hope, and charity. If God wants growth, which I
believe he does, it no longer remains an issue of how much or how little the church
can afford. The issue before the church is “how can we achieve what God has
called for, and what He continually works toward?” The issue is the love of God and our
obedience to divine love. God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten
son--John 3:16.
God
has but a single purpose, which is to unify and reconcile lost humanity to
himself through the cross. Through our study, worship, and service, we
experience new awareness of God that creates renewed realization of His worth
and of our need for “growing” His church.
As
part of the Family of God, we acknowledged the necessity of our maintenance
ministries as being essential. We also realized God both wills-and-gives
growth, meaning that we needed to re-think what we were doing. Obviously, we
needed to plan--prepare ourselves--for the growth God desired to give us. To
fail to plan for that growth could mean only that we planned not to grow--by
default!
MINISTRY
CENTERS IN PEOPLE
Anyway, you approach this subject added growth creates
more people, but sometimes also adds logistical problems. The ultimate
product of any and every congregational effort should be people. In our
worship, study, and service, we continually revisited the need of viewing
people through God’s eyes.
We
looked at the importance of loving people wherever we could find them--hurting,
sinning, self-indulging, and striking out, whatever and wherever. As people
crossed our paths individually and congregationally, we determined to view them
as God-given opportunities. Each person crossing our path represented a new
opportunity.
The
measure of our success would not be the goals we established, or the numbers
for which we worked. It would not be the facilities we hoped to build, or the
budgets we needed to achieve our goals. Rather, the ultimate measure of our
success would be the people we become as we reach-out and improve the lives of
others. This humbling realization called us to establish new and better
standards for measuring our success.
We
needed objectives by which to measure ourselves, motivate climbing out of our
rut and moving beyond the status quo. We needed to become givers--gifted by
God, and led by God. We needed to allow God to direct our pathways, so that we
could lead others into a transforming personal conversion that would produce
lifestyle changes and enable them to live as givers gifted by God.
FAITH
THINKS
ENTHUSIASTICALLY
As
we learned to cope with our problems, we began viewing them as steppingstones
to maturity and growth. I felt justifiably rewarded as the pastor when members
began, both individually and as the church, to see new options.
Enthusiasm
derives from en (in) Theos (God). It means living in God.
Enthusiasm offers a lifestyle of sharing the loving presence of God. Positive
enthusiasm never fails to uplift people, especially when it offers a
constructive word of hope from God. A word from God, and the Bible as God’s
Word, never fails to offer strength for today and hope for tomorrow.
Enthusiastic faith enables people to build constructive alternatives after
earlier failures and frustrations. Enthusiasm never experiences defeat!
PLANNING
REQUIRES FLEXIBILITY
When
traditional programs, methods, and schedules conflicted with our growth, I
pressed for flexibility. Allow options for growth. Growth requires diagnostic
objectivity and constant evaluation. It calls for a willingness to try various
methods, without locking into nonproductive methods. That occasionally means
discarding favorite programs; it also minimizes business as usual. I believe
God will bless flexible and enthusiastic planning.
When
we relocated from South Main to M-86, we opted for a multi-purpose unit, rather
than the traditional structure with “feel good” sanctuary. We had a firm conviction that flexibility
offered more options for growth and that it did not lock us into a single
mindset, or into failure.
The
kind of flexibility offered by the multi-purpose unit promised potential space
to grow. It allowed a degree of flexibility in terms of facility usage and
allowed for expansion as funding became available. We planned to continue
broadening our base (improving our maintenance ministries), while continuing to
“grow” our congregation to the next level).
We
believed flexible planning offered us the most economical route; it returned
the most for the least, in keeping with our primary mission. Maintaining focus
on that mission is not always the cheapest way to go, but it promised the most
direct route to success, whatever ministry continued growth might require.
LEADERS
ARE ACCOUNTABLE
As
a young pastor, I found it difficult, even embarrassing, to alert the church to
my personal needs. As a result, I subjected my family to the unnecessary whims
of church leaders demanding service without pledging accountability. I found
congregations wanting full-time-or-nothing from pastoral candidates, when they
only paid part-time salaries.
Many
congregations have lived long by this double standard, although the New
Testament elevates the pastor-teacher as a spiritual gifting from God--a
“charisma” (gift) worthy of hire (emphasis added). Being well acquainted
with this double standard, I came to believe that the church that cannot offer
its pastor a “realistic remuneration” has but one option.
That congregation must
allow the pastor to use part of his/her “full-time” to supplement that income
and count that time as service to the church, rather than expect the spouse
to carry the congregation.
The
congregation that expects the pastor’s spouse to supplement the pastor’s salary
is demanding two employees for the price of one. The only time the spouse
becomes a viable church employee is when the church “hires” that
spouse.
When
the church itself remains unable or unwilling to provide for the economic needs
of the pastoral family, the Church Board should count those hours spent “on
that secular payroll” as time spent working FOR the church. That
congregation has no right to count that “working time” as a “non-church” or
(personal) investment. Meanwhile, that pastor need not feel denigrated
as “part-time”. Nor, should anyone call that pastor “part time.”
Most pastors, regardless of status, are most often on call 24-7.
If
a congregation pays the pastor adequately--at least commensurate with the upper
ten percent of the congregation--that becomes a different situation. Although
churches generally are more considerate today, sixty years in ministry leaves
me keenly aware of how congregations vary dramatically in their beliefs and
practices.
Some
of what I have written here, I have never seen in print in church literature.
Without being intentionally judgmental, I remain uncertain as to what God may
say to some congregations when they stand before him for their final
accounting.
PURPOSE
PROMISES PERSUASION
If,
or when, we reach the world’s un-churched masses, it will result primarily from
planting new churches, and most of those will begin as small(er) congregations.
When truly persuaded of God’s purposes, we will plant new churches! This
will require a new acceptance of, and greater appreciation for, the
bi-vocational pastor and the missional church. Purposed persuasion will produce
greater flexibility, with less tolerance for mediocrity and mere maintenance
I
prepared myself for fulltime ministry. As a one-vocation pastor, I could not
have written this vignette prior to moving to Three Rivers. When I accepted
that call, I found myself maintaining law and order in a busy twenty-two story
Bank tower in the central downtown. This temporary respite from active pastoral
duty meant facing a tightening economy and a limited job market. After
repeatedly hearing “over-qualified” for the jobs that were available, I took
what I could find, regardless of how felt about it at the time. It also offered
teaching moments that revealed much, helping me understand that I was, in fact,
discovering new friends from a cross-section of society that I seldom touched
as a church professional.
My
wife had similar experiences, multiplied many times over by her naturally
gregarious personality. Although qualified in business and banking, she faced a
lower-paying job market in food service. In accepting what circumstances handed
her way, she prospered in God’s sight. She quickly rose to the role of District
Manager for a family-owned fast-food company, and soon found herself managing a
business, doing regional training, and transforming people's lives through
meaningful business relationships.
There,
she ministered to people of all persuasions: pimps, prostitutes, and
professionals—at all levels. People must eat! Many of these individuals felt no
touch of God on their lives. She did not seek them out; they came out of the
woodwork and found her. As a result, she experienced an effective ministry,
most of which did little to expand our local church ministry.
Balancing
our schedules required purposeful planning between work and church, complicated
by commuting and being apart days at a time. To keep family relationships happy
and healthy, I did something I had never done; I scheduled days off. I did not
always succeed, but I discovered a new level of intentionality never before
experienced, and a new degree of satisfaction.
Admittedly,
there were times when I asked, “Why God, did you not lead me to a larger
church, with the programming and opportunities for which I was better trained,
and would have obviously enjoyed?” I did not always find the answers I needed.
Soul searching led me full circle, suggesting that Dr. Edmon’s conclusion
offered a real answer ... “But God!”
Looking
back across more than a decade of retirement--years of active engagement with
Reformation Publishers, and seeing what I wrote and re-wrote, convinces me more
than ever that God was [is] actively engaged in our lives. He was there in
times when I did not recognize His closeness; He was there when I did not feel
the security and anointing that I craved. Yet, He was there … conspiring … directing
... sometimes sweeping up the
pieces ... and now sixteen more years
have elapsed.
It
was a long drive through Three Rivers [June 1979—September 1996], but that
concluded the longer journey we had begun that weekend of June 3, 1951. That
experience found us leaping off the high diving board and dog-paddling around
in the deep end of the swimming pool, as we learned how to stay afloat in
pastoral ministry and how to swim. I cannot say I am completely satisfied with
who I have been at all times, or with what we, between us, achieved.
I
do feel amply rewarded, knowing that we invested our final working years in a
congregation that now owns an active future it did not foresee when we arrived.
When faced with closing the church doors, we held them open--by God’s grace. By
the grace of God; we relocated, when others had tried and failed. In spite of
some nay-sayers, we relocated and built new; we left our imperfect achievements
behind us and launched into a new area of ministry as “active” retirees.
The
former congregation has yet to achieve the five hundred participants I
envisioned, but they continue their ministry of transformation and healing,
while attempting to forge ahead. And, God is not finished with them yet. As
they write the second century of “Where the Saints Have Trod”, I pray their
vision may enlarge to where they catch a better glimpse of what it is God is
calling them to do!
Their
opportunity is huge, dangerous, and increasingly difficult, made so by the
resurgence of false religions and the passiveness of our once Judaic-Christian
culture! They need a new concept of “ER” outreach—become a spiritual Emergency
Room, serving the community outside the borders of their under-developed
property. May they one day “envision” and “plan” meaningful usage of their
undeveloped sixty-six acres. When still with them, we walked as the
militant spirit of the hymn that speaks of “where the saints have trod.” I now
walk as an old man, but I remain ever hopeful of walking like the old prophet that
still dreamed dreams and saw visions, while continuing to write and pray for
renewed vision.
One
day a reporter challenged Mary Crowley, the founder of Mary Kay Cosmetics. She
responded with this challenge: “If you believe you can do something, you can”
(emphasis added). Through the years, I found more success comes in
“cans”--doing what one “can” than in what one “cannot” do.
May
the “TR Church Family” experience the fullness of God’s grace and peace; may this
second century bring a gracious, enthusiastic, and full outpouring of en Theos –
God’s grace and peace. May the satisfaction of achieving your “cans” fill your
visions and exceed your abilities. May your achievements expand your plans; and
should you ever be tempted to throw up your hands and say, “we can’t afford
that,” I agree … you can't … but God can!
Wayne and Tommie Warner,
Co-pastors, 1979-1996
_____
* This material originated with the 1985
Michiana Small-Church Growth Conference I planned and hosted in Three Rivers.
That sparked an invitation to lead a Small-Church Conference for the Church of
God in Springfield, Illinois in 1986, for which I drew from this material. More
recently, portions of it appeared in edited form in Enrichment, a
magazine for ministers, edited by Rick Knoth of Springfield, MO.
“Canned” programs do not preserve well in a
pastor’s briefcase, going church to church, but this chapter distils an
excellent portion of my church growth development in “TR”.
_______________
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - “Open Doors”
One of the greatest
mistakes of my early ministry
was to open up new
fields of work
and then rush off and leave them …
I felt it my duty to
h
urry off to other new
fields.
H. M. Riggle,
Pioneer Evangelism, p. 86
-1979-
My
introduction to the congregation in Three Rivers, Michigan came when I joined eighteen
people attending Sunday school the morning of May 20, 1979. That same eighteen people
stayed for worship. I called my sermon, “Hidden Candles and Empty Salt-shakers”
(Matthew 5:16) and hoped I could inspire this remnant to become more than
burned-out candles and empty saltshakers.
The
following Sunday, I returned with Tommie in tow. Fourteen attended Sunday
school; eighteen again attended worship. This day, I chose Caleb, an Old
Testament hero that spent his early adult years helping fellow tribesmen
conquer their assigned territories. Finally, Caleb demanded Joshua’s per-mission
to conquer his own assigned portion and homestead; thus his request, “Give me
the Hill Country” (Joshua 14:6-15).
That
week, Gale Hetrick wrote the congregation announcing my willingness to serve on
“a limited basis for up to six months.” At year’s end, we would review our
relationship and discuss the advisability of continuing, or discontinuing, our
relationship.
Dr.
Hetrick’s letter recommended two services: Sunday morning and Thursday evening,
suggesting seventy-five dollars remuneration weekly for pastoral services, plus
fifteen cents a mile for actual miles driven. The elected committee met May 31
in a Friday night planning session.
Marge Ream, Church Secretary, responded in a June 4, 1979 correspondence,
“We called a special business meeting June 3, 1979 with seventeen voting
members present.”
The
Board of Trustees and the members present at that meeting, recommended
acceptance of the terms in Hetrick’s letter of May 25, 1979. The church agreed to pay the seventy-five-dollar
weekly stipend, and the fifteen cents actual miles driven for church purposes--through
December 31, 1979. Services would include Sunday morning Sunday school, and
Worship; Thursday Bible Study, and special services--weddings, funerals, and
other such occasions. The written ballot received unanimous approval.
Earlier,
on March 28, the Service Center Office had sent their “Watchcare Proposal”
outlining a contractual agreement between the Church of God in Michigan and the
Three Rivers congregation. This agreement proposed to search for, and secure, a
fulltime pastor that the Michigan Division of Church Extension would subsidize
and administer (emphasis added).
The
proposal listed six areas for consideration: people, leadership, purpose,
finances, facilities, and community. Proposed to operate for five years, inventory
resources, evaluate property, prepare for and select pastoral leadership, and
receive progress evaluation reports (emphasis added).
The
goal was “to provide support for the emergence of a fulltime functioning
church.” At its core, it offered a constructive program that would have proven
productive had it been followed, as it had in other Michigan communities.
Whether or not it would have proven more productive than what actually happened
remains speculative at best. Our efforts cost the State far less money, but
when I look back, we may have also produced less. Who is to say?
Typical
of the Church of God, local leadership preferred not to apply for the State
subsidy, once they had resident leadership and saw progress. Consequently, we
mutually agreed to avoid outside entanglement, although I maintained a close congregational
accountability by intention.
Personally,
it meant Tommie would continue her employment as a local Food Service District
Manager-Operator. Book-keeping and regional employee training added to her
workload and occupied her from 65-80 hours weekly. The church only compounded
that.
I
held secular employment as well, since we needed a quick fix. Industrial Security
Service offered the only employment readily available. The income remained
minimal but provided flexibility. It allowed me to schedule around the work of
the church and incorporate Anderson Camp Meeting back into our June schedule.
August added two weddings, a Kalamazoo graveside service for Burt Slingerland
(Ted and Bertha Reed‘s friend), and a Sunday school picnic at Sand Lake.
June’s
Church income for 1979 totaled a mere $538.20, with expenses of $399.09. Their
small carefully-managed Building Fund stood just above $10,000, under the
protective custody of Treasurer, Mary Molnar. A very inauspicious beginning,
you say; “yes, but it promised hope of better days.” I give much credit to
Pastor Fred James for his foundational work, and for keeping in touch, right up
to Wanda’s more-recent death.
We
met regularly. We worshipped meaningfully. We worked joyfully. We gave
substantially to Church of God World Service, the Church of God in Michigan,
Warner Memorial Camp, and the Gideon Bible Society. We contributed a Fall
Harvest Offering to State Ministries and at Christmas, we invested in Christ’s
Birthday for global missions and further participated by sending four women to
Michigan’s annual WCG Convention in Flint.
These
were not selfish folk. They did not view life with the myopic vision of
self-centered consumers focused only on themselves. These ladies immersed
themselves in the city’s June Water Carnival. The local newspaper
carried a picture of (then) teenaged Darren Cole helping Elsie Hackler and
Marge Ream sell lemonade while other women displayed quilts and edible goods.
They raised $348.17 and contributed generously to the success of this community
event.
Following
our annual pilgrimage to Anderson, Indiana--an annual event since 1952--we
experienced a highly positive response to Dr. Hetrick’s July 8 appearance as
Guest Preacher. He expressed great appreciation for what he found.
We
dismissed services for the final two weekends of July in order to support the district
camp meeting at Grand Junction that I attended as a boy. We involved twenty-one
participants in that 1979 encampment. It proved significant and added a
climactic pleasure, quite unexpected.
Walking
across the grounds, I recognized a man from out of my past. Dan Turnbow and I
first met in 1948 when we were students at Pacific Bible College. Following a
1951 guest preaching even in Concord, N. C., I had driven my family west,
planning to spend Christmas in Oklahoma. En route, we stopped at Bastrop, LA,
at the Cherry Ridge parsonage, home of Pastor Dan and Thelma Turnbow. We
traveled with a ten-month-old infant; that pre-Christmas journey took our baby
into twenty-seven states and old Mexico.
By
1979, Dan and I had not seen each other in thirty years. At Grand Junction, he
introduced Allison, his wife--new to us. We learned they managed an apartment
complex in Paw Paw, MI., just over in the next county west of Three Rivers. They
were elated on learning we were new pastors at Three Rivers, and close enough
for them to visit.
Renewing
friendship with Dan proved significant. I valued his friendship--always had.
Moreover, it could rally further support to our new cause, and that proved
highly beneficial to us, and to me personally. It also resulted in a
significant personal restoration to ministry for Dan.
In
August, I mailed out my first newsletters--Pastor to People Hotline. Maintaining
connections held a significant priority for me. I officiated my first wedding
in the Pearl Street Chapel--Mark Ames and Helen Kimble. Later that same month, I conducted the
wedding service for our son, Scott, at Alexandria, IN Church of God--long
served by Dwight and Bernice McCurdy (formerly of Wheeling, WVA). We had pastored the Senior McCurdy’s in Wheeling,
West VA., as well as Dwight’s brother Bill and family. Dwight had visited our
services occasionally, coming from Alexandria. Our son was then working at
Gaither Studios in “Alec”, where he spent fourteen years becoming a top-notch
salesman.
In
September, the Turnbow’s accepted our invitation to come and work with us. A
second mailing of Pastor to People Hotline announced Brother Dan‘s
pending January revival. Dan proved an inspirational pulpiteer. He and Allison
served ably and “Brother Dan” quickly assumed an expansive leadership role.
Everyone loved them.
We
invited Bob (Train Whistle) and Betty Johnson from Battle Creek’s Capital
Avenue Church (Michigan’s oldest congregation, now closed). Bob and Betty came
from Tennessee, where Betty was a cousin to the well-known Glen Allred of the
Florida Boys southern gospel quartet. Bob described his origins as “so far back
up in the hollow they had to pipe in the sunshine.” They brought great gospel
music with their special Bluegrass flavor.
Pastor-friend
Phil Palmer, an experienced bi-vocational pastor, came and spoke. He challenged
us to the realities of rebuilding a floundering congregation. He said we could
not do it under the circumstances we were attempting, although we were
determined to make it work. Worship attendance edged upward, into the
forty-to--sixty range.
Myrtle
Bishop, Mary Molnar, and Marge Ream served as our first Nominating Committee
for our first annual September business meeting together. I led the
session--required by local bi-laws. With no previous precedent, I initiated the
first of seventeen Annual Reports to the church, having concluded that it was
vitally essential that I give the church a full statistical accounting of my
activities, goals, objectives, and conclusions about our progress.
My
“State of the Church” message of September 6, 1979 signaled a new direction. We
were struggling, but we were rounding a corner:
We spent two Sundays with you at
the invitation of Dr. Gale Hetrick and you.
You then voted for
us to come and we accepted until the end of the year, at
which time we could each reconsider and see
if we wanted to continue our
relationship.
We have found the
relationship warm, loving, meaningful, and person-
ally satisfying. We
have now been with you an additional twelve weeks.
Summer is ended and it is time to embark into
a new year. During the
past three months, this is how I spent my
time with you while concen-
trating primarily
upon preaching and visiting.
Services
conducted-------24
Sermons
preached---------9
Guest
speakers------------- 2
B.
Gale Hetrick,
S. D. Turnbow
Visitation------------------100
calls
Mileage-----------------2,592
miles
Attendance
Averages:----18 - Sunday School
30 - Worship
Other
Pastoral Functions::
Funerals 1
Weddings 2 (with pre-wedding sessions)
Mailings 2 (one postcard mail-out
and one news-
letter—personally funded)
Camp
Meetings 2
Met
with Nominating Committee
Looked
at land with the Realtor
I worked at Sanford
Security Service a minimum of thirty-five
hours per week and
tried to average between 20-30 hours for
the church on a
regular schedule. After this we spent parts of
three days over
Labor Day relaxing.
If you are ready, I
am ready to plan to spend the next year
with you. I want us to talk about
that year and formulate
some planned strategies. I come to
you to re-establish the
church. My objective is to lead
you in making all persons
(in our field of Three Rivers) aware
of God--especially
through his redeeming love as
revealed in Christ Jesus,
and giving them opportunity to
respond to him in faith and
love. For this we need:
1.
Loyal and enthusiastic members to be available.
2.
Strong emphasis upon the Sunday school. We can build
our church as large as we want, class by class and group by group.
3. Serious attention given to relocating.
4. Constructive leadership planning.
5. God is more
willing to bless than we are to ask!
We
Love You,
s/Pastor
Wayne and Tommie
That
meeting produced a minimal staff of Sunday school teachers plus a Steering
Committee (after we set aside the Bi-laws as a temporary expedient). Teaching
staff included Ruth Altimus, Donna Henline, Mary Molnar, Tommie Warner,
Lillian Myer, and Barbara Oberlander. We asked the Steering
Committee to function in place of the several committees outlined in the
Bi-laws. That included Rod Barnhart, Marge Ream, Mary Molnar, John Bishop,
and Barbara Oberlander--a good representation of the available people.
Before
leaving that 1979 Business Meeting, we noted that their Envelope giving for
1978-79 totaled only $5,692.30 (total church income $10,497.31). They spent
$6,616.56 as judiciously as possible and gained $3,880.75--used discreetly.
Church Treasurer, Mary Molnar, reported $10,608.31 zealously guarded--to build
reserves for future use.
Filled
with hope, we plunged forward! On December 30, the congregation voted 18-1 to
retain us as pastoral leaders. Lillian Myers the one negative vote did not
oppose us; it challenged her as to whether or not they could maintain us. That
vote resolved my number one goal for 1979--mature leadership; I believed we
could provide that.
That
launched us into 1980 with what I projected as a five-pointed Star of Hope:
1. To be a functioning church,
2. To secure
property,
3. To enlist / train
leadership,
4. To upgrade the
facilities,
5. To develop a
communication and information line.
I
began keeping the most detailed records of personal activities I had ever kept.
Looking now in my rear view mirror, I must candidly admit I sometimes worked
harder at detailing plans than in carrying them out; yet, planning takes time.
I also became intensely interested in the new Church Growth Movement,
especially as it related to the small church.
I
launched an extensive reading campaign in church growth. I charted statistical
growth, actual and projected, keeping statistics on attendance, conversions,
membership, et al. I recorded the number of people moving in and out, evaluated
the number of Sunday school classes, teachers and helpers, the number of empty
classrooms, face-to-face groups, new face-to-face groups, and anything
involving people. I tracked our regular and special church-giving records:
building fund, faith promise, missions, new programs added, building
adjustments, staff changes, special projects.
I
charted the congregation’s financial response beginning in 1975 with Fred
James. The church reached $14,000 under Fred, and then dropped to near $10,000
during the interim slump. Our arrival brought a sharp increase that reached
$31,500 during 1983-84. I so wanted the people to become an active, dynamic,
witnessing congregation, rather than someone else‘s mission field.
Continuing
to dream, I envisioned turning a corner at the end of the millennium and
beginning a new era--a new future. My health was good; I could possibly serve
twenty-years, by working until 1999. On the other hand, I could retire at
seventy-two and welcome the turn of the century while still employed. That
seemed reasonable and I envisioned a future day when I would leave a thriving congregation
of 500 constituents serving the growing community from a new facility--well
located--cared for by a skilled young pastor with a long future.
-1980-
Beginning in 1980, we launched in
earnest. “Brother Dan” preached his heart out in a four-day “January Revival.”
His return to more active ministry transformed him and brought personal renewal
to him. He experienced a refreshing, transforming spiritual renewing after
riding an emotional roller coaster for several years.
Early
in January, the Steering Committee met with Dana Hartung, a local independent
bi-vocational pastor-builder well known in the County. We surveyed several
pole-barn constructions in the Sturgis-Centreville area and discovered a mutual
consensus to build. We outlined priorities for building--listed elsewhere.
Springtime
saw our ladies' group win a second place ribbon for their WCG History Book
at the St. Joseph State Women’s Convention. The Witness Team from Anderson
University encouraged us greatly, followed by the “Glory Aires,” ladies trio
from the South Bend, IN. Missionary Church.
Later
that year, we hosted a congregational rally in combination with Stone Lake
Church of Middlebury, IN. My journal at that time indicated they came “44
strong, but a poor show [for us]. Good service, lots of music. Fair response to
dinner.” Hindsight says we fed a rather full program to an obviously small core
of people.
Among
our guest preachers, we found George Blackwell especially inspiring. George was
a friend from earlier days in Mississippi--George Blackwell, now a consultant
for the National Board of Church Extension and Home Missions (later Church Builders
Plus). His visit proved timely and launched us into a productive journey with
our “Church Development Study.”
That
study fueled our inspiration for eventually hosting a regional “Small-church
Growth Conference.” It also paved the way for the relocation that led us to
build our new facility. Brother Dan shared preaching duties, did considerable
home visitation, lots of community work, and joyfully assisted wherever needed.
Quickly
assuming the mantra of “Brother Dan,” he began printing a weekly Worship Guide,
assisted by Debbie Meringa. In his renewed role, he opened a key shop at the
downtown intersection of Michigan Avenue and Main Street. “Dan the
Locksmith” enjoyed being the only locksmith in town and he soon launched a
column in the local newspaper. Local citizens read his keynote article that
asked the question, “What is a locksmith?” which first appeared 18 September
1980.
Meanwhile,
Allison provided her own brand of gracious and efficient service as our new
self-appointed Church Hostess. Dan did an appreciable amount of public
relations, becoming our unofficial community goodwill Ambassador. He further
served as Maintenance Engineer: painting and cleaning around the buildings and
property, especially after he and Allison occupied the South Main Street
parsonage.
The
ladies WCG representatives rallied in Lansing with their History Book and
returned home with a second place ribbon, assisted by Myrtle Bishop.
My
second annual report of September 8, 1980 summarized our first year as a year
of progress. I preached forty times locally; spoke at Centre Avenue Church of
God, Portage and the Battle Creek Christian Methodist Episcopal Church (black).
Supported by Brother Dan, I conducted most of the Thursday night services.
I
drove 11,40l miles that year, averaging 950 miles monthly, 21.5 visits per
month, plus writing letters and making phone calls. I initiated several church
mailings for August-1979, and January, May, July, and August-1980. I purchased
and paid for these over and above our tithes and offerings.
Sunday
school sessions totaled 1339 people over a fifty-week period--26.8 per Sunday.
We began the year averaging 20 and ended the year in August averaging 32.
Worship attendance over forty-nine weeks totaled 1870 people--38.2 per Sunday.
Numerous individuals recorded important spiritual decisions during that year,
as people reaffirmed earlier commitments.
Pulpit
guests throughout the year included Phil Palmer, Charlotte, MI Pastor; La Verne
(Hap) Hazard, Cassopolis, MI. Layman and Gideon; and Roland Gani, Portage, MI.
Pastor. Seventy-five people eagerly listened to Gani, an Egyptian, as he
expanded our insight regarding the oppressed Palestinian people--a minority
view, politically. The Alexander Family Singers greatly inspired us. Carroll Hendrix,
had followed us from California to Battle Creek, and came to sing and preach.
Brother Dan read the vows for Jim and Jill Poulson. Jill was a daughter of Ruth
Altimus) Poulson, and they rented the small house between the Annex and the
parsonage.
Of
Michigan's 125 congregations that year (now 99), only 22 gave more per capita
to State cooperative giving than Three Rivers, as we boosted our congregational
giving to $45.12 per capita for World Service (1979-80 year). We participated
in the Kalamazoo area Unity Services, attended the Michiana Radio Rally in
Sturgis for Christian Brotherhood Hour, with speaker James Earl Massey, after
adding our support to that program a year earlier.
The
Youth, led by Marge Ream, participated in seven District Rallies. Seven of the
kids worked and paid their way to the State Convention on the Western Michigan
University campus. The Sand Lake Sunday School picnic brought 46 for food,
fellowship, and fun on a warm August Sunday afternoon. The WCG women excitedly
climaxed the year with their annual Bazaar, raising $1,000.00—a first time
achievement.
We
were doing more than just spinning our wheels and slinging mud; we were forging
ahead. This became obvious when we signed a contract to purchase land from Mr.
Paul Cripes on M-86--east. We met November 5, 1980 at Attorney O’Malley’s
office and signed that document. In addition, we were gaining newcomers Gary
and Cathy Holmes, Anderson, IN (AU graduates); Major and Dorothy Green, Akron,
OH; Brenda Engel and children, Defiance, OH; and others who came in with the
expansion at the new Hydramatic Plant.
Dorothy
Green found worshipping in a predominantly white church a new experience. Major
became a “significant player” at the local Roman Catholic parish, led by our
friend “Father Mike”, a charismatic young priest with whom we frequently
swapped stories. Major also became one of our closest of friends, until his
premature death. It was not unusual for Major to ring the parsonage phone and
ask Tommie to share a special prayer concern. Major and “Dot” played
significant roles in our lives as beloved friends. To this day, Dorothy remains
active as one of the senior members of the congregation. “Dot Jean,” as her
license plate dubs her, also plays a significant role as a member of “the
Warner’s” extended family--a true shepherd whenever this writer needs a friend.
Gary
and Cathy soon assumed strong leadership and teaching roles. They began by
leading the young adults using the Dobson series--Focus on the Family.
Gary became a significant male model for several Sunday school youngsters badly
in need of mature adult friends and a superb churchman. Gary became an
outstanding teacher, also heading the ushering staff. Brenda later transferred
to the new “GM” plant on Fort Wayne’s south side, adjacent to I69.
One
of the most memorable “funnies” resulted when a skunk invaded Gary
and
Cathy’s premises forcing them to vacate for a time. We smile now,
remembering
those several weeks they spent in the parsonage waiting for their
residence
to become livable. Ten years with us marked a decade of growth
for
them, during which they greatly blessed our lives. Their departure left
a
humongous hole in our hearts and in the leadership of the church. It left us
keenly
aware of just how much we loved the Holmes
family--now living in
Greenfield,
IN and attending the Northside Christian Church.
Our
five-pointed Star of Hope visualized “what is happening” in our midst. It
gathered our renewed hopes as we finalized purchase of our relocation site and
completed our year of planning ways to achieve growth, through
(1) Expanding enlistment of
individuals in the Lord’s work (Evangelism),
(2) Strengthening
and expanding our Sunday school (Educational ministry);
(3) Enlisting
increased financial resources;
(4) And through
adding additional musical talent.
Norm
Edwards and John Bishop each went to work at General Motors. Mary expanded her
horizons by meeting many of the foreign guests at the International Centennial
Convention that convened in Anderson, IN—June 1980. I planted flowers around
the parsonage. Rod Barnhart kept them alive and watered. And Ted Reed invested
multiplied hours puttering around the property--painting and sprucing it up.
Isabel Root relocated from Battle Creek and became a quiet, faithful—and
always-dependable--part of our fellowship.
The
fourteen that came throughout that first summer of 1979 now saw fourteen in
Mary’s Sunday school class during the fall of 1980. We registered in the
national Sunday school growth effort led by Warner Press. Prudent planning
suggested we prepare ourselves with teachers and that we plan space for an
anticipated one-hundred in Sunday school. December brought special
Pre-Christmas services with Bob Baker and his extraordinary chalk artistry
utilizing his popular three-dimensional system and black lighting.
My
year's-end Christmas letter noted plenteous problems--some puzzling. Yet, 1981
promised many new possibilities--transition filled with phenomenal privileges
and possibilities. The new Hydramatic Plant added significantly to our growth
as it continued gearing up for 2,100 employees.
-1981-
Spring
found Dennis and Beverly Smith completing their new home near Marcellus, after
relocating in 1980 from West Virginia to work at Hydramatic. The Bob Coburn’s’
moved into the area from Saginaw. Easter attendance zoomed to 110, boosted by a
large Barnhart delegation of Gladys’s boosters. Ken and Teresa Rowe began
attending--bringing lovely little Christina. The Chuck Schrader family returned
after worshipping in Colon several years.
Kalamazoo
area congregations rally together in the early spring and host Dr. Gilbert
Stafford. This former Midland, MI pastor--now our North American radio preacher--was
a fourteen-year-old when we first met him on a pine infested North Georgia
campground in the mid-fifties. Gil’s father, Evangelist D. C. Stafford, served
that year at “Whispering Pines” - Georgia Camp Meeting.
Now
holding a prestigious Doctor of Theology degree from Boston University,
Stafford’s sermon that evening prompted our pastor’s wife to observe, “A
teacher has finally come among us.” It was a deserved
tribute to a gracious and longtime friend.
The
Holmes’ family moved into their new (1836) home in rural White Pigeon--11308
Barker Road. Kathryn Gregg gave up her independence and moved into River Forest
Manor. Elsie Hackler donated a lovely antique water pitcher and washbasin that
we long used--very judiciously.
Two
events marked May 1981. The Michigan Youth Convention saw twice as many youth
attend from Three Rivers as the year before. Thirteen youth worked and earned
their way, accompanied by three counselors. End of the month Memorial Day
Services--5-31-81--memorialized Marie Clark, Clarence Blodgett, Raymond
Barnhart, and Associate Pastor, Dan Turnbow (10-4-1917--5-5-1981).
As
I told the congregation, I had counted on Dan’s becoming part of our future and
for once in my life I was rather upset with God. Yet, we do not always know just
how God will direct. Things were progressing well! Correspondence from Dr.
Hetrick in Lansing offered this revealing response:
Dear
Wayne--
I enjoyed reading
your letter and the positive report of
a
special day at Three Rivers. It must feel good to have had 63
people
in Service and have that response. Sixty-three people
just
about packs you out there.
It
would be great if you could continue there to lead the
people
through the locating and building. Bill Wood used to kid
me
by saying “when you get this church built up I’ll be happy
to
take the pastorate.” My reply; “when I get it built up I’m going
to
take the pastorate myself!” You may too.
Congratulations
on turning so many negatives into positives.
I’ll
run some substance from your letter in “Action“.
Wayne,
if you want to continue the bulletin covers with that
idea,
Karl could draw it up for you here. If you like we’ll do
this
for you gratis.
Sincerely, Gale
2-25-81
By
now, we were implementing plans for building a new facility, initiating action
to eventually provide a fulltime resident pastor, and implement further growth
toward a projected goal of a 500-member congregation.
We
Warner’s celebrated thirty years of ministry in June, with our second
anniversary in Three Rivers. In addition to playing Cornet in the General
Motors Ensemble, Gary Holmes teamed up with Mark Henline and formed a trumpet
duo that richly enhanced our worship services. Darren Cole soon added his
drums—his first attempt at church music. I commended Darren; he did it
tastefully and offended no one’s sensitive eardrums--long before the transition
into guitars, drums, and overly-loud percussion instruments.
We
hosted local celebrities like Jess Yountz and his wife--popular TR Police Chief
and brother of future attendee, Ruth Mitschelen, but were deeply saddened by
Bertha Reed’s death. Our growing youth group sponsored a highly popular Hunger
Rock-a-thon in the church basement--rocking all-night in their rocking chairs.
This annual event raised funds over the next several years.
Hattie
Cole coordinated our participation in the community Crop Walk, with our group
strongly representing all ages.
Sunday
school cruised along nicely, ranging between 48-63. Church members wondered
“how long before we build?” Summer mail brought praise from Dr. Hetrick, who
wrote from Lansing, “it is always pleasant to hear good news and to know
God’s blessings in your ministry and in the church in Three Rivers.”
We
forged ahead. Operation Reach initiated a three-year experiment that led us to
elect a seven-member Steering Committee to replace several committees for which
we lacked personnel. We pinned our hopes on
prioritizing member enlistment,
providing
leadership training,
maximizing
the facilities,
implementing
(strengthening) pastoral services, and
shoring
up sagging finances.
In
October, the church retained Walter Perry’s architectural firm from Grand
Rapids, and approved an option to add two more acres at the rear of our new
property, expanding it from five to seven acres. We later agreed that our
seven-member Steering Committee should follow through with Architect Perry by
serving as Church Building Committee until completion of the new facility.
The
church voted to increase pastoral allowance and reduce pastor’s Battle Creek
workload. The Sunday school expanded into the Annex Building following the
church converting the Annex from oil to gas. Along with making the property
payment, our Building Funds increased to $17,000 and the church’s ministry
pressed forward.
Since
our local WCG felt strongly convicted that they were more about “service” than
fundraising, I share this resume of their 1980-1981 report, which I applauded
and appreciated:
1. Christ’s Birthday
Offering--the congregation’s largest ever.
2. Helped support
Art/Norma Eikamp in Japan, Hope Hill’s ministry in Kentucky
and the Indian Mission at Scottsbluff, NE *(Steve and Mary Molnar would make
more than one trip to Scottsbluff eventually, with the Warner‘s delivering
clothing to both Hope Hill and Pine Crest, KY).
3. Supported Mohamid
Jahangin an impoverished child in India.
4. Sent three boxes
of blankets and quilts to Scottsbluff, NE.
5. Assisted a local
family--burned out.
6. Recorded 36 paid
WCG memberships--a first.
7. Channeled church
contributions from Youth Rock-a-thon to World Hunger
of $671 and added $900 to the church’s World Service total.
The
year ended with the church rallying and giving the largest Christ‘s Birthday Offering
in the congregation‘s ninety-three year history (emphasis added). My
Christmas letter summarized our rationale in keeping our church doors open:
“Because we follow the Messenger
of Peace who brings
good
news to the poor,
heals
the broken hearted,
releases
the captives,
frees
the imprisoned, and
proclaims
the day of the Lord.”
1982
January
1982 introduced the extraordinary Deep Freeze. George Clark died suddenly,
after stroking a couple of times. His passing proved painful--too quick for most of
us! God made only one George, and George enjoyed many friends who helped make
his Community Viewing in Mendon a memorable event.
The
evening before the funeral, one of George’s longtime cronies--a crusty old
farmer and trusted ally walked over and stood by George’s casket. Allison and
Tommie (my wife) stood nearby. Standing there in his overalls, George’s old
ally stared long and hard--silently--solemnly. Suddenly, unabashed and with
full and friendly familiarity, this man of simple tastes softly spoke … as if
lost in his own thoughts and unaware of those around him, he growled, half
under his breath and half aloud, “you‘re up there now, George; tell‘em to
turn up the heat!”
The
two women could not help overhearing George’s friend. Nor, could they resist
soft snickers--tiny, but audible. But that was George! His contagious laughter
and his funny stories imprinted our lives -indelibly. Some of us never forgot
that miserable day … Memorial Service … blizzard conditions … daytime high of
-5 … bitter cold … roads drifting shut as quickly as snowplows opened them.
Harry
Eikoff, Mendon’s community Mortician finally surrendered to the elements. He
cancelled graveside rites at the last possible moment and dispatched the
pallbearers, accompanied by this bareheaded pastor--delivering George’s body to
the Cemetery while a County snowplow broke a path for George’s companions. We
made our way to-and-from the cemetery two miles west of town, surviving a
once-in-a-lifetime experience.
After
that eventful day, Tommie and I
frequently drove through Mendon to-and-from Battle Creek, and we chuckled while
passing through on main street ... always watching for the Clark home ... one block north--northeast corner--far
corner, right side. We recalled our visits there, as well as the times we ate
out and about the region with George and Marie ... often accompanied by Gladys
Barnhart. Sometimes we jaunted across the state line and lunched in Indiana …
just ahead of Indiana locals, due to our time differentiation.
In
our minds, we still heard George somewhere up there in God’s country--laughing
heartily at our discomfort over the cold and inconveniences of the day when we
celebrated his coronation. It warmed and refreshed our hearts anew--always!
One
of those miserable blizzards prevented George Blackwell from his first visit to
Three Rivers. Therefore, in March 1982, we repeated our invitation for George
to come and explore the possibilities of doing a Church Development Study. In
doing so, we discovered we were no longer the “small church” we thought we
were. In fact, we learned we had become an average “mid-size” congregation, and
we were growing.
Households
in our area continued to increase. Our limited facilities still sustained more
growth than they could maintain. We desperately needed new facilities and
additional income. Blackwell raised our sights appreciably, while gently
massaging our spirits.
The
February 28 Sunday Bulletin noted that 39 pledges were made during 1975-1978
under Pastor James, and out of that had come $21,747 that purchased property,
paid $8,000 on the property, and placed $18,000 into a bank account for
building purposes. In the meantime, we completed our study with George
Blackwell and insulated our four frame buildings at a cost of $2,653.60. We
received an April 22 Insulation Offering that finished the insulation bill at
Graber Construction Company, as well as paying out a substantial paving bill.
Although
deeply engrossed in our relocation-construction project, we were nonetheless
saddened in early 1982 by the terrible plight of eighteen of our Church of God counterparts
in Guatemala--slaughtered by local terrorists. How blessed we were, pursuing
our objectives peaceably.
Simultaneously, ten percent of our community Crop Walk represented
people from our own expanding fellowship.
Seventeen
youth went to State Convention and on June 6--my 4th year--the church voted
unanimously for me to become their pastor--fulltime. They called me home early
from Anderson Camp Meeting to conduct the final service for Maggie ((Margret
E.) Thompson. We celebrated a June 16 Memorial Service at our Pearl Street
Chapel. Maggie had been our last connection with that oldest generation; she
had initiated recording our first printed history, and now, after being
incapacitated for several years and unable to attend services, she was now part
of that same history.
On
July 4 weekend, we turned another corner when I occupied the bachelor quarters
in the old parsonage; While Tommie worked in Battle Creek, I occupied the
parsonage. We converted the remainder of the house into educational and office
space. Until Tommie's retirement in 1992, we commuted back and forth as
necessary in our in-between times.
Church
and family felt greatly relieved with the July 7 improvement of Jerry Altimus
(Ruth’s son) at Bronson Hospital, after taking a 7,200-volt electric charge
while working on a utility line. Late July saw fifty-four TR-congregants at our
Warner Camp Meeting and fellowship over picnic dinner--our best singular effort
for a single camp meeting.
Marvin
Krontz came from Battle Creek, presenting an interesting August magic show for
the Sunday school children. Tom Shill--blind singer from Warner
Southern--thrilled everyone with his vocal concert. Our youth received
area-wide recognition in the fall, when Sophomore Chucky Schrader received
accolades as an honorable mention in football at Centreville High School.
The
November Harvest celebration brought an excellent response as Jacob Kakish, a
Jordanian minister, brought new understanding of our Arab Ministries in
Detroit. We learned that the largest Arab population outside of the Middle East
lived in Detroit, MI. Linda Edward’s children’s class led the way, raising $150
on their own for Jacob‘s ministries.
December
found us engrossed in Mary Molnar’s puppet production, with an evening of drama
by the youth, directed by Norm Edwards. Chuck Martin, Allegan pastor, conducted
revival services. An urgent appeal from Luz Gonzales received a positive
response, enabling us to send a special offering toward the new church building
in Eagle Pass, Texas. Led by Juan Rodriguez, they were surpassing 200 in
attendance.
“Your
newsletter” concluded an unsolicited friend, “helps to re-mind us there are
still good places in the pastorate. . .You are accomplishing more on a
part-time basis than most of us do full-time, as your attendance and financial
reports clearly show. You have my regards, ‘sympathies’ and envy!” Those heart-warming words came from our
friend, Don Mitten--pastor at Clearwater Chapel, just south of Houston, Texas,
with whom I continued to exchange newsletters for some years.
The
year 1982 saw the church recognize us for our three years of pastoral service …
surely God was honoring our efforts to “keep the doors open.” As 1982 ended, we were busier than
ever--happy--growing. Best of all, moving day was closer than ever before.
_______________
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - Field of
Dreams
I mean to go right on until the
crown is won;
I mean to fight the fight of faith
Till life on earth is done.
I’ll never more turn back, Defeat I
shall not know,
For God will give me victory If
onward I shall go.
Charles W. Naylor
-1983-
I
struggled at length to find words and ability to adequately paint the verbal
pictures to express the rollercoaster ride I felt we endured while relocating
and building new. We experienced both conflict and times of celebrative
congregational joy. Could we achieve what none of my predecessors had
accomplished? I did not honestly know! I rather dreaded the frenetic
scheduling, difficult decisioning, exacerbated stresses, and sometimes broken
relationships that often create leadership changes.
Pitfalls,
over-stressed days, decisions that encourage pent-up emotions, and excuses for
feeling-and-nursing hurts, all added up to one huge test of leadership. I knew
enough about Building Programs to foresee a demand for extra nurturing to
prevent broken relationships sometimes created by decisions that bring
disagreement. Strong leaders often win hard-fought battles and leave as victims
feeling like losers, having created no-win situations when win-win
opportunities are called for. This was no exception. Unfortunately, it allowed
no opportunities for pushing a re-run button.
I
made concerted efforts to avoid being autocratic, knowing I could be forceful.
I listened, and I worked at utilizing group decisions. On occasion, the best of
intentions failed to keep all the fences mended. Congregationally, we survived
reasonably healthy, with minimal relational damages. Now and then, we
experienced a few scuffed feelings, but none permanently scarred. By my
retirement in 1996, we had fewer in attendance than I knew we should have had,
but we were healthier than when we first began, and more in number.
I
rejoiced with the harmonious and renewing faith of the majority of the
congregation. They took personal pleasure in working together. We met and kept
new friends, in spite of losing a few we preferred to keep. Occasionally
emotions piled up and blurred the vision of a few; this hindered the efforts of
the majority, and I watched it happen more than once. Yet, I found myself
unable to prevent the minor disruptions that occasionally resulted. I mourned
them as casualties to our growth, but I rejoiced that they were minimal and
only occasional.
Times
when dominant personalities boiled over were difficult for me; they created
tensions that threatened the same relationships I was trying to nurture.
Looking back: I see ordinary people doing what ordinary people do, which often
leaves a pastor walking a lonely path, smoothing ruffled feathers, dousing
frustration's fires, trying to maintain forward momentum. Some individuals
never comprehended the stresses they left in their wake. Their wounded feelings
left disenchanted victims that infected the whole body and few ever understood
the nature of their virus.
Congregations
seldom grow until overcoming these relational fevers, all of which require high
dosages of God’s lubricating grace, love, and “divine grease.” Congregations are better off without such experiences, but
they continue to happen wherever people get together, simply because
they are people. Not all the eruptions reached the public forum, and in the
main I was pleased that we accomplished what we did with as few casualties as
we had.
I
salute this congregation; I loved you with everything I had; and you achieved
significantly--in a relatively wholesome atmosphere. Together, we did a
super-sized good job. I believe we could have done it better; however, we did
our best with what we had. May those who follow behind us do as well with
what we left them, as we did with what our forbearers left us.
Observers
will examine our records one day without “feeling” any of the heat from our
struggles. May they recognize the diligence that fortified our efforts. May
they know we did not always “feel” saintly, especially when we failed in
achieving our objectives. Nor did those who wrote history before us always
“feel” satisfied with their achievements; so, let the reader share in the
exhilaration we experienced in dedicating our achievements to God‘s Kingdom
purposes, even while feeling a little of the pain from our gains.
Longtime
friends, Bill and Ursula Miller, launched 1983 for us with a friendly visit
from our Lansing Service Center. Friends for more than half a century, the
Miller's frequented “TR” during Bill’s years as Associate Secretary of the
Church of God in Michigan. Not everyone knows that Bill and I first met in San
Antonio, Texas--1952. We were two very young Michiganians,--mere boys—a
thousand miles from home.
I
served a mission church in San Angelo, Texas. It had been strapped with a huge
handicap of debt before becoming able to walk. Bill, married to the lovely
Ursula, served as Assistant Pastor at Highland Park San Antonio, led by our
mutual friends, Lloyd and Reba Butler, while Bill completed his tour of duty in
the Air Force. I have an abiding love for William A. Miller and his commitment
to the Church of God and the Church of God in Michigan!
That
Sunday visit freed us to spend Christmas in Kentucky with our only
daughter--Meredith. Later that month Cathy Holmes initiated “children’s story
time.” She incorporated new and fun-filled moments that expanded our families,
enriched our corporate worship, and enhanced the learning of many who found it
instructive.
February brought a
Valentine’s Day bash at Eby’s Pines, near Middlebury, Indiana that proved
grossly popular. Later, we met in a special-called Congregational Business
session to support our Steering Committee in placing our Pearl Street
properties on the market with Titus Reality.
Ninety
newsletters went out to our growing circle of friends. I believed it essential
to stay in regular communication. “Operation Feet First,” launched with plans
to be completed by June 5. Norm Edwards led the charge and we worked at
achieving a dollar-a-foot for the “Miracle Mile” between our chapel and the new
site on M-86. We planned for it for funding our water well and septic system,
since we were outside the municipality.
“Feet
First” launched dramatically that Sunday morning when shoes suddenly flew
toward the platform from all directions of the chapel - without warning, but by
pre-arrangement. This gleeful exuberance startled serious worshippers, but brought
everyone fully awake. Young and old alike joined the fund-raising festivity and
we had great fun raising the needed dollar-a-foot funding for our miracle mile
project.
Simultaneously,
we joined 575 area worshippers at Kalamazoo, in Westwood’s rally of
renewal--Spring Unity Rally. “The Futures” arrived in “TR” from Anderson
University and performed skillfully for an appreciative audience. Special
programs came and went, but our minds stayed solidly fixed on building plans.
A
Steering Committee note from June 29 reported unanimous agreement on two local
key issues:
1.
The new facility must be flexible and multi-purpose (not just a
worship center).
2.
It must be fellowship focused ... (people centered, energy
conservative, and educationally enduring).
Discussions
between the Committee-congregation and Walter Perry focused on these two
requirements. Perry challenged us further to make our facility as beautiful as
possible, not merely aesthetically attractive but “God-beautiful”--Ezekiel
43:1-5.
With our
Sunday school now enrolling 82, significant summer events resulted in multiple
activities at our Pearl Street chapel. Just prior to July Family Camp, we
hosted Evangelist James H. Curtis (now deceased). Dr. Curtis, a friend since
the early fifties, came from Mid-America Christian University to conduct
revival services for us (the last in the Chapel), before serving as Camp
Meeting evangelist at Warner Camp.
In
August Charles Shumate came from our National Department of Evangelism to
conduct a mini-evangelism clinic. Always inspirational, “Chuck” did double duty
by also serving as banquet speaker for our Sunday School Workers at Eby‘s
Pines, west of Middlebury, IN.
Our
annual September Business Meeting approved “Operation Reach,” and agreed to
extend it through 1984. The Steering Committee had already met monthly for
three years, following our reorganization in 1981. We authorized them to serve
until September 1984, and/or the completion of the new facility, whichever came
first.
Congregational
focus stayed with launching the new facility with all due haste--without waste.
Preparatory to building, the Steering Committee called for completion of the
numerous improvements currently underway on Pearl Street. The list included:
1. Purchase and installation of new
parsonage storm windows,
2. Completion of paneling on the south wall of
the Chapel and
3. Construction of a new kneeling
altar--Schrader project,
4. Building a new chimney on the chapel,
5. Installing a
chapel sound system (donated by the Greenville Church of God via pastor Don O‘Leary),
6. Removing the unsightly fuel oil tank at the
rear of the chapel, Chuck Schrader and Gary Holmes installed the ceiling
lights in the chapel (donated by the Greenville Church),
7. Scraping-painting the exterior and
cleaning interior of the chapel,
8. Selecting Walt Perry as Construction
Engineer,
9. Listing our properties with the Realtors,
10. Installing a new
sign at the M-86 site,
11. Initiating “Feet
First,” a program that netted $2300 (later extended by the congregation),
12. Renting 1107
Main--rental house (adding $150 to the monthly
Building
Fund, plus two weekly rentals of the chapel by
a Paw
Paw, MI. church group interested in planting a new church,
13. Assisting the
youth program (when necessary),
14. Picking up costs
for pastor’s Health Insurance, and
15.
Obtaining zoning clearance for the new facility.
With
several of these items already completed (including the March insulation
project of $2,658.60), the congregation had now invested eleven thousand dollars
into new property and $7,500 into improving the current facilities. That said
the Building Fund now stood at above $20,000; the congregation had “Building on
its mind” as it contemplated leaving the 1.7-acre-home that had been home for
the past half-century. On completing investigation of several sites around the
city, and its fringes, our consensus suggested that we build on our seven acres
at 17398 M-86.
Pastoral
support received a boost. Growth goals increased. The congregation exceeded its
World Service goal of $1630, giving a record $1790. Plans called for Pastor to
obtain a bulk-mailing permit to reach our growing constituency.
-1984-
By
the end of January, we were anticipating arrival of our building plans,
hoping that we might begin building by April.
One
Sunday, Kelly Munger substituted as our worship leader, and we thought we had
found just the person we were looking for – to become our Worship Leader. This
proved disappointing, however, for Kelly moved elsewhere very soon after. Softening
that disappointment was the later discovery that Kelly eventually became Senior
Pastor at New Hope Church of God in Belding, MI.
We
planned--did not make it--for 1984 to be the year we achieved “100-or-more, in
‘84.” Later, we joined Allegan Church of God in co-hosting the area Spring
Unity Service in Kalamazoo. On March 11, we requested bids for review by March
25, but quickly saw that costs appeared much higher than anticipated. This left
us disappointed and apprehensive.
To
pump more funds into the building project, I offered to return to secular
employment, but the Steering Committee rejected my well-intentioned offer. They
knew the church needed an additional $300 per month before applying for a loan,
but they wanted pastoral presence.
Bidding
varied, depending on the degree of completion, including one turnkey job by
Grand Rapids-based Boersma Builders. Several partial bids came in based on the
loan size. Eventually, we settled on Bill Glashour‘s low bid, a man already
well-acquainted with architect, Walt Perry.
Glashour’s
bid began with a base of $53,360.26. Additional construction issues were based
on how-much or how-little labor the congregation added to the mix. We mutually
agreed on a total of $86,416; the congregation committed to furnish as much
labor as possible. This left the interior finish work for us to complete, which
few of us fully comprehended at the time, as to how much detail that did
actually involve. We knew we needed $65,768, and we believed we could
reasonably handle a loan of that sum. Long discussions with Architect Perry
followed regarding cost reduction. Perry suggested we reduce our building size
by ten percent, and reviewed other ways we might reduce our costs.
Reviewing
our annual income between 1979 and 1984 showed the upward spiraling of our
financial growth:
1979 $10,497.31
1980 14,357.
1981 21,157.
1982 20,873.
1983 28.535.
1984
32,500. (projection based on 6-month gross of $16,168.54 (up 12%).
Our
Building Fund review revealed the following:
1979 $10,260.94
1984 19,278.16 (3-84) with payouts of
$05,000 Perry
10,320 Property
2,653 Insulation
987 Chimney & other expenses along with
Pearl Street paving, which came
from general funds.
Between
mid-1979 and 1984, we added approximately $28,000 to the $10,000 accumulated
into the Building Fund as launched by Fred James. Our building fund had
averaged $499 a month through this five-year period. Our six-month monthly
average for 1984 (including rental monies) totaled $649.91--not quite the
required amount.
Sale
of the little house--1107 South Main--to Allen Bell on April 8--inched us
closer to a construction date. We had now jointly supported Christian
Brotherhood Hour radio on WSTR for several years, assisted by the
Sturgis-LaGrange congregations. I secured a Warner Press book consignment,
thinking to introduce some useful books into the congregation--tools for
practicing Christians. Scott Warner proved helpful as a seminary student by
providing us a well-done church growth survey. Supervised by former missionary
Dr. Douglas Welch, now retired professor, it gave us a useful tool.
Although
heavily engaged in costly relocation projects, we subscribed to a roll of
fifteen “VC’s, [Vital Christianity] as part of our parish ministry. Dr.
Hetrick and the Service Center provided us free worship folders, which I
designed and the State Office printed gratis. Dr. Hetrick proved himself a true
friend of the congregation.
June
3, 1984 became as a significant date in the history of the congregation when
the church approved borrowing $70,000 from Three Rivers Savings & Loan, to
launch our new facility. This followed
completion of payments on our first five acres of property, while also
overcoming several other obstacles. The Steering Committee seriously challenged
our ability to handle the size of loan we needed; nonetheless, we passed the
milestone that summer and broke ground at 17398 East M-86--our dusty cornfield
of dreams.
Forty
people met for worship that afternoon of July 19, 1984. The day was seasonably
hot as we drove the Miracle Mile in orderly fashion that Sunday
afternoon. We gathered inside the staked-off area – of dreams. Foot deep in
cornhusks, we sang, we prayed, and we gave heart-felt thanks to God, as
ministers Warner and Miller led us under a blazing July sun.
The
open-air service included an overview of past and future by Myrtle Bishop and
Pastor Warner. A lovely duet by William and Ursula Miller followed, and then
the congregation listened intently to Associate Secretary Miller’s timely
challenge. We broke ground with the new shovel I purchased from Kauzler’s
Hardware for the occasion [I still retain]. Seven volunteers - representing the
congregation and designating perfecting wholeness and totality – each turned a
shovel of dirt. The following liturgy concluded our historic dedication:
We now,
as pastor and people of this congregation;
Compassed
about with a great cloud of witnesses;
Grateful
for our heritage;
Aware of
the sacrifice of our fathers in the faith;
Do
dedicate ourselves anew to the worship and service of Almighty God,
Through
Jesus our Lord,
Amen.
On the
final Sunday of July, 39 of us gathered at Grand Junction's Warner Family Camp,
to conclude with the traditional baptismal service in Lester Lake. It was my
joyous privilege to baptize four of our youth: Chris and Scott Edwards, Joy
Ellard and Valorie Soice. The following Sunday, August 1, I presented them
Baptismal Certificates (*Twenty-six years later, I listened as Dr. Scott
Edwards shared his testimony after serving as the 2010 Warner Family Camp Youth
Director, which he did again in 2011).
We
received our building permit--still needed bids for the septic system and water
well. August 24th His Players came from Clarkston, MI
presenting “Come Again: Portrait of a Family.” Mark Krontz, former
Battle Creek parishioner, and David Crump, son of the Kokomo, IN pastor,
directed the event, which proved popular
enough to repeat at our annual Fall Harvest Dinner at First Presbyterian Church
on November 17..
During
August, a note came from our friend Everett Jenkins at Kalamazoo Wesleyan. He
suggested we name our newsletter the Standard from “Lift up a standard
for the people” (Isaiah 62:10). He wrote, “speaks to me of the leadership
of the church, and so is a fitting slogan or motto for the newsletter.
Sincerely s/Everett Jenkins.” We can
only say now that we miss you, dear brother!
The
arrival of September 24, 1984 became a RED LETTER DAY in Three Rivers, as Bill
Glassour moved his construction crew and equipment onsite to initiate building
our new facility, the launching pad for or ministries locally. Plans called for
pouring concrete in early October. The September 30 Worship Folder reported weight
bearing walls would be poured on Thursday and pads would be prepared for the
poles on Friday. We eagerly waited for October 10 and the initial pouring of the
floor.
Glassour’s
crew had three walls standing by early October. This left the front wall [south
end] open for easy access by equipment. Electrical and plumbing work quickly
got underway. Rick Starks busied his crew in doing the necessary dirt work for
the septic system. Dick Clark of Mendon [George and Marie’s son] planned to
install the well ASAP - as soon as possible.
Concrete
work called for ten men on October 8, directed by George Atkin--contractor from
Clio, MI. This active Michigan Kingdom builder [City Manager at Clio] proved
adequate for this task. Gary Holmes, John Bishop, Rod Barnhart, and Norm
Edwards spent an exhausting day of pouring and finishing, after completing
floor leveling prior to actual pouring. Pastor and Gary
Oberlander burned brush and assisted wherever else needed. Darkness fell on
all of us long before we were ready and before we finally finished with the
5,200-plus square feet of cement flooring.
“George”
supervised the project at cost, supported by Kingdom Builders from around
Michigan, assisted by local men. We had great fun with George and immensely
enjoyed having him as our house guest.
Roofing plans called for ten to twenty men October 19-20.
Again, calls went out to Kingdom Builders across Michigan. They came from all
directions, led by former pastor, Wayne Halbleib. Our ever-dependable ladies
prepared meals at the parsonage--whenever needed--for whomever. They prepared
good wholesome food—lots of it, and lots of hard work made these the
experiences of a lifetime. Occasional guests and workers lodged at the
parsonage, and elsewhere when needed. Some commuted a day at a time. Without
those faithful Kingdom Builders--and other volunteers--who joined hearts and
hands, we would not yet have our facility!
When
it came time for roofing, several of our men “diligently” unloaded the seventy
squares hauled from Grand Rapids. This “grunt work” proved arduous, but we made
significant progress, supported by some heavy-duty equipment for the “heavy
work.” The church bulletin noted that all workers--paid and volunteer--gave
FULL measure and God blessed in multiplied ways--as only He can.
Congregationally,
we were moving toward a mindset of needed maintenance ministry and thinking
less and less about “surviving.” We worked closely with The Church of God
in Michigan; Gerald Nevitt and Bill Miller kept abreast of our progress. They
were anxious to help us complete our revitalization, find our niche, and
grow into an aggressive, mission-minded church focused on outreach, and
determined to touch needy lives. It was a worthy dream, coordinated by a
cooperative pastor and a helpful State Organization that brought out the best
of both!
As
autumn raced by, we enjoyed one of our occasional celebrations at the Schrader
Farm southeast of town. Our Halloween
bash brought 81 celebrants together, and some of our folk partied well. A few
weeks later, we celebrated another of our annual November Harvest Dinners.
These were always celebrative. This time we turned to our own, using local
talent for programming. Sixty celebrants relished good food, good fun, and good
fellowship. On Sunday, we received a good offering for our State Harvest
Ministries.
It
came with considerable nostalgia when Mother McCoo stood in my pulpit and
delivered her very own personal year-end message for December 30, 1984. Roberta
came as a gift from God, having only recently come to us via the mostly black
Vandalia Church of God. Almost immediately, she won a place of respect among
our congregants. Although she was now elderly and limited to the general
confinements of Senior Adults, she joined our efforts to complete our
unfinished facility. She had been a talented worker, both in the secular market
and in the church, first in Pittsburg, then Chicago, before arriving in Vandalia.
God bestowed an especially discerning spirit upon Roberta that greatly blessed
our fellowship [and none more than this pastor]. She was a true “Mother in
Israel”.
The text of her short message made
this proclamation:
“To
my brothers and sisters in the Lord. I feel very humble
and
honored to be lovingly and graciously asked to give a short
message.
I am so grateful that God led me to this church. For how
you
have received me into your fellowship. As I meditated on some-
thing
for a message, God gave me the subject of “Infinite Love” from
Ephesians
3:17-21.
“God
is love” (I John 4:8). For God so loved the world that He
gave
His only begotten Son that whosoever believeth in Him should
not
perish; but have everlasting life” (John 3:16).
“There
are many kinds of love, but I am talking about
God’s
spiritual love. A rewarding experience occurs when we let
God’s
love in our hearts express for others, and in return receive
their
love. When we remember the many ways God’s love has bless-
ed
and enriched our lives, our hearts fill with gratitude and desire
to
express love more fully to our fellowman.
“The breadth of God’s love; how it amazes the
mind. Far
greater
than anything known; that His own dear Son, so gracious
and
kind, should ever step down from His throne. The Length of
His
love, immeasurably great, encircling the whole earth, to reach
every
tribe, island and state. That man might partake of His worth.
“The
Depth of that love; from heaven come down to ransom
the
lowest of mankind. Our Lord laid aside His scepter and crown;
redemption
for sinner to win. The Height of God's love,, exceeding
our
thoughts. Raising from sin and the grave, bringing to glory the
souls
that He bought, By His own precious blood which He gave.
His
love is so great, far greater than all, Exceeding abundantly
more
than man could ever ask, imagine, or think. In Jesus, the One
we
adore, And how is it mine, this salvation divine?
“According”
thus saith His Word, to the power of God that
worketh
within believers redeemed by the Lord.
“If
we are patient, forgiving and understanding, we do fulfil
God’s
law of love. There is no one outside of God’s love. He hates the
sin
but loves the sinner. When we find one not living acccording to God's
will,
we should not withhold our love and compassion. Strive to love that
one
into Christ. When our channels of love are kept open, miracles do
happen
and we learn that love is able to do all things.
“Beloved,
let us love one another, for love is of God, and he who
loves
is born of God and knows God” (I John 4:7).
“May
we all continue to share this love we have during this
holiday
season, throughout every day of the coming New Year of
1985.”
God’s richest
blessings rest on all of you.
Roberta D. McCoo
My
Christmas letter from the Pastoral Family encouraged our Church Family to
believe “we can have the interior completed through the winter and dedicate it
in the spring.” That proved overly optimistic, but we did have our new
bulk-mailing permit and began those mailings with Mother McCoo assisting me
with the details of keeping our 200 or more families in contact. The new
Yearbook, [expected late in January, 1985], would show 56 members, 90
enrollment in Sunday school and an average of 35, with an average of 49 in
worship.
We
noted the slight dip and pressed forward-and-upward on our continuing ascent.
_______________
CHAPTER NINETEEN - Unfinished
Agenda
Following
Jesus from day to day,
Gently
He leads me along the way.
E’er
will I trust Him, all foes despite,
By
faith and not by sight.
Clara Brooks and Andrew L.
Byers,
Worship the Lord, p.440
-1985-
We turned the corner
of 1984-1985 feeling relatively successful, however “historic” 1984 may have
been for us. The empty shell of our new building stood proudly in the lee of a
stormy horizon. Another Great Lakes winter was upon us as Michigan Power
connected us into the power grid. Finally, our plumbing, heating, and
electrical contractors were under way.
Our current theme,
“THE CHURCH ALIVE in ‘85”, called us to move beyond survival mode and
fulfill the vision of relocation. I wanted to mobilize our membership more
effectively by upgrading “our mission outreach.” I was especially anxious to
encourage new church growth. Transfer growth had enabled us to move and build,
but the Great Commission called us to new growth - “outreach” to the
unchurched.
Transfer
growth via Hydramatic had pumped new life into to us. We now needed to increase
our State and National giving, as well as incrementally increase our pastoral
support, which had always been anemic. To accomplish this, I purposed a
possible first-ever Annual Missions Conference during 1985. For reasons now
unknown, that never materialized; rather, the New Year began with a full slate
of unfinished business.
I
planned a full schedule of services; there was pastoral calling to do; a full
load of marriage counseling was on the docket with young couples expecting to
wed. Local and community projects compounded the pace.
At
another level, I found myself deeply immersed in work with the Board of
Directors at Warner Camp. Following our return to Michigan in 1973, Tommie and
I had linked with Ray and Grace Selent--first Resident Directors. That
relationship continued until after we buried Ray, and then we continued
volunteering annually, assisting Grace in the dining hall during camp meeting.
January
proved colder and stormier than usual. Construction efforts continued at the
slower pace of winter, leaving us without a clue that we would soon find it
advantageous to move into our uncompleted facility. We were $70,000 in debt, but when completed
our assets would total more than $230,000. We had adequate property to do
anything we thought we needed to do.
Rather
quickly, we discovered that completing the interior of our facility would be a
far bigger job than we had anticipated. Simply put, it would require more
skills than we possessed, and this left us lingering for several years. Our community
services expanded, yet we remained in a seemingly perpetual state of partial
completion. Consequently, we were not anticipating any purchase of the larger
plot owned by Paul Cripes, although we had notions of how we might like to
utilize it.
Mary
[Molnar] and I had talked often about this possibility; we even envisioned a
Senior Housing Development. We discussed a well-planned camp facility for using
overnight, or by day or week, also available to community and district
churches. It was a well-intentioned dream, but until today, it has yet to bear
fruit of any variety. It appears to me that there is no one on the horizon
dreaming such dreams, nor is anyone leading such would-be dreamers.
Since
our earlier arrival in 1979, the congregation had given nearly $9,000 to World
Service. This was not a large sum by most standards; however, it was
significant for us. We strongly believed in missions, and we stood at the helm
of a strong group of hard-working ladies that came from an earlier generation
of skilled craftsmen seldom found now. With their faithful assistance, we built
a six-year average of giving $1,434.30 to over-and-above budgetary causes, a
new congregational high.
Mary
and Steve Molnar took more than one carload of clothing and usable goods to our
Indian Mission at Scottsbluff, NE. We Warner’s made repeated trips hauling
clothing and other usable items to Garland Lacey's Appalachian Mission at Clay
City, KY. In addition, we provided other assistance to the Hope Hill, KY project,
led by Paul and Lana Sanders, as we were able. They were former Sunday school
kids in our West Texas ministry. Special building funds went to Laredo, Mexico,
solicited by our longtime friend Luz Gonzalez. Other global ministries extended
as far away as Japan and India; we were a global ministry.
Cooperative
ministries remained of paramount importance; we believed deeply in the
institutional agencies of our church, as well as the global missions for which
we all worked so hard. Meanwhile, Tommie continued working in Battle Creek,
supplemented our slowly expanding personal survival budget. She kept our
household afloat, while we enlisted every dime we could into the church
project.
I
became strongly convicted about strengthening the innumerable number of small
churches within the Church of God Movement, as I tried to keep abreast of the
newest trends and teachings through books and conferences. Denominational
leaders like Carl Dudley and Lyle Schaller provided competency and
communicative skills. Several of our own Agency Executives showed themselves
equally competent in counseling small-churches all across the Movement. Lyle
Schaller helped me understand that not everything that works in a large church
will work in the small church and not everyone who can pastor a large church
can produce growth in a small church. Congregations must be able to walk before
they can run, and each requires its own unique leadership.
By
the time Tommie and I actually retired, we discovered - somewhat to our dismay
- that we no longer had the available funds for our planned “make-over” of our
Battle Creek home--not even if we had the physical energy (which we did not).
We had pushed ahead with reckless abandon, investing heavily in our “TR
ministry,” rather than laying back for the refurbishing we knew we would need.
This
is a sand trap in the ministry, but when it came to priorities, we knew that
for us ministry had to come first and we would trust our retirement in God's
hands. Would we do it again? Possibly not! Ministry called for a hole in one; a
birdie, or even a second opinion, was not an option. On one hand, we learned
through it that God has his own ways of taking care of his own! Moreover, I
have learned that faith formulates a whole new experience when living as a
Senior Adult on a limited, fixed income, without a weekly check.
On
the other hand, one of the things I find highly satisfying when I review my
records, is brief notes like this one I found in a previous year’s Business
Meeting (1983-84 Report). I almost overlooked this “twitter” note from the “WCG
Ladies” that reported 12 families receiving Church of God Missions magazine
for that year, our informative global mission’s magazine.
This
is consistent with my practice of more than four decades; it remains one
of the things we did right, in spite of our smallness. Watching the demise of
our national church publications proved personally painful. I retired the week
that “VC” suspended publication. In my heart, I knew, we had gone second--even
third or fourth mile--in our support of institutional ministries such as Missions
Magazine, Vital Christianity, Shining Light, and Warner Press
Curriculum. Forty years of free-lance writing convinced me that if pastors
would be more faithful to their missions, there would be fewer congregations at
such loose ends as we see today. I believe we would still have the support of
those printed publications, in addition to our updated online communications;
and, our congregations would be healthier, and healthier congregations would
produce better-growing churches.
Entertaining
guests was not always an easy thing for us to do when Tommie worked in Battle
Creek and I had one foot in Battle Creek and one in Three Rivers. She filled
her role diligently and wisely, but not always easily. She had grown up in a
home that served as the community center of congregational life; her parents
generally hosted the visiting preachers at their rural church. Often, they
seated thirty guests around the dinner table.
She
also remembered the younger years of our ministry, when we hosted a continual
stream of traffic, local and national, flowing through our parsonage doors like
water through a swinging gate. Texas
neighbor Ed Vaughn, jestingly suggested that he was going to put a motel sign
in her yard on Tex Boulevard, pointing people to our 3278 address. In the case
of Three Rivers, she did not have such an easy option, and she always responded
to that with a nagging pain, for she loved being the “Queen of the Manse” and
bringing people together.
Contrary
to another longstanding custom of traveling together, she worked while I
pursued my “TR” travel engagements by myself. Then, there were those local
occasions for swapping pulpits. Pastor John Booko and I exchanged places and I
spoke for him during this January, at “TR Christian Fellowship,” the
community’s leading independent evangelical church, and widely influential.
John was a Persian emigrant (an Iranian) with an intense interest in the
religious life of the Middle East.
Joe
Cookston came from our Anderson National Board of Christian Education and he
brought extensive pastoral experience, plus marvelous musical and educational
gifts. He made Christian Education fun, educational, and profitable. I had a
strong background in Christian Education and considerable experience at the
State Level and saw our need of expertise from folk like Joe. It brought
dividends; we were improving our skills; and, we were doing much more than
keeping our doors open (a factor in my coming to TR). Our January to May Sunday
school attendance increased 62%, while worship increased 74%.
During
this year’s community Lenten series, usually held at one of the downtown
churches, I preached my own Easter series, and then experimented with our first
Easter Sunrise service at our new campus--April 7. Yes, it was primitive. We
were ill equipped; yet, our brief but simple service became a joyful
celebration of our Lord’s resurrection. It proved a satisfying and worthy
event, followed by a makeshift, fun-filled breakfast.
As
of Easter, we had not yet anticipated any possibility of a “quick exit” from
our Pearl Street Chapel. Nonetheless, May 12, 1985 became the hinge on which
our history swung. Unexpectedly, it became the final service in the little
white chapel. Half a century earlier, they had added twelve feet to the
building, jacked it up, and built a basement beneath it. They used it to the
maximum, and that facility became the neighborhood church, the Sunday school
and youth center for the south-side community.
It
served well as the launching pad, providing a place where people like the
William Leatherman's, the Virgil Brinkman‘s, and a
nameless host of others labored diligently. Now - due to an unanticipated
opportunity to sell - we worshiped on Sunday, but vacated on Monday, May 13. We
spent that week packing, having one week to clear the premises. After years of
scrimping, scraping, and sacrificing we stood face to face with an elusive
giant I called “Moving Day, Ready or Not”. Goliath stood in our way; but
we were determined to succeed, whatever the cost .
A
newly-formed congregation would meet our price, but they needed immediately
possession. They were ready to buy; we were ill-prepared for moving. “Pack it
and vacate”! That became OUR challenge!
WE
DID WHAT WE HAD TO DO! We did it, moving what we could not store. Ill prepared,
we packed hurriedly-but-carefully. Under the scrutinizing management of
Treasurer Mary Molnar, we did what we had to do. We met as usual at 508 Pearl
Street on May 12, beginning in our familiar circumstances. This day, however,
we concluded our service at 17386 M-86. As part of the service, we walked the
“miracle mile” to our newly relocated site where we concluded the service (We
did provide rides for those unable to walk).
Between
Sunday and Sunday, we moved from the familiar into the unfinished ...
uncomfortable ... unfamiliar all-purpose building. It contained no “crowd
comforts” required for public meetings. Four framed walls surrounded a slab
floor with an interior outlined with bare-studded walls. Mary had labored long
in expediting the sale of any or all of our properties, and when a sale opportunity
popped up on the monitor, we acted on the axiom that he who hesitates is lost.
We
accepted the terms of the sale, grabbed our purses, held firmly to our
opportunity, and we ran. She informed them we would be out by the weekend and
when Monday came, Mary did what she did best; she took charge. She and Steve
led the way; but, we followed. The annex and Chapel emptied on schedule and the
new owners occupied their new premises.
Meanwhile,
May 15 became drywall day, as we anticipated the arrival of a crew from
Clare--Michigan Kingdom Builders. As my newsletter noted, our agenda called for
completing as much as possible. Our formidable “to do” list, included: nursery
(air vent and one wall), east and west halls, the men’s bathroom, kitchen,
entry way, air-vent in the north classroom, and our multi-purpose (worship)
room, and the top half of the south end of the great room, as well as the north
end over the kitchen.
We
intended to frame the air vent into both the library and the men‘s room so we
could complete all the drywall work. We were holding up the progress of the
plumbers, and we were quite anxious to help them provide us with the needed
public accommodations. Of course, we did
not get it all done that weekend, but it proved a highly productive weekend. We
owed a huge debt of thanks to the men‘s ministry under the fruitful leadership
of Brother Bill Miller and the Michigan Kingdom Builders.
On
Monday morning, we hung the three crosses on the front of our building. Those
crosses enhanced the appearance of the facility very nicely--a gift to us. A
vast amount of taping and bedding still awaited our attention. Soon, it would
provide our very inexperienced hands some very respectable
experience--first-time exposure for some.
With
the plumbing came the burning of excess brush on the property, staining of the
windows, insulating classrooms, and dry walling the ladies room and nursery.
Now and again, someone brought in an additional plant for the yard. On this
occasion, Bob Kovac came in lugging two nice Yew shrubs. I planted a row of
Maples on the east side paralleling the property line, digging up summer
seedlings from my Battle Creek yard—today a lovely line of mature trees.
Help from the men at the Clare church, wrapped with grace
and cordiality, inspired our members, created good will, and resulted in warm
inter-congregational fellowship, while adding much to the pleasure of former
TR-pastors, Virgil and Mary Brinkman. They had moved from Three Rivers to
Clare, where they served until his retirement. Although Virgil died later, Mary
eventually wrote me in regard to our Centennial Celebration.
In
spite of considerable help, time stretched out over longer periods of dormancy
than I found comfortable. We “pressed” forward, always working to “complete
everything we felt essential” for that future day when some younger leader
would succeed me and lead the congregation into a future it has yet to
envision.
Before
conducting our final service at 508 Pearl Street, I hosted a Michiana
Small-Church Growth Conference. I invited Isham (Joe) Crane to serve as our
expert in residence, coming from our national Board of Home Missions and Church
Extension. I invited Michigan pastors Bob Chambers and Fred Davis to tell their
successful growth stories of their respective congregations at Millington and
Ypsilanti--one rural white, one urban black. And “tell their stories” they did!
Both men began small. Each pastor achieved the success I hoped to find in Three
Rivers. Because I wanted to inspire other pastors in circumstances similar to
ours, I mixed our hundred-year-old story into the recipe, and invited dear
Sister Myrtle Deans, pastor in Vandalia at the time, to lead us in worship.
Assisted
by our Lansing State Office Staff, I invited small-church pastors and
lay-leaders from around the Midwest for one overnight Friday-Saturday
Conference on May 10-11. Although the turnout proved disappointingly small: 16
conferees came from 14 congregations, ranging from Traverse City, MI. to
Shelbyville, IN. The Conference proved
authentic and experiential; it offered actual on-site conditions “in the
trenches, and under somewhat adverse conditions.” It proved practical,
positive, and persuasive, encouraging and probably preventing at least one
pastor from leaving his church.
Area
pastor Ron Lanthrop of Portage, MI. wrote later calling it “the best bargain
that I know of--to think one got a two day event for only
$10 plus a delicious meal! … You can feel rightfully proud for your burden and
vision to see the small church affirmed and challenged. I came away believing
more in myself and satisfied with God’s calling and placement of me.”
As
it then turned out, I preached my final sermon in the Pearl Street Chapel on
May 12 - a Mother’s Day Sermon on “Women in a Man’s World,” from I Peter 3.
Unnoticed by this writer until now is this bit of recorded information: our son
Scott preached the first service in the new facility on May, 19, 1985.
June
launched my seventh year in Three Rivers (35 years in ministry). I advertised
us as “Everyday people experiencing everyday religion.” Chuck “The Yank”
Schrader made guest appearances on radio WLKM after winning a couple of big pro-bass
tournaments. I officiated the Hochstetler-D’Angelo wedding on June 15. Tim and
Linda (my lovely hairdresser) were new to our church and excitedly anticipated
being the first wedding in our yet unfinished facility. In spite of our
primitive situation, it became a precious experience for two young people we
highly esteemed. Later, God touched Tim in his critical illness and we
celebrated his rapid surgical recovery from malignancy, convicted that God had
restored him following our visit to his Indianapolis hospital room.
Tommie
now accepted the ordination for ministry that she rejected as a sixteen-year-old
Oklahoma teenager. On June 16, 1985, after completing her three-year
credentialing process, Michigan recognized her ordination from God in an
afternoon service. At age 59, Tommie had faithfully served in ministry since
our marriage in February 1947. She began with our student ministries in
Oregon-Washington (1948-1951). She continued locally as we served congregations
from Arkansas to South Georgia, to California, and from Texas to Michigan, from
1951 through 1976.
William
A. (Bill) Miller represented Michigan Credentials. Sometimes mistaken as twins,
Bill and I had great fun over our similarities of stature and appearance that
occasionally confused people who asked, “Are you two brothers?” Myrtle Deans,
served as Tommie’s choice of preachers for this occasion.
Almost
immediately, I was off to Anderson with Scott Edwards in tow. This high
schooler, tented in the backyard on East Fifth Street, where our son Scott had
purchased and completely remodeled his own home. Scott Edwards had the
experience of his lifetime, attending his first “Anderson Camp Meeting”, and
enjoying his first exposure to national church life.
From
then on, I watched Scott prove himself as an outstanding young man. He was
first recognized as a leader at Three Rivers high school and as a member of the
varsity football Wildcat squad. Scott rose rapidly in leadership within our
Michigan Youth Fellowship and we vigorously supported him locally in launching
his first campaign for elected position. He quickly proved his merit, working
his way up the ladder and into the office of State Youth President; later, he
served on the National Youth Leadership Council. One of my ministerial peers
called Scott the best President Michigan youth ever had.
I
still enjoy telling people how I proved to be a prophet the day I announced to
our congregation “one day you will call this kid Dr. Scott Edwards.”
Later, I had much more reason to recall Scott’s outstanding years as an
excellent student and football player at Anderson University (AU), his
investment in graduate education at Ball State of Muncie, where he was awarded
his Doctor of Philosophy (Ph. D.) degree in Clinical Psychology.
Again,
I was blessed to participate in Scott’s wedding to Sobrina at North Anderson
Church of God (now Madison Heights), assisting Pastor Jim Lyons (now our
National Leader at Church of God Ministries). I still have what was most likely
Scott’s first published article, when he became a published author, on his way
to becoming an established professional with his own Counseling Practice.
Nothing, however, pleased me more than seeing Scott come full circle, as “Dr.
Scott Edwards”. He described his emotional journey at the 2010 district Camp
Meeting. I watched with great pride when Scott served as Warner Camp’s invited
Youth Director. I heard and saw firsthand his influence on some of our
district's finest forthcoming young leaders.
Amid
our local scurrying about, there came those Sundays when we guys stayed after
church, jumped into working clothes, and manually assisted Tim Graber blow that
“acoustical stuff” onto the ceiling of our Great Room. It had to be done before
Balkema Electric could complete their work. In turn, that allowed the hanging
of doors, and starting the installing-and-painting of necessary trim, and all
that detail work.
Of
course, that cornfield around us also needed frequent mowing. Thankfully, Larry
Mains, our good neighbor to the west (over behind the barrel fence), frequently
lightened our load by bringing his brush hog over, mowing the weeds and
cleaning the under-brush in and around the Walnut Trees out near the highway.
So many times; he did that! Gary Oberlander and his dad Harry (now deceased)
also provided much landscaping assistance, as did Vern Abnet. Vern was the
first to line our dirt parking lot with the telephone poles obtained for that
purpose.
Gary
attended church elsewhere for a long time, because of family considerations.
Later, however, he returned and has now actively integrated into the
congregation. It was, in fact, my great pleasure to work with Gary when he
became the sound technician, operating the sound system for me at the time I
conducted the Memorial Service for Sheran Ellard. Both Gary and Sheran were
treasured memories for me.
Late
in July ’85 Scott Warner became our bi-vocational Student Associate. Although
he lived in Anderson, attended AU, and worked at Gaither Studios, he commuted
weekends as our pastoral intern. He proved quite popular as a
preacher-expositor and stayed with us for three and one-half years. His
marriage eventually took him to Minnesota, which proved unfortunate. That
relocation cost him almost everything he had achieved up to that point in his
life. Once his young wife was home again in Minnesota with her mother, there
was no other consideration. It resulted in an eventual divorce and a mid-course
career change. Scott relinquished his ministry associations, much to my
heart-ache, and has since developed his own Christian witness while becoming
one of the most highly-trusted Ford Sales Representatives in the Twin Cities
Metro. On a recent day he spent his day fishing with one of his customers, a
brother to Paul Lund, a retired Illinois Church of God pastor.
I
had avoided promoting his call to ministry, although he does not remember it that
way; I wanted it to be his call, not mine, and anticipated him becoming an
educator. However, once he acknowledged his call to ministry; I was thrilled
and anxious to assist. Thus, it came as a deep disappointment when he no longer
felt worthy of pastoral ministry, because of the complications of his
divorce. When assured that he had his
family obligations covered with his boys; he started over. He left Gaither
Music and Christian Book Store sales and launched into auto sales at Towsley
Ford, Minnesota's largest Ford dealer at that time.
Scott’s investment in
his sons is paying off well; God has richly blessed him with his boys and I
applaud his integrity while affirming the splendid job he has done mentoring
two fine young men. Dakota Scott Warner (Kody) is currently serving as a
Worship and Youth Leader at one of the multiple campuses of Christ Community in
West Palm Beachy, following several years of interning at Substance Community,
a mega-church led by Bethel graduate Peter Haas. Austin James is a business
student at Northwestern Christian College, where the very young Dr. Billy
Graham served as President early in his career. Austin became a red-shirted
freshman, and varsity member of the Eagles football squad. He happily played
all ten games as his team won their share of the conference title with an 8-2
record--happy with his choice of Northwestern Christian College, after spending
a year at University of Minnesota Duluth. Austin’s second year saw him playing
with a team that was re-building and he spent his senior year as one of the
team captains.
Our
late summer Sunday-Night-Series of guest speakers featured former Interim
pastor, Parnell Alexander; Terry Larimore of Middlebury, IN, (planting a new
church in Angola, IN); and, former pastor, Wayne Halbleib, who supervised the
installation of our church roof.
Sunday
School Superintendent Linda Schrader announced at our Annual Business Meeting
that we were up 46%, and our seven classes were using Warner Press curricula,
this being another item I considered essential to our mission). Mary Molnar
informed us that our gross income of $35,855.15 had increased 241% over
1978-79. Believing we now had a sufficient pool of workers, we returned to our
traditional bi-laws, which allowed our Steering Committee to become the
Building Committee, tasked with overseeing facility completion. After serving
faithfully for eight and one-half years, Marge Ream resigned as Youth Leader,
years she found “very enriching and memorable.”
My
state of the church message called on the church to believe that what we could
conceive between us, we could achieve--together. I suggested that “what” we did
with what God had given us depended on “how” we visualized our needs, planned
our work, organized our abilities, and whether or not we committed ourselves to
God for this time and place in our congregational life. Space did not allow me to express the extent
of my appreciation to everyone I knew deserved remembrance, but I really wanted
them to know that so “very many” of them had my “deepest personal thanks for
many, many reasons this past year.”
There
were frustrating times for us; granted, but they were times when I felt
frustration for both with my own inadequate skills, and with the perceived
lethargy. I rejoiced knowing the congregation had progressed further than they
had ever been. We were further than we had ever been, but I felt the people
were too easily satisfied with where they were--still short of completing our
facility.
With
the Annual Business Meeting over, I headed north to Boyne City, MI, to
participate in the Small-Church Growth Conference sponsored by denominational
pastors and leaders of the upper regions of Michigan’s Lower Peninsula. I have
always loved our Church of God message, and appreciated its broad appeal. Being
in interdenominational circles always made me keenly aware of how little we
have done as a Movement to participate in, and enrich the message content of
the larger church.
Through
the years, I shaped the contours of our message within the following five
points. First of all, I needed it for my own clarification. Secondly, I believe
it has rich possibilities for communicating it into the contemporary needs of
our culture:
* A Personal God,
* A Divine Christ,
*
An Empowering Presence,
* A Visible Church,
* And a Disciplined
Fellowship.
Two
more of our youth left to obtain their secondary education. Kristine Edwards
headed for Anderson University and Joy Ellard enrolled at Mid-America Christian
University (MACU). Each went filled with the zeal of youth.
Congregationally,
we struggled. We felt the challenge of becoming part of the larger solution
rather than being part of the problem. We knew we lived in confused, chaotic,
and convulsing times. We watched people gasping for the breath of life and we
knew mere mouthing of time-worn clichés and pious platitudes would neither heal
nor communicate meaning.
It
requires a pure church to transform a dirty world; but, it also means getting
dirty. To disinfect sadness requires joyous faith. To re-capture an apathetic
world requires a church with more than mere conviction. Our sick and dying
society needed a virile and healthy church, unafraid of cancer, unaffected by
roadblocks, unflinching under criticism, and unmoved by persecution.
We
wanted to be a church of big dreamers, hard workers, desperate prayer warriors
and brave fighters. We yearned to storm the gates of evil and lethargy and
become part of the solution-- unwilling to compromise, ever ready to sacrifice, available to be inconvenienced.
November
1985 introduced a day of unforgettable change into my life, when I stood high
in the gable working from on a rented metal scaffold. I scarcely remember what
I was doing--perhaps taping and bedding. I needed to change the positioning of
the plywood on which I was standing. I foolishly tried to make the necessary
adjustments while still standing on the scaffold. Not only did I make a very
bad judgment on my part; I collapsed the entire scaffold and support system!
Suddenly,
I needed to jump, or risk entanglement in the collapsing metal pipes falling in
all directions. Risking possible impalement, I simply jumped off into space,
feet-first. Twenty feet down, my heels
struck the edge of the 2 x 6 platform, and that catapulted me out on the
concrete slab. Sheran and Mary, working elsewhere in the building, heard the
commotion and rushed in. They found me on the floor, allegedly unconscious.
Running (literally) for our neighbor, Larry Mains, they rushed me to the
hospital and treated me for shock and a shattered right heel.
It
is alleged that I greeted my Latvian doctor, Dr. Dimants, with this greeting:
“I didn’t want you cutting on my fingers again, so I brought you a foot this
time.” Our Newsletter later noted my
apology for tipping over the scaffold, scarring up the pulpit, and badly
scaring everybody. When able, I expressed my gratitude to Sheran, Mary, and
Larry for getting me to the hospital, to the second floor Nursing Staff for
their mostly fun-filled competency and caring, and to all for the many cards,
flowers and visits. The girls at Battle Creek Russ’s Restaurant sent me helium
gas balloons; and once I escaped the hospital, I spent that next week at Battle
Creek under Tommie’s tough scrutiny.
I
received phenomenal care from all, ranging from Linda H’s hair trim to Joanie
Barnhart’s ham dinner, which launched a whole series of planned meals. My
recovery required three months on crutches, and I spent additional time walking
on a soft caste, as well as receiving pastoral visits from Mother McCoo. Mix my
limited schedule of parsonage confinement with three months on crutches, add to
that the time I spent on the walking caste protecting my healing heal; add in a
wedding flight to Minneapolis via Detroit, and you find me restored following a
very nasty accident.
With
Tommie’s assistance; I completed the wedding in north Minneapolis, but more
than once I repented for frightening Mary so badly. She feared they “had killed
our pastor.” Three decades later I am happy to be alive. I complain because
they tell me I am three inches shorter, due to the spinal deterioration that
caused my double scoliosis. I walk with an occasional limp from the deformed
(gimpy) ankle and crooked spine, one leg being shorter than the other.
Otherwise,
I continued to pursue a very active 1986, before settling into the routine
involvement of another eleven years before retiring.
1986--87
By
this time, Tommie and I were finding ourselves stressed from the several years
of over-scheduled, constantly hop scotching between Battle Creek and Three
Rivers, always in overdrive. We sometimes wondered how much longer we could
maintain the pace. Occasionally feeling discouraged, I suggested that it seemed
to me some members chose to remain relatively “uninvolved while others acted and
reacted rather 'petty and picky' with each other, which made life hard to deal
with sometimes.”
On
occasion, I acted a bit out of character for me, and I came up with one of the
most audacious proposals I ever suggested. I challenged our small but growing
congregation for an Easter Miracle Sunday offering of $6,000. “Miracle
Sunday” brought 95 curious worshippers, made possible by Gladys Barnhart
importing her large “Easter Family”. By the time we stopped counting, we
actually oversubscribed our offering! Our heroic, all-out effort would be a
real Easter Miracle, 'IF' we made it. Nothing short of a miracle; we actually
raised just over $6,300!
While
doing this, we were completing our driveway entrance. This gave us safe, and
legal, entrée into the M-86 traffic flow. Chuck Schrader’s dedicated skills
made this achievement possible, after we worked through his offhand ways of
doing business without keeping records,” his angry feelings at our insistence
on being more business-like, and demanding compliance with the State Highway
requirements.
Our
lack of driveway compliance had produced a confrontation with Brad Cole at the
Highway Department. It took considerable re-negotiating outside of committee,
with both Brad and Chuck, but we found ways to comply with all necessary
demands, smooth ruffled feathers, while coping with additional costs.
Eventually, we had a proper driveway entrance, accompanied by the sidewalk
alongside the parking lot.
Mark
Kerr proved invaluable; he invested both knowledge and help as he accessed
heavy equipment for us. He provided property grading, upgraded our landscaping,
improved our drainage, and leveled our parking area.
The
big push from our Miracle Offering eventually caused a slump in building fund
offerings. Yet, Mary masterfully “kept us abreast, afloat, and current.” We
pressed forward with World Service giving (global missions), being only
slightly below average for the calendar year. When we found it necessary to
extend the terms of the Glad Tidings Land Contract (it being even more crucial
to them than to us), that only exacerbated our financial shortfall. We prayed
hard for them to get their money together, so that we could resolve our own
financial stresses.
About
this time, we welcomed Ruth and Matthew Mitchelen, Chase Atwood, the Lon Payne
family, and some others, but we lost charter member Kathryn Gregg in death, and
Nancy Wilcox. Brenda Engel, our Defiance, OH transplant, relocated to the new
GM plant in Fort Wayne, IN, which cost us an active member but assured her of
an ongoing job.
In
addition to ongoing services and nearly 800 pastoral calls, I accumulated
endless committee meetings, taught Sunday school, and conducted six-hours of
Sunday school training. I began the second term of my dozen years as Treasurer of
the Three Rivers Ministerial Association (TRMA). Eventually, I served several
years on the County Substance Abuse Council and completed two full terms (the
limit) on the Michigan Church Planting Task Force.
I
continued to serve as Chairman of the Warner Camp House Restoration Committee,
which culminated in bringing Mary Molnar aboard, with her interest and
expertise in renovation of historic homes. Everything came together when we
celebrated one hundred years of Camp Meeting at Grand Junction since 1892—our
Centennial. That same week, we dedicated the restored and upgraded home where
D. S. Warner died.
One
of the highlights of my pastoral career came in Three River one day in 1986.
That was the day I committed to Homer Yoder, our local Mennonite pastor and
cousin to Bill Miller, to “just listen” to a presentation by a friend of
Homer's. That friend turned out to be Jim Gascho, another Mennonite Pastor. Jim
was the Executive Director of St. Joseph County Victim Offender Reconciliation
Program, VORP, and pastor of Wasepi Mennonite Church.
His
presentation proved compelling. I found it “so Christian” that I felt compelled
to give my services, in spite of knowing I was already overloaded. I found the
offer irresistible and agreed to take a training program designed by Dr. Howard
Zehr. Dr. Zehr brought his plan to nearby Elkhart, IN, where it proved
remarkably successful, winning accolades from law enforcement people to
personal rehabilitation experts.
I
learned the theory behind the program and found new appreciation for issues of
rehabilitation, crime prevention, personal accountability and restitution. It
offered victim services, jail alternatives, and biblical solutions. Ultimately,
I learned about reconciliation, the benefits to victims and offenders, as well
as community. Most importantly, I saw this as a way of investing valuable time
in making a difference in people’s lives. I agreed to become a voluntary
caseworker, eventually serving on the Board of Directors.
My
agreement quickly involved me in meetings with victims and offenders, working
out plans of reconciliation. As the caseworker, I was accountable to the court
system, keeping accurate records and working through the Probation Officers. It
brought me into contact as a local pastor with a demographic of people I had
not frequently encountered.
My
VORP Handbook became my “Bible.” I became working friends with Probation
Officers, Paul Decker and Steve Wilson. Once out in the community, I worked as
a pastoral-volunteer, with mostly young, first time juvenile offenders. My task
was preventive--to keep them out of the criminal justice system and help them
turn their lives around (protect them from themselves).
Before
I retired, the State Criminal Justice System had changed their procedures and
replaced VORP. They created their own (new) County-operated Youth Facility in
Three Rivers and eliminated all constructive procedures of biblical restitution
and other conciliatory measures that so many victims and offenders found
helpful.
I
considered it a huge public loss when Jim Gascho closed his VORP Office for
lack of funding. We each continued with our church ministries and I maintained
an ongoing connection with the new youth Facility in Three Rivers, but
ethically, morally, and religiously, the loss of VORP proved nothing less than
a step-down (backward) from the moral and ethical toward the secular, if you
will.
September
was a typical month, meeting twice with the Warner Camp House Committee,
Lansing Church Planting Committee the next week, two days mowing the church
property the following week. The Annual Business Meeting, a morning at the
Ministerial Association, a Harvest Dinner at Vandalia, a CE Committee all added
to our ongoing activities, interspersed with weekly trips to Battle Creek.
I
thought this one of our better years numerically; we averaged 51 in Sunday
school, 61 in worship, and we were 70 Christians with yearly receipts totaling
$44,075.55 (our highest to date). Looking ahead to 1986, I searched for a fitting climax to what would soon become our
centennial year, when we would complete one-hundred years of congregational
life. Very few of our congregations had achieved Centennial status at that time
in our history.
“Celebrate
in ‘88,” pressed itself upon my mind as we forged ahead, in 1987--painting the
interior and finishing those odd jobs--niggling details. Workdays stretched
into work nights. The Saturday we finished painting the big room was one such
day. Arrel Jones led the way; Scott Warner joined in after driving from
Anderson. Several of us then pitched in, going well beyond the midnight hour,
but we completed that task!
When
Kathryn Gregg received her final summons from the Lord in February, she was our
last living charter member and we determined that we had done a very wise thing
by celebrating “Kathryn Gregg Day” a few years earlier. I attended the
Statewide Pornography Conference led by Dr. Paul Tanner of Anderson, IN. This
special emphasis across the church was one of a growing number of social needs
with which the church was slowly coming to grips. It is much clearer to me
today in my retirement years than it was then earlier, how my years in pastoral
ministry evolved into a completely new dimension of social awareness about
issues which I had been much less sensitive to in my younger years.
The
summer of eighty-seven saw me driving my Plymouth Volare to Wounded Knee Indian Mission in South
Dakota. Going alone, and at my own expense, I served as the Resident Missionary
in the absence of the resident family. My arrival freed them to leave for the
annual Indian Council in a nearby state. During that week, I met with the
regional governor and his ruling body; I visited around in the community, and
tried to make myself useful. Not sure how much I contributed, but it taught me
a completely new appreciation for the skills needed, and of the circumstantial
problems related to ministering in that difficult setting.
Following
my week among the Lakota Sioux, I prepared son Scott's licensing papers for
Michigan Credentials. That launched him into the three-year ordination process
and I anticipated mentoring him while he assisted me with church duties.
Charles
Shumate invited me to serve as a Conference Leader in Springfield, IL. This
resulted after “Chuck” experienced our transition in Three Rivers. They titled
my conference “The Small Church Can Grow.” I based it on my presentation at our
Three Rivers Conference, which I recorded in an earlier chapter.
On
returning home, I faced another typical month: 84 calls, 10 services, and 18
committee meetings, counseling sessions, and conferences. A visit with my aging
mother in South Haven permitted me to attend their revival with a friend from
my youth, Wade B. Jakeway. I grew up with Betty Harter [Jakeway] in childhood.
Her mother pastored our church when I was very young. I met Wade as a teen, and
he and I worked several revivals together across the country. This visit
resulted in Wade coming later to Three Rivers. Wade died in 2013, well into his
nineties.
The
Reverend Ruth Mitschelen began attending services after she moved to
Centreville, six miles east of Three Rivers. Ruth was widowed at Hope, MI, by
the death of her husband, Richard, where they served as co-pastors. This was a
return to her roots following a lengthy career in ministry. Ruth had left her
abusive home years before. She became an ordained minister, served as a “girl
evangelist” in the Church of the Nazarene, deep in southeast
Kentucky--Appalachia.
Later,
she met and married Richard and they co-served in Church of God ministry until
his death. This childless couple developed an extensive foster-parent ministry.
Forty-four children experienced their gracious and loving home, where they came
under the transforming powers of God’s gospel of grace and hope. Richard and
Ruth adopted thirteen of their most hopeless cases, and although it sometimes
seemed hopeless, this remarkable couple brought about the transformation of
numerous unproductive children. It was not without great personal cost, but
Ruth was full of grace and she and Richard provided them with security,
structure, unlimited love, and tools for at least a partially productive life,
maximized by great hope.
Accompanying
Ruth was Matthew, a victim of Downs Syndrome. In his teens, Matthew eventually
became one of our trusted Ushers and Church Greeters--well liked and very dependable.
From Ruth and Matthew we learned much about the possibilities of functionally
handicapped people. A short time later, following further unfortunate events,
Ruth’s daughter Hope arrived in Centreville. Hope was a young developmentally
challenged mother, and she came fleeing from an abusive young husband hooked on
drugs, following a marriage that never should have been. She came seeking her
mother’s guidance and our protection, following the failure of the Welfare
system.
With
Hope came a very young, strikingly beautiful, and equally brilliant little
girl; Talishia was the product of this unfortunate marriage. She adapted
quickly among us; almost immediately, the congregation adopted her. She became
everyone’s favorite, and until her death, we lavished our love upon Talishia.
We protected her identity, and that of her mother, keeping them hidden from
their abuser for several years. We enjoyed the splendid assistance of both the
Three Rivers and Centreville Police Departments, but when Talishia died, our
grief-stricken congregation needed time for healing. Her story is partially
repeated in another chapter.
Also
noteworthy was the 11-19-87 Memorial Service at Lansing’s Pennway Church of
God, for Dr. B. Gale Hetrick. I knew Dr. Hetrick as a Kalamazoo Pastor in my
teens. Later, Michigan elected him as State Minister for the Church of God of
Michigan. We rendezvoused with Gale in Houston, Texas when he made a guest
appearance at our State Ministers Assembly in the early sixties.
I
now regret that I did not always appreciate Gale in his position, as I should
have [another story]. Nonetheless, he proved to be both a great-hearted friend.
Driven by a grace-filled heart, he was always a strong supporter of the Three
Rivers Church and instrumental in my coming to Three Rivers in 1979. Gale's
premature death brought a great loss to our national church, our Michigan
Ministries, and to us locally.
-1988 -
89-
January
through December 1988 was our Centennial Year. We determined that our looking
back would be such as to renew us, so that we could move “Forward in Faith.” It
would bring our ninth Christmas and we would celebrate our renewing,
relocating, rebuilding, and continue our rediscovering.
Community
calling took me into the home of Mr. & Mrs. Joe Ritchey—new friends, a
delightful elderly black couple living on east River Road. They had once been
part of a sizeable contingent of black families on the east side of Three
Rivers dating back to the old vanguard of our neighboring Vandalia Church, as
organized by Dr. Raymond S. Jackson. “Joe” shared with me some of the Black
History of our earlier “TR” area.
One
of our longtime local members also lived nearby on River Road, Thelma
Patterson. Thelma, a proud, sensitive, and cultured black lady, had once worked
at the South Bend Studebaker Mansion.
Feeling our need for more “intentional” friendships in the black
community, I was anxious to overcome what I perceived as effects from the
long-lasting segregation so long practiced across our church. Like Lena Shofner
of earlier days, I wanted those barriers removed that kept worshippers roped
apart by color designations.
When
Dorothy Green followed husband Major into our local Hydramatic Plant, she came
to us deeply rooted in her all-black Arlington, Ohio Church of God under “Dad
Fowler”. Through Dorothy, we became acquainted with the Fowler children, Ron
and Cleo. Cleo was the mother of “Chucky,” (C.J.) whom our son Scott had known
at Anderson University. Today, C.J., now “Chuckie” is Dr. Charles Myrick, the
Executive Officer of the National Association of the Church of God at West
Middlesex, PA. He is also on staff at the Arlington Church of God in Akron,
Ohio, and a distinguished music producer with a credit on Broadway.
Major
Green, a former Navy Seal and New York police officer, held an influential job
in the training operations at General Motors. Major held “open door” access to
the office of GM CEO, Roger Smith at the time they came to Three Rivers,
whereas “Dot” had never attended a predominantly white church. Needless to say;
she wasn‘t totally comfortable when she visited our small predominantly-white
congregation the first time.
On
the other hand, Tommie and I had lived under the repression of the segregated
culture in our earlier years of ministry, in Deep South communities where it
was fiercely segregated. We had experienced the ethnic disparities in Texas,
where blacks and Hispanics competed for social and economic equality in a
predominant Anglo culture. Following that, we had lived within a harshly
enforced segregation deep in the southeast. In mid-south Mississippi, we
experienced the tragic and senseless beating of our friend, Church of God
minister J. Horace Germany. Our daughter had endured cruel verbal abuses during
the James Meredith episode at “Ole Miss” (it being no fault of hers that her
name was Meredith).
Without
question, we loved Major and “Dot”! However, I was also mindful of a little
known “incident” Parnell Alexander experienced while serving as Interim Pastor
before my arrival. Most of the congregation remained unaware, but I felt the
sting and felt compelled to work at creating a multi-ethnic atmosphere where
anyone and everyone could-and-would feel welcome--“at home.”
Giving
due credit where it is due, I thank Dr. Wilfred Jordan for helping me get a
better handle on this issue. This former editor of the Shining Light,
published from West Middlesex, PA was a talented black former-pastor who served
his time as window dressing for token integration in one of our national church
offices. Wilfred became my friend, and helped me as a white pastor, to become a
more fully rounded pastor in a multi-ethnic context. I love Wilfred, although
he scarcely knew me the last time I saw him at North American Convention (due
to that scourge that strikes so many seniors). I will be forever indebted to
Wilfred for his assistance and instruction, and for his and Wilma’s friendship,
as well as for all the articles he published for me in the Shining Light.
Kent and
Sue Bowden kicked off our Centennial year with a dramatic January 1988 Concert.
This talented couple brought a combined dramatic portrayal for Sunday school
followed by a musical presentation in the Worship Hour. Trained for
professional theatre, and holding graduate degrees in that area, they brought a
fresh mix of music, visual arts and dramatic technique, combined into concert
ministry.
February
saw us celebrating the lovely new in-lay linoleum in the church kitchen. As we
prepared to carpet the Worship Room, we were also recalling our need to build a
solid gravel base in our parking lot. We had been chagrined and mud-spattered a
couple weeks previous when Dorothy Green got her “Cad” stuck in the mud and we
had to call Major for help in getting her towed out. Fun … yes … but a muddy
mess! As of March 15 we held a clear deed and now owned nine acres rather than
seven. Later in the summer, Graeber Construction established a firm base in the
parking lot, resolving that problem—no more getting stuck.
Early
March challenged me with one of those interesting experiences pastors
occasionally face; Lou Anna Lublow requested a home baptism. This Christian
lady was a longtime Christian of another denomination, and a friend of Gladys
Barnhart. Although we practice baptism by immersion, Lou Anna determined that
she desired baptism in a renewed commitment to Christ. I had visited her on
numerous occasions knowing health complications confined her to her home. After studying the matter, I compromised with
her housebound situation and baptized her by sprinkling, at her residence on
southeast M-86, convinced that we had met a personal need.
Our
June graduates included Scott Edwards, Teresa Smith, Sheran Gearhart, and Kim
Large. That youth group saw Dawn Bishop as a senior at TRHS, Scott Edwards an
“AU” freshman, and Chris Edwards receiving her Bachelor’s degree at “AU.”
Sheran Ellard moved to Schoolcraft and Harold Henline gave invaluable service
throughout the summer keeping the yards
mowed. Mother McCoo spent June 26 in Vandalia, where her former congregation
celebrated “Roberta McCoo Day” - a fitting tribute.
With
July, I began a new two-year term on the Planning and Development Committee at
Warner Camp. The “Party Line” newsletter of that period notes our
receipt of an Italian Blue Pine from Gladys Barnhart. I found it recorded in my
old “new tree register,” which seemed such a good idea when I started it. It never became permanent, but it told me
when Dennis Smith donated 200 Evergreen seedlings in 1985, and our youth
planted them along our west property line. Only sixty were still alive by May
1988, partly because more than a few became mowing casualties when someone
(whose name I will not mention—not mine) did not see them from the riding mower
(J).
I
had also planted two rows of Maple seedlings adjacent to our East property
line, ten per row, the year before. I filled my Volare from time to time with
five-gallon buckets of water from the parsonage, before we had well service,
and I drove car loads of buckets to the church, filled with water that would
keep our trees alive during the dry times, until established. Two donated
double bloom flowering Peach trees went in front of the church, just below the crosses--later
froze.
The
Blue Italian Pine Gladys donated also died a few months later, but we kept
trying. The dwarf Jonathan Apple tree that replaced the old Cherry tree at the
parsonage died during 1988. Additional Colorado blue spruce trees went into the
south end of the west tree line in October. Another ten Spruce went in along
the West side in November. After removal of any dead trees, we still counted
sixty-two trees in our former cornfield.
In
addition, I added a four-foot Red Bud tree on the north end of the Maples on
the east side. Rose Henline donated it from their property, which also included
a Redbud behind the parsonage--later died. By 1992, the Tree Register was a
forgotten item--until now. Years later, should anyone wonder, you can tell them
this story.
Linda
Schrader had now moved to Schoolcraft and Doug was helping the Eagles football
team fly into the Pontiac Dome for a State Title. John McClimans spent a week
in Anderson helping Scott Warner finish his remodeling job on the house he was
selling, before relocating to Minnesota.
We
painted the parsonage in September and hired Fred, one of Tommie's contractor
friends, to complete our Kitchen counter-tops and build-in the sink areas to
original specifications in both restrooms and Nursery. This included a nice
changing table for the Nursery. Fred Coppen was one of the better independent
cabinet men in the region and subcontracted to Vanderhorst Chicken Coops.
Tommie
knew Fred well, highly recommended him highly, and he completed the great work
done earlier when Roy Krontz, from North Avenue Battle Creek, built our kitchen
cabinets. Now that we attend North Avenue church with Roy and Norma Krontz, I
can say few lay people are more dedicated than Roy and Norma. Christ made a
huge difference in this man we first met in the early seventies.
In
September, we found it necessary to foreclose on Allen Bell who had purchased
the small house at 1107 S. Main. Allen’s father resolved that with us.
Meantime, we completed the unpainted hall, painted and papered both restrooms,
and tidied them very nicely. An anonymous contributor donated $500 and we
installed a new water softener, paid in full.
We
custom ordered a new three-piece Altar-Communion railing, to be completed as
soon as possible. On February 5 1989, we dedicated the newly completed
Altar-Communion rails--hand-crafted by Mennonite Pastor, Jim Carpenter, soon to
be the new church planter in Anchorage, Alaska. Costing just over $1100.00, the
three pieces held 325 communion cups and featured comfortable, well-padded
kneeling, while also serving as attractive church furniture.
The
attendance of forty-two of the Jenkins’ clan made that day a day of great
significance. The three pieces of altar furniture serve as a Memorial to former
pastor James Jenkins, father, grandfather, and great grandfather of many
present that day. The Jenkins’ roots go far back in this congregation and the
present family truly blessed our day. For me, one of the highlights came in the
morning worship, when Chief of Police, Harry Jenkins, of Elk Grove, IL added
his own “further recollections” as the baby of that early pastoral family.
The
initial financial gift came via Myrtle and her siblings, children of James, who
died January 9, 1925 while serving with Raymond Jackson. The congregation later
made up a $350 shortfall to complete the project. Chapter 8 adds further
details from the Jenkins’ era.
Our
three-way Maundy Thursday service with First Church of the Nazarene and Corey
Lake Nazarene reminded us once more of our heritage of holiness and unity. It
prepared us for Easter and served as something we thought we needed to repeat.
Our own Easter Sunrise Service brought forty two for a meditation by Linda
Schrader, after which the youth served hotcakes and sausage for breakfast. For morning
worship, I led one hundred worshippers in taking a new look at Jesus from
Hebrews 1:1-4.
On
June 4, I launched our eleventh year in Three Rivers with a Service of
Dedication that included Talishia Melton. Hope later mailed Tommie and me a
specially made card expressing Hope’s thanks for our “love, prayers, and
concerns” … and “for dedicating Talishia.”
Talishia was beyond the usual age when we dedicate children, but this
was especially important to Hope, as she expressed it, “to finally be able to get
her dedicated. May our Lord bless you.”
Later,
when I learned of Frances Campbell’s presence in our local River Forest Manor,
I found an elderly saint I had met as a vibrant and much younger woman. In my
student days, she once gave me a ride from South Haven back to Anderson College
in that first summer of 1945. Her father had been a pioneer Church of God
preacher in Canada and she had lived many of her years in southwest Michigan.
While
Tommie recuperated from smoke allergies related to neighborhood burning of late
Autumn leaves, we begrudgingly accepted Scott and Nadine‘s departure and sent
them on their way to Walnut Grove, Minnesota.
Will
and Patsy Kline represented Brazilian Missions at our November Harvest Dinner
and we closed out the year visiting our daughter Meredith in Kentucky. She had
extensive reconstructive facial surgery, and repair of broken bones, after
surviving a broadside collision that critically injured her when she absorbed
the impact, as a passenger riding with her husband, a local police officer.
Ruth
Mitschelen and John McClimans covered my absence. As we sent out our tenth
Christmas greeting to the congregation, Mikhail Gorbechev was quickly exiting
New York City. He returned to a very troubled Moscow that only accented the
suffering of our whole world in spite of it being the Christmas season.
The
arrival of my new Yearbook (89 Yearbook arrived in 1-90) showed us
ministering to some 210 constituents, with 65 Christians calling us their
church family. Our indebtedness stood at $70,000, but our assets had increased
to $250,000.
_______________
CHAPTER
TWENTY - On To the Goal…
Turning
thy face from all the past,
On
to the goal keep pressing;
All
of the weights from off thee cast,
On
to the goal keep pressing.
See
in the distance there arise
Glorious
mansions in the skies,
Waiting
for thee—a wondrous prize--
On
to the goal keep pressing.
_____
...On
to the goal keep pressing.
Charles W. Naylor and
Andrew L. Byers,
Worship
the Lord, p. 688
1990--91-
By
this time, we had become a food distribution center, working with the Community
Food Bank. This was a completely new venture for us. While 1989-90 found us
barely eking out a financial existence, a February gift of $1,000 caught up the
arrears on my salary, but left no margin for bill paying. We lost (Mother) Roberta
McCoo and Doug Losik in death. Several families experienced job-relocations. Other
issues further complicated an already difficult year as we struggled in every
department. Nonetheless, we continued to climb--ever re-grouping.
We
saluted the venerable Elsie Hackler as woman of the year. Everyone found a
satisfying sense of achievement when we laid the blue carpet in our Worship Center
and all-purpose Great Room. That set us back $3,200, but we still managed
earnest money to pay down on the 58.5-acre parcel still retained by Paul
Cripes. When he approached us regarding purchasing this remaining acreage, we
were definitely interested. He died, however, that same week that we voted to
make the purchase. Although we had not completed negotiations, we were able to
re-negotiate with Paul’s Estate and did complete the deal.
In
acquiring the full sixty-six acres, we accepted it as a blessing from God, but
I do not believe the congregation has yet any comprehension of the
possibilities, even at I write today. We deliberated on the possible
acquisition in July 1989 and quickly approved the purchase by a 21-5 vote. On
July 17th, I mailed out a congregational letter affirming our
purchase but also admitting to the congregation “nothing we have done together
in the past ten years has given me as much pause for meditation as what we did
yesterday morning ...”
I
commended the five minority voters because they were not alone. I supported the
purchase, but I did so with jaundiced reservations of my own. After all, we
were keeping that acreage off the tax rolls and it was up to us to properly
develop it for the use of the church. I did express my appreciation to the
congregation for being willing to “give God a chance to stretch you beyond what
you now see in yourself as a congregation.”
I definitely believed it was in the best interest of the congregation, and
I also knew we were tightly united in both “our worship and our walk.” I knew
then, even as I know now, the land provided an excellent opportunity - still
not yet fully comprehended after this many years. It offered an inspiring
opportunity, but it was weighted with an awesome stewardship responsibility. My
prayer then was, and is as I write years later, that the leadership will eventually
sense the need to “develop fully what God has given them.” If they languish
without a dream, they should do the right thing by returning the property to
the tax rolls, release it for commercial development, and invest their efforts
elsewhere in missions.
Early
Sunday morning, the final Sunday of 1990, a phone call forever changed my life.
The caller informed me my father had just expired! Dad was recovering from
surgery at the hospital in St. Joseph, and we expected him to return home soon.
Somehow ... unexplained … unexpected; complications developed. He was gone
before any of us could be present. At mother’s insistence, I conducted dad’s
Memorial Service. There, in the familiar environs of the little church that had
nurtured me in my adolescent years, we remembered Dad on Sunday afternoon
January 6, 1991. Although I had conducted numerous funerals from coast to
coast, this experience charted new territory for me.
That
New Year--1991--found us busily engaged in fleeing from the confinement of our
former facilities on that narrow strip of dirt beside the railroad tracks. Like
Israel en route to Canaan, we stood at Kadesh, looking over into the Promised
Land. We were a century-old congregation; we were also confronted with
nine-foot giants. The choice was ours: we could challenge the giants, and
possess Canaan; or, we could wander in the wilderness of lost opportunities for
several more decades.
Overcoming
those giants would mean discovering new loyalties, developing new tithing
families, supporting new programs, and encouraging new participants. Wilderness
wandering would mean further repetition of a familiar past. Facing the giants would
mean risking, trusting, and committing--seldom easy issues. We could stay
comfortable. We could avoid the issues, but I envisioned a five-year program of
improving and maintaining our facilities, establishing a [new] pastor’s package based on a full-time reality, and improved
parsonage quarters.
Regionally,
I preached at our area Unity Service and in Ontario, Canada, while devoting
considerable time providing many weeks of daily meditations on local WLKM Radio.
I took advantage of this free opportunity as often as possible, while also
writing at every opportunity for the local newspaper, lifting our name before
the community at every opportunity. I continued my involvement with Michigan
Church Planting Task Force, the County Substance Abuse Council and Forum, as
well as Warner Memorial Camp.
Within
the congregation, I accompanied Ruth Mitschelen to Joliet, IL where we visited
her adopted son Paul, serving a long sentence as a convicted murderer.
Rendezvousing with Joliet pastor, Lewis Kujawski, we journeyed deep into the
recesses of that maximum-security prison and visited at length with a very
responsive Paul. I continued conversations and correspondence with him for a
number of years, even after I left the church. He recommitted his life to
Christ and finally obtained release as a free man. The last contact I had with
Paul, he had relocated to Texas to live with his biological mother. At that
time, he had visited the Parkgate church on Tynemouth Drive in the Houston
suburb of Pasadena. I had numerous email conversations with Pastor Jim Feirtag,
hoping and praying for the best.
Mary
Molnar resigned as Church Treasurer effective July, 18, 1991. She managed our
business affairs for seventeen years and kept records with the efficiency of a
competent bookkeeper, keeping records as one should keep records. She protected
the church through some very difficult times, just as if it were her own money
and life that were at stake. Not everyone understood, or appreciated, her
efforts, and some even dared offer unkind criticism on occasion. Admittedly,
Mary could be intimidating, even difficult to deal. Sometimes her manners made
my work more difficult. I tolerated it, first of all because I knew Mary’s
tender side; also, because I knew there was no other way open to me for
accomplishing some of the things we needed done. True enough; she had the
toughness of a rhino hide, but she did her job with competency and sterling
character!
Beyond
Mary herself, the ladies of this congregation, among whom she was a dominant
force, deserved a huge credit! If anyone deserves singular recognition for
the current existence of the Church of God in Three Rivers, I offer that
tribute to Mary Molnar – for her grit, her gumption, and her gifts.
Throughout
1991, the ladies met monthly—all 21 paying members. They averaged ten per meeting
and established a budget of $4,334.40, while raising $4,618.16. Six of their
number participated faithfully in Church Women United (CWU), seven attended the
State Missions Convention, and three participated in our International
Convention. They rallied with, and hosted, the ladies of southwest Michigan,
distributed commodities, made up Christmas baskets, and purchased a dishwasher
for the kitchen, while leading the all-church Christ Birthday Offering. Across
the Movement, the WCG has lost much of its institutional value. It has since
transitioned into Christian Women’s Connection, but here is one pastor that
could not have made it without the stalwart sorority of the WCG (I salute our
“WCG” Sisters!).
During
this year, I had also hoped to launch several “GROWTH Groups”. I fully
intended to further transition into a small-group ministry that would make good
use of
God
Redeeming
Our
Worth
Through
Himself.
This acrostic was original, heartwarming,
and theologically of the essence. We pursued the idea for a while, but
eventually gave up on expanding our groups.
During
September, we called on Jack Eitlebus our neighbor pastor at Colon and former
Houston, Texas Christian School Administrator, to come and conduct a series of
five illustrated Bible Lectures from the book of Philippians. This provided us an excellent biblical study
and Jack came well prepared.
At
the end of the month, I participated in a pulpit exchange arranged by our State
Office in Lansing. I agreed to host Pastor Ruth Ann Paul of Centreville,
Ontario, Canada. Ruth Ann came to Three Rivers, bringing her husband Ron, a
prison guard at Ontario’s Kingston Prison. Ruth Ann proved gifted and highly
appealing, although she came from a small, somewhat isolated new church plant.
We
took them to the Mennohof at Shipshewana, Indiana, where we spent one full day.
Ron and I reviewed Anabaptist history and examined the splendid reproduction of
Anabaptist life from the Radical Reformation (also known historically as the
Third Reformation). Ron‘s family lineage traced back to that part of France and
Germany known as Alsace. France and Germany had long disputed over this very
tiny, but important kingdom. Since Ron’s family came from there, it thrilled
him to spend that afternoon tracing the history and reading the documents
contained therein. We enjoyed our fun-filled and educational day to the
maximum.
Our visit
to Canada proved equally stimulating. The Paul family hosted us with grace and
gusto. A graduate of Alberta Bible Institute at Camrose, Ruth Ann showed
herself to be a highly gifted communicator, especially good in drama. She
preached very effectively when with us, when we found them at home in their
very rural setting northeast of Toronto, we discovered a highly talented family
with some very bright children. She had planted a small-town church at
Centreville as an outgrowth of a Christian drama group she founded. They kept
us in their home, showed us throughout their region, and we met her rather
unique congregation.
This
exchange came through the efforts of Bill Miller, working at our Service
Center. It was a cooperative Michigan-Ontario venture, calculated to strengthen
our Ontario churches. Working as a liaison between Michigan and Ontario, Bill
traveled back and forth. On several occasions, I traveled with him to
Thamesford Camp Meeting, which I experienced as educational and inspirational.
I made new friends, saw new places, and learned much about our Ontario work.
That area enchanted me, and I fully believed it benefited Michigan, while also
affirming and strengthening the weaker Ontario district. I would have preferred
that the relationship continued, even after our friend, the retired Art Krueger,
assumed the role of District Administrator.
In
working with local Community Services in Three Rivers, I occasionally enlisted
assistance from the young men at the Youth Center, most usually one at a time.
These troubled young men were in difficulty with the law. Most of them were
first-time offenders and had court sentences for “community service or jail.”
We provided the occasional labor and they furnished me laborers; I befriended
the men as best I could and they helped me greatly. This made it a win-win
situation for both of us.
The
year ended with a Marshall Lawrence concert, just one of the numerous times
Marshall blessed us with his varied musical skills.
-1992-
Tom
McCracken arrived from Brazil early in March 1992. Although accustomed to
hosting missionaries regularly, I found Tom an especially intuitive and
charismatic missionary. Highly skilled, he and Jean remain well regarded in
their retirement years. At this late date, they still serve periodically in
their familiar Brazilian environment.
In
late May, I passed my sixty-fifth birthday, still walking three to four miles
several times a week, but seldom more than twenty or twenty-five miles. I
walked many a mile on the former railroad spur bordering the north side of the
church property, and I believe that has contributed heavily to my good health
even as I write. Tommie and I wondered just how long we might continue, having already
served fourteen years. Truthfully, I saw no reason not to continue for several
more years.
On
this issue, I was heavily influenced by several older examples, one of whom I
described in my 1992 Christmas letter as “Bro. B.” We had known “Bro. B” since
1947, when I was a young Texas Airman in San Antonio. He was our pastor when we
first learned about Tommie‘s cancer at age twenty. Although retired from
pastoral ministry he continued his activity and I kept his business card stuck
in my bathroom mirror at the “TR” parsonage. That card said “50 years in
Ministry,” with 50 crossed out and 65 scribbled in. He still drove 130
miles round-trip weekly, preaching to a small congregation that could no longer
afford a pastor. “Bro. B” had become one of my heroes.
Tommie
retired mid-1992, after seventeen years with the DeNooyer-Vanderhorst companies
of West Michigan. She went to work when a job literally fell into her lap while
helping her friend Betty. That met a unique financial need for us at a
particularly difficult time, and she felt God's hand in it. She stayed with
that employer, young Arthur DeNooyer, until he sold her to Jim Vander horst,
conditionally, and without telling her at the time. The sale proved beneficial
to her, however, and she agreeably stayed with the Vanderhorst organization,
leaving her former job as bookkeeper-trainer-store manager.
She
now became Vanderhorst’s local manager, and district-wide manager-trainer. She
developed a splendid trade on Battle Creek’s west side, especially within the
African-American community. By the time she retired, she was providing
“people-serving ministry” to multi-leveled tiers of society that ranged from
bankers, pimps, professionals, and police, to an unbelievable cadre of
otherwise unknown people across southwest Michigan, including many area-wide
drug enforcement people and domestic abuse personnel.
Her
experiences included [1] giving testimony that guaranteed life in Jackson
Penitentiary without parole to a child molester that almost killed one of our
Sunday school children from our previous congregation, leaving her in a
six-week coma. [2] Annual contacts repeated over several years of feeding and
becoming personally acquainted with several Air Force Thunderbird teams,
quality young men with whom she became personally acquainted.
Years
later, she still regales me with her stories, most of which will never be
recorded in a book, fortunately or otherwise. Many of the events, or perhaps
most of them, would never have taken place within the ordinary channels of
institutional church ministry. A few
negative souls insisted that she worked for the pure pleasure of it, and would
not quit if she could, which was unfortunate, unfairly biased, and cruel. The
rest of her story, however, comes in the toll it wreaked upon her body, forcing
her eventual retirement at age sixty-seven, leaving her with critical health
problems that confine her to a very fragile contemporary existence, leaving me
as her caregiver for the past eight years.
The
church Treasurer's July financial statement showed the checking account closed;
she used it for keeping our land contract payments current [the additional land
beyond our mortgage]. Since she no longer received sufficient funds for
deposit, from this time on all payments would be made through the regular
checking account. Looking back, I marvel at the accomplishments of our
blue-collar work-a-day congregation. We remained committed to excellence; and
one statement we often repeated, confirmed our belief that “Anything worth
doing is worth doing well.”
By
the end of July, we had joined our Warner Camp Family in celebrating the 1992
centennial of Warner Memorial Camp. Mary and I had each invested several years
of work with the Warner House Restoration Committee (The old house held
together until 2015 when it was finally burned as part of a training exercise
for area volunteer Fire Departments). Others of the congregation assisted in
numerous other tasks and fifty-two of us attended this centennial camp meeting,
with its special celebration. This was the next highest number we ever involved
in a single year and I feel sure it exceeded anything Sebastian Michels and the
original purchasers of that property ever imagined.
Our
Annual Business Session caught us in September envisioning a congregation of
three-to-five-hundred congregants, considering additional ways to restructure
our governing body. We wanted to re-organize under one general Board of
Directors and utilize the gifts of multiple lay leaders tasked in different
areas of responsibility. We hoped this would coordinate our work more
efficiently and make better use of people’s natural gifts.
As
part of our proposed five-year plan (1992-1997), I suggested we re-arrange and
refurbish the parsonage. Tommie’s retirement in mid-92 meant rearranging the
office space and retiring the bachelor quarters I established when I moved into
the house by myself. Needing to make room for Tommie, we redecorated the house,
relocated my library from the Living Room (upstairs office space), installed a
utility room in the basement, and renovated the kitchen. It proved labor
intensive: scraping wallpaper and painting, compounded with numerous other
repairs. Mary and Steve led that renovation, helpfully assisted by a few
others. When eventually completed, it richly blessed the congregation because
it greatly enhanced the eventual sale of the property.
Developing
an incremental pastoral care program proved more challenging than we
envisioned. I studied our future with a two-fold purpose: 1) increasing my
salary incrementally--to a low-level of full-time equivalency by 1997; and 2),
intending to make the church more attractive for whoever succeeded me. As it
turned out, this fell by the wayside like wasted seed and the people followed
the line of least resistance. Following their custom, the congregation
eventually prevailed on John McClimans to succeed me as Senior Pastor, while he
kept his job at the LaGrange, IN hospital. The church still meanders without
real direction, and upon John’s retirement the church will once again face this
perennial problem that I long sought to correct.
Meanwhile,
we deliberated on how to use our newly purchased acreage. We had no “need” of sixty-six
acres. Mary and I, however, saw tremendous potential for servicing numerous
ministries and area program needs. Suggestions included a Senior Citizens
complex, a picnic shelter and sports complex for games and all kinds of groups.
Other suggestions included a wooded grove, walking trails, an adult care
facility or Daycare Center or Nursery School, camping facilities, even an
amphitheater for summer Vesper Services. Some wanted a new and larger sign,
improved landscaping, or possible sale of several home- sites with a
limited-access road.
Were
we merely dreamers? Were these simply ideas from an out-of- touch minority?
While questions like these tested our minds, we faced ongoing real-life issues
of personal tragedy. Walter and Marge Strong, longtime members, were passengers
in a fatal vehicle accident in Elkhart, IN., September 18. Marge died in the
accident. I last visited Walter the afternoon of the 21st, reading
parts of Psalm 46 and 103 before praying together. He died later that evening.
We buried Marge the following day--22nd and Walter the 24th.
My
years of involvement with the Michigan Church Planting Task Force terminated in
November, having fulfilled my allotted two-term limit. Before leaving that
work, I edited Pastor David Burnett’s booklet on Bi-vocational Ministry, which
the State Office then published and made available at the Service Center (It
may yet be available). Dave was a successful bi-vocational pastor-prison
chaplain in Huron County. He produced a fine piece of work that needed a little
editing, tightening, and re-structuring, and I felt privileged to become part
of that project.
We
did not celebrate our “88-Centennial” quite as I had hoped earlier, but our
“Sunday Celebration” folder for November 15, 1992 announced a day of Remembering,
Rejoicing and Rededicating.
We
began our day with our 7:00 o’clock Christian Brotherhood Hour [CBH] radio
broadcast, followed by a 9:00 o’clock coffee-n-conversation. Worshippers
gathered at 10:00 o’clock, where Craig’s Male Chorus amplified our joyous
singing with his rousing rendition of “Just a little talk with Jesus.” Don Gray added words of testimony, while
others “remembered and rejoiced.” My sermon lifted up “A Prayer That Our New
Facility Fulfill the Purpose for Which it was Built,” - I Kings 8.
Following
the benediction, we used the time to set up tables and chairs for dinner,
followed by the 2:30 Dedication Service. Guests included Doris Morgan,
Grant Chapel AME Pastor; Derl Keefer, Pastor, First Church of the
Nazarene; Roland Barkow, Pastor, St. Peter’s Lutheran Church; the
honorable Kathy Geiber, Mayor; former Interim Pastor, Parnell Alexander,
Associate Pastor, John McClimans, and Worship Minister, Craig Stace. I served as host. The Mayor, the Ministerial
Association, the Church of God in Michigan, and former pastors all extended
their greetings.
The
gracious and warm service laced heritage hymns with “Footnotes to History.”
Doris Morgan and John McClimans lifted us up in their prayers while Craig’s
Male Chorus sang “O, What a Wonderful Savior.” The day’s Scripture came from II
Chronicles 6:1-2, 18-21, and 7:1-4. Guest preacher, Jack Eitlebus then
wonderfully described “When Faith Becomes Sight.” This truly memorable day
celebrated what we had achieved from the beginning until now.
We
concluded our year with a Christmas Celebration that included a well-attended
Community Christmas Band Concert by Gray‘s Band--great local favorites!
1993--94
My annual
report of 1993-94 reported that I conducted 60 services and made some 1200
calls-contacts-hospital visits, beyond other office activities. I attended 37
ministers meetings of various kinds and 105 committees--conferences--counseling
sessions. During that time, I conducted six weddings--one funeral--and drove a
low mileage of 9,731 miles.
The
rapid deterioration of thirty-three year-old Mark Mitchelen called for a fast
trip to Indianapolis. Mark, who worked in “Indy.”, died suddenly, following the
rapid advance of a malignant brain tumor. Ruth Mitchelen’s bright young adopted
Korean son had become a very fine Christian young man and his death brought deep
grief to Ruth. During this time, Indy Pastor Richard Elsbury proved of
invaluable assistance. Mark remembered his mother by providing the church a new
television and VCR with the settling of his estate.
The
year brought several tough transitions, especially financially; yet potential
indicators pointed toward one of our better years. We upgraded the sound system
while surviving the financial vacuum created by Tommie’s retirement. We felt
somewhat “controlled” by property costs, but we had our mortgage paid down to
just over $50,000.
A
family crisis in Texas kept Tommie in Houston for several months nursing her
sister back to health. By May, she found that she could finally return home and
fifteen delegates from the church surprised her at Kalamazoo International
Airport. Food and fellowship at the nearby Bill Knapp's restaurant followed her
arrival. That same month, we hosted our friends Fred and Evelyn Mamaloff,
Missionaries from Anchorage, Alaska. This was also the summer Ray Replogle did
such a nice job maintaining our slowly improving churchyard.
By
this time, Craig Stace and Susan had become deeply involved in Craig’s music
ministry. He and I coordinated our efforts and brought in the popular Cecil
Blackwood Singers of Nashville fame. Tommie and I had followed James Blackwood
for many years. They were part of the Quartet Movement and Southern Gospel
genre and we knew that at various times cousin Cecil had sung with James. When
Cecil sent us an offer, we naturally accepted his “Singers,” who proved to be a
variation of the original Blackwood’s.
However,
we were not pleased with their financial pitching. They sang and entertained a
standing-room-only crowd of over 300, becoming our largest ever crowd
producer—literally “packed out!”
However, we would not recommend repeating them, among other reasons,
because of their lengthy and emotional financial appeals.
John
McClimans, Scott Warner, and Craig continued to lend variation to our pulpit
ministry. Highlights ranged from a video
service, a Marshall Lawrence concert, guest speakers (World Service--Pete
Clutter) and the Gideon Bible Society. Scott preached a series of “Pastor’s
Anniversary Services” and Craig concluded the year with a greatly enjoyed
Christmas-choral drama.
We
regretted seeing John and Esther Bishop relocate to Tennessee. We were
delighted John had a job, but we were sorry to lose Esther on the Organ. She
and Myrtle had been a piano and organ team for more years than most of us knew.
We felt even greater loss at the end of the 1994 year, when Craig resigned and
he and Susan moved on.
We
felt we were on the upward climb, but the year had been busy, although
significant. We watched with sadness as the Schnepp’s departed for Grand
Rapids. Our church income passed $40,000 for the second time in our history,
although other numbers were off. Two
successful fish-fry fund-raisers supplemented our special funds. Meanwhile, the
County Prosecutor’s Office collected “restitution” on the multiple vandalism and
break-ins we experienced.
Our
1994 special Easter Fund enabled us to asphalt a ninety by sixty foot section
of our parking lot. That left us still needing an additional $5,000 to complete
the project to the west, and down the driveway to the highway.
Danny
and Darren Cole sought permission and installed a basketball backboard and hoop
at the north end of the parking lot in July. The Schnepps’ had previously
donated portable posts that provided volleyball and tennis recreation. The lawn
posed a continuing challenge, so we obtained three tow-behind reel-type mowers
to pull behind the tractor, while purchasing a copy machine for the church
office.
The
Board made space for a weekly men’s Bible Study, and Virgil and I actively
supported this effort, along with a community “AA” meeting; both community
events with limited attendance.
-1995-
The
January Van Scoick-Wood wedding stirred considerable animosity for me
personally. I married the young people upon their request for my services. They
further requested my confidentiality, which I freely granted. They were both of
age and I treated them as the young adults they were. However, by the time the
family learned of the event, I found myself facing an angry family, buzzing
like an invaded bee hive. They charged me with knowing of it and keeping it
from them – exhibiting irrational behaviors that angry and manipulative people
sometimes exhibit...!
Our
Battle Creek house survived a January forced entry (B&E). Some neighborhood
kids kicked in the back door and gained entry to see what they could steal.
Fortunately, it was the only such experience during the five and one half years
we left the house unoccupied while staying in the TR-parsonage. We kept the
house during those years, locking it up and leaving it vacant. This harrowing
invasion of personal privacy brought us much insecurity and cost us our
television set and numerous other household items that young thieves could
quickly convert to cash. It proved unsettling, although we recovered our losses
through our home insurance.
In
March, Ethel Bailey died at a Potluck dinner. Having finished eating she
suggested, “I think I ate too much” and slumped over in her chair. She was dead
on arrival at the hospital. I had buried George earlier following a self-inflicted
gun wound and I grieved in losing these good people--my good neighbors. We
“neighbored” across the alley, behind the parsonage. They had attended the
church some years prior to my arrival, but had stopped attending in one of
those unfortunate dissensions. When I occupied the parsonage, George and I
began across-the-alley conversations about his great gardens. This resulted in
a renewed friendship and I greatly valued these kind people.
Meanwhile,
April showers blessed us with a special $1500.00 donation to our Parking Lot
Fund from Carol Alfoldi--very timely (the Bailey‘s daughter and husband)!
People
pitched in like Beavers and conducted another successful May Fish Fry. This one
served 300 happy customers and resulted in one of our better such efforts.
Early
in June, I led special guests on a tour of southwest Michigan. I was accompanied
by Mr. & Mrs. Jim Bamford of
Northern California, (Jim was a saw-mill owner-operator just like his great
grandpa Michels). We toured the Grand Junction-South Haven area close up,
reviewing the history of Jim’s great granddad Sebastian Michels, the man that
constructed the original buildings at Warner Camp with the aid of his own saw
mill.
Earlier,
Jim had contacted Dr. Harold Phillips at Warner Press, seeking information
about S. Michels. Dr. Phillips referred him to me as the person most likely to
know about Michels [something that had never occurred to me]. This became the
final push that prompted me to write my first book, Saint Sebastian - the
Long Shadow.
Pursuing
Harold's recommendation, Jim contacted me, visited Michigan, and we toured
those places I thought of most importance to the ministry of his great
grandfather and his grandmother, Pearl Michels Bamford, Sebastian and Chloe's
daughter. It was Pearl that met my father as a teenager, and solicited his help
in starting that first Sunday school in South Haven. That Sunday school became the congregation
that nurtured me throughout my childhood and teen years. To say it was a
“fulfilling occasion” would be totally inadequate.
Simultaneously,
our “TR fellowship” celebrated our four graduates: Summer Meringa, Sturgis High
School; Bill Schnepp, Michigan Technical University, Houghton; Kelly Schrader,
Ferris State University, Big Rapids; and Charles Taylor, Constantine High
School.
Talishia
Melton died tragically that same month, on June 25, my mother's birthday. This
brought all of us to our knees, literally creating the most forthright crisis
of our seventeen-plus years in Three Rivers. It created a huge need for
congregational healing and resulted in a Sunday Healing Service for a highly
distraught congregation.
Distressed
beyond her capacity to cope, Hope had inadvertently asphyxiated her lovely
Talishia with a plastic bag at 2:16 a.m. early Saturday morning--other details
follow in a later chapter.
Meanwhile,
my personal records reported July as “a crazy, hectic month.” Tommie’s youthful
former employer took his own life in an accident his family believed
intentional. Therefore, they said, it was an unforgivable sin that damned him
to hell and a Godless eternity [according to their Calvinistic theology].
A professing Christian, Art had just returned
from taking thirty-seven men to Denver, Colorado, after paying their way to the
national Promise Keepers Convention. Losing her thirty-seven year-old employer,
whom she looked upon as a son, proved personally traumatic for Tommie,
especially when it fell “our lot” to convince and comfort his Dutch
[“Calvinist”] Reformed family who
insisted he was “hell-bent” because his death was self-inflicted, even if accidental (as we believed).
This
particular year offered two expansive experiences for me [writers conferences], one sponsored by the
American Christian Writers Guild (now owned by Jerry Jenkins) at the Hillsdale,
MI. Free Methodist church; the other during the Assembly of God denomination’s National
Convention in St. Louis, MO. While there, I met my counterpart, Dr. Wayne E.
Warner. Over the years, I had read the writings of this gentleman, and knew we
shared first and last names. I learned that Dr. Warner was a minister, longtime
writer-author, currently serving as Archivist-Historian at the Headquarters
Historical Museum of the Assembly of God denomination in Springfield, MO.
That
July, we buried Ray Selent during our annual Warner Camp Meeting. Permanently
etched into our memories was the intimacy of that small group of us enjoying
our after-breakfast coffee-klatch, when Ray quietly and confidentially warned
us he would not survive the week. Tommie, ever sensitive to the workings within
the soul, quietly asked, “Ray, are you trying to tell us something?” He replied
in the affirmative, and true to that prophetic moment, he quietly went home
before that weekend. We celebrated his Memorial Service grieving, but with
profound rejoicing, for the years he and Grace invested as Warner Camp’s first
Resident Directors, a fitting climax to a ministerial career of grace-filled
ministry. The Memorial Service signaled a precious in-gathering for the climax
of our camp meeting; but in losing the big red-headed German, the State of
Michigan had lost one of its more inspirational visionaries.
Once
back in Three Rivers, we concluded July with twenty-or-more from the church
attending a minor league baseball game at Bailey Park in Battle Creek. Going
from the sublime to the ridiculous, I spent many hours during August vacuuming
up water as part of the cleanup process from the broken water pipes that
temporarily plagued the men’s restroom.
October
brought a group together from around St. Joe County for a County-wide Jail
Banquet with a new Chaplain, a Mennonite, Jake Schwartz. Meanwhile, our local
church hosted another concert in the ongoing Community Series with Gray‘s Band.
These local musicians had practiced in our new facility for several years,
faithfully inviting the community in for community-wide concerts twice a year -
an event everyone loved.
The
year's end climaxed with December Carols and Communion, and a Sacred Vocal
Concert by Dr. Wilfred Jordan. Attached to my December 1995 records, I found
this note--clearly my handwriting, but long forgotten: It said simply, “One of
finest things we did” That concert revealed the marvelous singing voice I had
not previously known that Wilfred possessed. He brought our congregation a
truly moving worship experience, accompanied by Lowell Stultz of Kalamazoo.
-1996-
The
years transitioned as Virgil Taylor, John McClimans, and Ruth Mitschelen spiced
and tastefully seasoned my pulpit ministry by each adding their own unique
variations to my pastoral menu. Gray’s Band provided an excellent entrée’ into
our community; they brought us new people not generally familiar with us.
March
added new inspiration as we prepared for Resurrection Sunday on Easter. The
snow and cold retreated while we journeyed toward the cross, challenged by the
disciplines leading to the resurrection. John McClimans proclaimed a vision of
Kingdom Living. Virgil Taylor pointed us
toward a more thoughtful prayer life. Don Gray shared personal testimony from
his experience of prison ministry in Michigan's Carson City facility. We
anticipated the arrival of Parnell Alexander as guest preacher for Easter
Jail
Ministries also absorbed heavy blocks of time, personal energy, and emotional
involvement. This proved especially true with Hope‘s long incarceration. The
jail staff at Centreville quickly learned they lacked adequate preparation for
her special needs. As a result, we found ourselves on call pretty much 24-7
throughout 1995-96. This connected us very personally with the individual
Deputies and Jailors; it involved us in working with the news media, making
court appearances, and visiting the Ypsilanti Psychiatric Unit. It resulted in
long days that occasionally exhausted and drained our mental, emotional, and
physical energies, and stretched our days into long weeks and months.
It
made my time away for an Emmaus Weekend especially refreshing and timely. I
accepted the invitation to the April Emmaus Weekend scheduled for First
Methodist Church of Kalamazoo. That weekend delivered one of the most
spiritually renewing, emotionally rewarding, and life-impacting experiences of
my forty-five years in church ministry.
As
a result of that experience, I joined Don and Bonnie Gray who had taken their
Emmaus Walk earlier, and together we accompanied other members of a nearby
Kairos team ministering at the Carson City State Correctional Facility.
I
had visited several state prisons through the years, but had never worked with
a group like Kairos. Working trans-denominationally with deeply dedicated
Christians from both outside and inside the prison [one insider a three-time
murderer] proved intellectually enlightening, spiritually reinforcing, and
socially transforming. My one regret was that I did not have the financial
means necessary continue participating in this voluntary lay movement after my retirement.
Pastoring
in a community like Three Rivers led me into widely scattered hospitals across
northern Indiana and southwestern Michigan--South Bend, Elkhart, Kalamazoo
(Bronson and Borgess), Battle Creek, and elsewhere. One such visit found the
two of us in Kalamazoo Bronson Methodist, following a very critical heart
surgery. We were standing by Sharon Ellard's bed when she awoke from her
surgery and demanded to know “Why did you wake me up? I was having such a good
dream.”
For
years, Sharon had struggled with fragile health and inadequate medical care.
For much of her life, God was the only sustenance she had to depend on. For her
part; she really did not want to come back. Nonetheless, God sustained her. He
restored her to reasonable health, and she lived a good life until 2010. When I
led her Memorial Service at the Three Rivers church, I reminded the
congregation of that earlier day at Bronson Hospital.
We
tried to make our trips count whenever we went to Kentucky. Thus, numerous
occasions saw us take carloads of used clothing to Pinecrest, KY, then under the leadership of Garland Lacy at Clay City,
KY--everything we could pack into one car.
After
quite a number of years of involvement with Substance Abuse, that group
transitioned and I became part of a newly reorganizing Domestic Violence Group,
and the new Tobacco Reduction Coalition.
We
launched “Officer Friendly” on June 18th, holding special services
with Pastor-Police Officer Murl Eastman and his “Dummy” friend, “Officer
Friendly.” They were winding down Murl’s illustrious career in ministry at
First Baptist Church. This son of a distinguished Missionary Church pastor from
the Michigan thumb had long labored in and about mid-Michigan as a police
officer, ventriloquist, mayor, school board member, and Baptist preacher.
In
Three Rivers, Murl wore varying hats with the Police-and-Fire Chaplaincy
Program, plus Officer Friendly; and on Sunday, he put on his pastor’s hat. He
worked hard for us, doing excellent preaching that included telling his life
story and his conversion while in naval service. Our attendance, unfortunately,
proved mediocre.
Back
in 1993, I had shared my friend Evangelist W. B. Jakeway with Murl, after I
discovered that both Murl and I went back a long way with Jakeway, neither of
us being aware of the other. Consequently, we agreed to combine and conduct
eight joint services with First Baptist Church, beginning with four services at
our south-side location and ending with four services at their north-side
facility. This offered each of us an excellent opportunity to reach the city,
as well as give strong cooperative witness in a show of Christian unity. It
broadened community appeal; while allowing us to begin the special services on
the south-side of town and conclude the final services on the north-side in an
expression of Christian unity without the usual denominational biases.
Retirement
As I
looked ahead to my eighteenth year in Three Rivers, I had secretly aspired to
achieve twenty years. As things stood, I was nearing seventy, and slowing. The
last two years had stressed us horrendously at times, although proving highly
satisfying. My health was still good; I saw no real reason to quit.
Nevertheless, I always knew that a pastor who is financially dependent on a
congregation … never really knows for sure!
As
I look back, after a few years of retirement, church life appears to me as
having ramped up, leaving churches holding unreal expectations for church staff
members. I have the feeling that I left pastoral life just in time to avoid a
future that would have made the past look like recreation. I always viewed
myself as a person sufficiently resilient and flexible enough to “go with the
flow…” until I discovered one day that “someone” connected to the congregation
had written letters “to Anderson” and to Dr. Nevitt in Lansing, asking for my
removal from ministry.
This
unexpected discovery stopped me cold! It caused me to pause … and … take a
long, hard look at the whole process. It began when a parishioner
approached me regarding a family matter. This individual’s young grandson would
be appearing in court; would I as Pastor write a letter to the Judge on his
behalf? Of course I would!
Since
there was not time to mail the letter to the Judge, this individual agreed to
carry my sealed letter to the Judge for me. That should have been sufficient
warning to raise the red flag. However, I liked the boy; I had watched him make
great progress under Gary’s mentoring--one of our local laymen. So, I wrote the
Judge a two-page letter. In that letter, I detailed what I knew of the
situation from a confidential pastoral perspective--things I would share only
with a professional member of the legal profession. Some of my information had
been shared confidentially and in private, and was later denied.
Since
the letter was a private conversation between me and the Judge, I sealed it. I
released it to the family messenger--pleased that I could broaden the Judge’s
background and encourage a favorable decision (but I should have known better).
The boy was not a bad kid; he deserved better than he was getting, and although
I knew he carried some unfavorable baggage, I tried to interpret it in the best
possible light and be his advocate.
HOWEVER,
I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER! You take a calculated risk whenever you trust
any person in such a circumstance! But, under the extenuating
circumstances, I naively took the risk. That individual carried my sealed
message home, carrying information I did not want exposed to prying eyes. And
NEVER in my wildest dreams, did I believe this person would allow family
members to break my seal, invade my legal privacy with the Judge, and falsely
accuse me.
That
they totally lacked the wherewith for understanding my communication with the
Judge, I understood full well! They did not understand, and I could accept
that! Nonetheless, rather than ask for an explanation; they purposefully misconstrued
my intent, slandered my good name with false charges, and requested my dismissal
from ministry! They invaded my privacy, opened my sealed mail, impugned my personal
integrity, and denied any wrong doing. Seeking my dismissal from ministry, they
said I tried to destroy a boy that truly, but falsely, hoped I could help.
I
filed my copy of my letter. Nonetheless, the damage was done! The wound cut
deep, and I no longer had sufficient desire to protest the injustice. Dr.
Nevitt and I sorted it out later in our personal communications, and I agreed:
I used very poor judgment in “trusting” someone when by training I knew better.
It was a calculated risk I should never have taken. I used poor judgment in
trusting that person who assured me they would forward my message! I paid the
price, as did the congregation and it created another congregational crisis—by
no means the first one they created.
Rather
than allowing it to foment, I promptly invited the State Pastoral Relations
Committee to come in as mediators. The mediators handled it fairly and
objectively, effecting a reconciliation of sorts that smoothed things over. As
a matter of record, we never dealt with any part of the family‘s unfair
behavior, only with their charges against me. Rather than challenge further, I
passively reconciled and allowed the matter to drop. Somewhat characteristic of
my personality, I had been betrayed but wished only to peaceably return to more
important issues.
The
situation quickly quieted and we quickly returned to our routine and moved on.
However, I requested a special time of prayer, asking everyone to search the
mind of God. I knew the long history of such
behavior by this family and I slowly concluded that contesting the situation
was no longer worth what it was costing us personally. Therefore, after much prayer over the coming
weeks, I determined that retirement and a change of venue offered the right choice
for us. With that, I announced my
retirement--just shy of eighteen years.
We
went through all the usual retirement pleasantries. Friends came in from across
the city and celebrated with us and the church recognized our years of church
service that had first launched in Arkansas on June 3, 1951. September 18, 1996
marked the official date of our retirement. As fate would have it, that also
became the week that Vital Christianity ceased publication (Shining
Light followed in 1998).
Looking
back, keeping the church doors open and relocating may have provided our most
significant achievement. I prefer to recall the changed lives that came about
through meaningful relationships along the way. My “Annual Report” of 1988-89
suggested that we achieved significant financial growth from 1979-86. Later
evaluation suggested, “We grew numerically until we got into our new building.”
From that time until now, we worked tirelessly, cooperatively, and
harmoniously, meeting many ministry needs; nonetheless our unfinished building
proved burdensome.
Relocation
stirred a level of community interest, but the expected influx never
materialized. During construction, we lost skilled members because of
personality clashes within the fellowship. I grieved over this, but satisfied
myself that we brought them further than they had ever been. I saw what I
perceived as a serious lack of outreach, and knew that without the expected
influx of new families, and without broader support, our new facility, with its
new ministries and new challenges would absorb the fullest extent of our energies.
It left us faltering and falling short of our real reason for existence. Our
financial struggles persisted; we stayed in an expansive mode—always busy, but we
were ever struggling to get beyond our basic maintenance ministries.
Without
a passionate and radical concern for an unchurched and unbelieving community,
we were simply inadequately focused and ill prepared for the rapid changes
church life was to soon experience. It was time for me to step aside.
_______________
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE -- JOY UNSPEAKABLE
I have found his
grace is all complete . . .
I have
found the pleasure I once craved . . .
I have
found a hope so bright and clear . . .
I have
found the joy no tongue can tell,
How its
waves of glory roll!
It is like a great
o’erflowing well,
Springing
up within my soul.
B. Elliott Warren, 1900
“Joy
Unspeakable” characterized Church of God people from the days of D. S. Warner
and J. C. Fisher. While some may question my inclusion here of the following
records of marriages, funerals, and such “stuff” I suggest “such stuff” need
not be sad, dull, or boring. I find it reinforces the narrative I carry about
in my mental safe deposit vault. It reaffirms that “Joy Unspeakable” that
Barney Warren’s lines remind us of - that we are all a part of one another. As
people of God, we were part of a people who joyfully sang together; we sang
what we believed and experienced and we sang it in full four-part harmony - a
joy that “no tongue can tell.”
The
experiences recorded in this chapter are my simple way of paying tribute to
some people that played a pivotal role at a significant moment in my life, and whose
memories I treasure.
_____
MEMORIAL SERVICE FOR
“BROTHER DAN”
(May 8, 1981)
The Comfort of
Scripture:
OT - Psalm 90:1-12;
93:1-5;
NT - Romans 8:1,
14-17; 28, l31, 35-39.
Pastoral Prayer
Selected Music
Eulogy
After greeting the
congregation and family with the words of Alfred Lord Tennyson, I followed the
scriptures listed with prayers and special music, then offered this personal
tribute to our mutual friend.
The
service took place at Halverson Chapel, Three Rivers, handled by my friend Phil
Halverson, and followed by a wonderful time of good food and warm fellowship,
prepared by the dependable ladies of the congregation--as only they could do it.
Burial followed later at Saranac, Michigan.
Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me,
And may there be no
moaning of the bar
When I put out to
sea.
But such
a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full
for sound or foam,
When
that which drew from out the boundless deep,
Turns
again home.
Twilight
and evening bell,
And
after that the dark,
And
may there be no madness of farewell,
When
I embark.
For
though from out our bourne of time and place
The
flood may bear us far;
I
hope to see my Pilot face to face,
When
I have crossed the bar.
Alfred Tennyson
Thursday
morning I picked up some church newsletters I was collecting for Dan, only to
remember his Monday night departure. I suddenly felt a very real sense of anger
and loss! I was not ready for him to leave us so quickly. Later, in looking
through an old college Yearbook, from Pacific Bible College, I found one of
those silly pictures showing Dan in the Dorm. He stood in his Pajamas holding a
huge candle. The inscription beneath was captioned “The Lamplighter.”
It
was a role he loved, and it is in tribute to his ministry and to our
thirty-year friendship that I offer the words of James Montgomery:
Servant of God, well done!
Rest from thy loved employ:
The battle fought, the victory won,
Enter thy Master’s joy.
The pains of death are past,
Labor and sorrow cease,
And life’s long warfare closed at last,
Thy soul is found in
peace.
In
1979 Dan and I had the special privilege of renewing an old friendship. It
began back before the birth of our thirty-year-old daughter. She was, in fact,
a guest in his Louisiana parsonage home in December of 1951 at the tender young
age of ten months. Dan accepted a role of assisting me locally. Eventually, he
retired from his employment, moved into our Three Rivers parsonage, and
established himself downtown at the northeast corner of Main and Michigan as
“Dan the Locksmith.”
Dan
began by operating his growing business on the three I’s of Initiative, Industry, and Integrity.
He took in--and trained--young Mike Fleckenstein--later Mayor Michael Fleckenstein
of Three Rivers. Mike eventually bought out Dan’s business and maintained both Dan‘s
good name and sterling reputation. He remained our good friend and proved
helpful several times when I locked my keys in my car.
Meanwhile,
Dan became our community goodwill ambassador, preacher-at-large, and a vital
part of the renewal taking place in our now-growing congregation. He preached
regularly, and Dan was always a booster. You came to call him “Brother Dan” and
many of you shared with me your love and appreciation for both Dan and Allyson.
I
had long known him as Silas--“Si.” Silas Daniel Turnbow was born in Creek
County’s sand hills, just west of Tulsa, Oklahoma and he bore two inescapable
marks. His handsome face registered his proud heritage in the Choctaw Native
American Indian tribe. His name carried the obvious influence of the Christian
home that gave him humble parentage.
When
Paul and Barnabas argued about taking John Mark on a return missionary journey,
Paul refused and called Silas to keep company with him. Silas was a strong
witness in his own right, as recorded in Acts fifteen. Silas had the
commendation of his brethren and the grace of our Lord. It was Silas who was
found at the midnight hour, in the company of Paul, in jail at Philippi. He
accompanied Paul as they prayed together and sang hymns to God while awaiting
the deliverance that came soon enough.
The
second well-known bible name is Daniel, a Hebrew youth captured by King
Nebuchadnezzar. Daniel was without blemish, handsome and skillful in all
wisdom, endowed with knowledge, under-standing, learning and competent to serve
in the King’s palace, and to teach the letters and language of the Chaldeans.
It
was Daniel who served his king as interpreter of the word from God. These names
relate to the Dan we know: Silas, a companion, one able to sit in the second
chair and be complimentary, and Daniel, God’s faithful interpreter in a
difficult time.
I
found Dan sensitive, humorous, caring, generous, personable, and warm. I knew
him as a man who had experienced the human am-bivalence of being caught in
moments of mediocrity, but also of being one who reflected the occasional
glitter of genius. Dan had no qualms about humble ministry in the cotton-field
community of Bonita, Louisiana. When opportunity came to serve Bastrop’s Cherry
Ridge church, he stepped up to the plate ready to bat. He went willingly--
serving there with equal distinction.
Dan’s
greatest pleasure came in being needed. Dan was very conscious of God in his
life, and he led the church in Rockvale, Tennessee to build a new church
facility. Later, Dan led the Madisonville, Kentucky congregation into a
historic turn-around that transformed that church into a growing congregation.
Pastoring
one of our larger congregations in Kansas—Liberal; Dan moved west to Yuma,
Arizona. When he came to Three Rivers, he talked about assisting a small church
somewhere; following a thirteen-year hiatus Dan was anxious to return to
ministry. After he had been with us a while, he eventually remarked to one or
the other of us “I really wanted to get back into a pastorate but now I’m not
sure.”
Brother
Dan found peace here in Three Rivers. Although he had wrestled long with the
demon of depression--and a restless spirit that sometimes brings the souls of
men to despair--Brother Dan was at home here. He was loved and accepted, and he
was increasingly at peace with his own humanity. Here were people in whom he
recognized his own ideal for the church, a giving-sharing-interacting people
where any and all could find friendship, reconciliation, and renewal.
Just
a week ago Sunday, Dan preached to a congregation excited at the prospect of
finally realizing a longtime dream of new facilities. His sermon described the
rebellion of the King of Moab against the King of Israel (2 Kings 3).
The
King of Israel, in turn, asked the King of Judah and the Edomites to help him
re-conquer the Moabites. They agreed and launched a campaign without planning
ahead. Finding themselves in the wilderness of Edom without water, they sought
a prophet.
The
Prophet Elisha’s revealed instruction to them was “fill this valley full of
ditches.” Prepare for God’s provision! The barren valley would be filled with
water. It is that message that Dan left with us as his friends and family.
Fill
your valley full of ditches! Your surroundings may seem as barren as the
wilderness of Edom. Your supplies may seem as inadequate as an army without
water. Your need may be great, and your abilities totally inadequate.
Nevertheless, the prophet told the three kings, “I will make this dry streambed
full of pools ... You shall not see wind or rain, but that streambed shall be
filled with water, so that you shall drink, you, your cattle, and your beasts.
This is a light thing in the sight of the Lord.”
Only
a fool lives for nothing. Dan wisely invested the greater portion of his life
in that Somebody that brings growth into our lives, as we allow
God (to)
Redeem
Our
Worth
Through
Himself.
Nothing
in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God as we
experience it through Jesus Christ, our risen Lord.
May
God’s love guard and guide you.
May
His grace be your day-by-day experience; and,
May
the omnipresence of the Holy Spirit assure you of strength for today and supply
you with bright hope tomorrow.
The
Service will conclude at the burial site in the cemetery at Saranac, Michigan …
-Amen-
_____
... A
PERSONAL ACCOUNT
OF
HOPE AND
TALISHIA …
The
jangling telephone jarred me awake … 0400 a.m. I vaguely remember shouting into
the telephone “NOOOO!” as the caller communicated an emergency message.
A distraught female voice shrieked into my ear “GET TO THE HOSPITAL!!!”
Shocked
awake, I dressed numbly. Tommie dressed quickly, knowing I sometimes awaken
slowly. I drove across Broadway, to the hospital, and we hurried up to the
entrance just as two men came out the door carrying a body bag, accompanied by our
friends, Centreville Police Chief Jim Riley and mutual friend Major Green. We
entered the hospital thinking that was likely the victim, but we were not yet
positive as to who was the victim. We soon learned that Talishia’s distraught,
developmentally challenged mother had smothered her bright and beautiful
seven-year-old child - “Everybody’s baby” - Talishia. Later I would be reminded
that day was June 24, 1995
As
it turned out, this thirty-one-year-old mother and faithful parishioner had
finally fallen through the cracks of a Welfare System badly in need of local repairs.
In time, I came to conclude that inadequately equipped Welfare Personnel should
have been on trial rather than this totally-distraught and developmentally-challenged
young mother.
When
I later corresponded with Dr. Clark, Hope’s Psychiatrist from Ann Arbor, I fed
him first-hand information about the difficulties she had experienced. A fire had
erupted in her apartment complex just the week before Talishia’s fatality.
Prior to that fire, Hope already had already experienced serious difficulty
coping with the loss of her job at the Nursing home. Mothering Talishia
adequately, managing her own personal affairs, and marrying Tim Melton after
being forced into the public job market, simply took more ability than Hope
had. Ruth had enabled her to function adequately to be socially acceptable,
until Welfare Personnel had pried her out of Ruth’s maternal control, and had
forced her into the job market.
Before
the fire, Hope had never threatened Talishia in any way, or showed the least
evidence to cause any of us to fear for Talishia, the center of Hope’s life. We
understood her inadequacies, but Talishia was acquiring increasing maturity
that helped balance the relationship. The fire, unfortunately, catapulted Hope
into a foggy nether-land beyond her mental and emotional control system, and
called for more detail than we can provide here.
Life
for Hope became a cloudy confusion that continued for many months, while we
watched her fade in and out of her jaded reality. Tommie and I personally
experienced numerous occasions and shared experiences with her, observing first
hand while she bounced back and forth
between non-realities coalesced into a foggy confusion, hanging in the balance
between sanity - sunlight and hope one minute, pitch darkness the next.
People
that have never experienced the vagaries of mental illness do not always
understand how people can display multiple personalities, endure flashbacks to
childhood, and experience numerous other traumatic issues. Tommie and I had
worked with the legal system in Texas, assisting with a diagnosed triple
schizophrenic in one instance, and were only too well aware of what was
happening with Hope. Otherwise, it was almost unbelievable! On occasions like
the Christmas party at the County Jail, I led devotions for the prisoners, and
then endured the experience of Hope relating to me as Talishia, the child she
had effectively smothered while not herself.
My
records reflect a scrawled note she gave me, allegedly written by Talishia six
months after Talishia’s death. Yet, that was Hope’s reality at that moment! One
of the secrets she and I “shared” from that evening was that Talishia came to
the party for a short visit, although no children were allowed at that adult
function.
Normally,
Hope was a sensitive soul with a happy smile. Devout in her faith, she loved to
sing solos in church. She had established a good reputation in the community as
a very dependable baby sitter. She was frequently observed enjoying her
sidewalk journeys around and about the village, with Talisha riding bicycle
beside her. Many of the community, from the Chief of Police Jim Riley to
unknown neighbors, remembered the happy pair with pleased recollections.
As
a church family we had protected, loved, and counseled mother and daughter for
six and one-half years, all the while working closely with police and social
workers. We did everything we could to protect her identity and shield her from
an abusive, drug-driven husband that harassed her.
Black,
beautiful, bold and bright, Talishia blossomed in our midst like a delicate
Spring Rose. She quickly grew to childhood levels that exceeded her
loving-but-challenged mother. Her excitement inspired us and we responded with
excited reservation anticipating the full bloom in her future. She was already
surpassing her mother developmentally, and we were wondering among ourselves
just how long that process would take.
When
Hope broke a week after the fire, Tim Melton had located Hope and had been
harassing her, looking for Talishia. We knew beyond any doubt that she had
snapped, and we concluded she was either 1) protecting Talishia from the fire
of the previous week, or 2) she was protecting Talishia from his searching
father. Although she could never describe “this is what I did,” evidence
determined that she had folded a piece of plastic together, placed it over
Talishia’s sleeping face, and held a pillow down on her face until she stopped
struggling. Later conversations with
Hope made it obvious to us that in her twisted state of mind, she was in her
own way protecting Talishia.
The
day after the tragedy--Sunday--the church was in shock and deep grief. I
cancelled services but we met in a service of healing, for ourselves. That
week, I led the Memorial Service as we buried our baby just outside of Midland,
MI, in the family plot adjacent to the New Hope Community Church of Hope, MI,
formerly led by Richard and Ruth Mitschelen.
On
July 2 we held Talishia’s Memorial Service at our Three Rivers facility (see my
Eulogy elsewhere). We visited Hope across the next ten months at the
Centreville Jail. We went through the trial with her and worked closely with
her court-appointed medical and legal teams. We were pleased and well satisfied
with the verdict of “not guilty by reason of insanity.” The court was very fair
with Hope and I had every reason to bless the legal system of St. Joe County.
Hope
spent the following eighteen months at the Forensic Center at Ypsilanti, MI.
During that time, I buried Ruth at the same Hope site near Midland, and was
able to obtain a pass for Hope and escort her to-and-from Ypsilanti to Midland
for Ruth’s funeral.
By
January 1999, Hope was making substantial improvement from her psychotic episodes.
She wrote me a letter three years into my retirement describing some of the
experiences she could now separate as reality and out of body. Her mental
health had improved sufficiently that they relocated her to the Kalamazoo State
Hospital. Later, when it closed, they moved her to a safe-haven in Sturgis.
Hope
will live her life developmentally challenged. With minimal guidance, she can
lead a reasonably normal and productive life. Ruth and I kept copies of the
paperwork related to Hope’s court case. I left my originals with Ruth but kept
photocopies. I consider this as one of the two most difficult cases I was ever
involved in as a pastoral counselor.
Needless
to say, an 8 x 10 colored photograph of Talishia long rested atop one of my
file cabinets, accompanied by pictures of my mother, and other family members.
I look at her and remember her lovingly as a child I in whom I held great hope.
Yet, there were troubling circumstances that often left me uncertain and
questioning. I can only say that as far as God is concerned; I am quite
contented that God knew best as to what lay ahead. I was her “preacher” at an
important time in her life and that was enough!
_____
MEMORIAL EULOGY
“TALISHIA”
(Edited)
During the
Revolutionary War, a group of soldiers camped near a farm house on a cold
night. The Commanding Officer saw they needed firewood. He saw a rail fence,
but he wanted to keep the farmer’s respect, so he told his men “Take off only
the top rung of the fence.”
When
the officer awoke next morning, the fence was gone, but not one soldier had
disobeyed his command. They had all taken just the top rung.
When
a Christian couple adopted a three year-old black-white child, they knew she
was dysfunctional. They took her knowing no one wanted her. They gave her a
chance and she became the delightful-but-developmentally challenged girl we
know as Hope--the same young woman who asked to be on birth pills because she
did not wish to birth a child like her.
Social
Services overruled this mother, saying Hope should be free to function in the
job market, free to marry, have a family, drive a car, and do all the things a
normal person does. One rung at a time, society dismantled the protective fence
Ruth had systematically built around Hope. In her job training, she met a young
man, married, and conceived Talishia.
Eventually,
abusive behavior that included throwing Talisha against the wall forced Hope to
take Talishia and flee to a safe harbor. More recently, stalking events and
harassing phone calls added to Hope’s terror, along with the fire episode, and there
simply was not much fence left to give Hope any real hope for the future (emphasis
added).
The result of the
missing fence leaves us coping with all the feelings aroused by the death of a
seven year-old who captured our hearts with her flirtatious eyes, her cheery
smile and her limitless energy and innocence This is Talishia’s time; a time to
celebrate her short span of life and the love lavished upon her by a doting
mother, both continually nurtured by a color-blind Christian woman who prayed
and prayed and prayed and gave and gave and gave.
Martin
Luther King, in his best known message to the world, said “I have a dream ...”
And when we allow freedom to ring … we will be able to speed up that day when
all of God’s children--black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Catholics
and Protestants--will be able to join hands and to sing in the words of the old
Negro spiritual, ‘ Free at last, free at last; thank God Almighty, we are free
at last.’”
We
celebrate Talishia’s freedom today, but we didn’t plan for it to happen this
way. We had dreams for her, dreams that King described as where “every valley
shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, and rough places
shall be made plain, and the crooked places shall be made straight and the
glory of the Lord will be revealed and all flesh shall see it together …”
Talishia’s dream did not come to full fruit and we are left with a broken
bubble.
If
you would pay tribute to Talishia today, take the word of the poet--Amanda
Bradley:
Follow your dream. . .take one
step at a time
And
don’t settle for less, just continue to climb.
Follow your dream. .
.if you stumble, don’t stop
And lose
sight of your goal, press on to the top. . .
For only on top can
we see the whole view,
can we
see what we’ve done and what we can do,
can we
then have the vision to seek something new. . .
Press
on, and follow your dream.
God
once had a dream. Because of that dream, he sent a tiny baby to a young peasant
girl. She and her husband nurtured that dream, until a baby became a man. That
man understood God walks in shoe leather and he went about doing good. As one
anointed by God, he preached good news to the poor. He proclaimed freedom for
the prisoners, sight for the blind, and help for the oppressed and the Lord’s
favor for all who would become accountable to God with their lives. His death
on a rough-hewn cross became his statement of love and ministry.
Talishia
often sang “Jesus Loves Me ...” There was no question in her mind: “red and
yellow, black and white; they are precious in His sight; Jesus loves the little
children of the world.” In fact, Jesus told his disciples they needed the
simple trust and innocence of childhood. Jesus knew temptation, but he chose to
die on a cross rather than compromise his dream. Talishia’s life challenges us
to take the high road of accountability.
Charles
Spurgeon commented on Jesus’ temptation in the Wilderness that Matthew
described. Matthew’s story talks about God and Satan and angels. It describes
the temptations of avoiding the difficult and conquering by compromise,
depending on the practical and convenient rather than sticking to principle,
questioning the high road when called on to deny self. Spurgeon said “a man may
handle holy subjects with great familiarity, and yet be himself unholy.”
We
have seen entirely too much of that in our lives and we need to hear Spurgeon’s
reminder - “It is ill to talk of angels, and yet to act like devils (The
Gospel of the Kingdom/Baker & Taylor/1893/29).
One
day, in another time and place, I pulled out of the church driveway onto the
street behind a man on a motorbike. I waved as he passed and noted his small
son tucked in, in front of him, as I followed. Dad held out his left arm
warning me of a pending left turn. That same instant, I saw a tiny hand and
arm, barely visible, just like dad, signaling a left turn. Talishia’s life is a
turn signal to us, directing us to renew our faith in God, and to
1.
Get involved in confronting the destructive forces in our society.
2.
Foster family fulfillment by standing against those forces that erode family
life and destroy faith.
3.
Fortify your own family be refusing to rear spiritually deprived and
spiritually abused families.
A
story tells of a man who heard that Sam did not work at the factory anymore.
Thinking there might be a job opening, our friend went to the company
Superintendent to apply for the job that Sam vacated, only to be told “Sam
didn’t leave any vacancy.”
Talishia
left a huge vacancy in our hearts and God would like to fill that vacuum with
applicants interested in becoming givers rather than takers. I conclude with an
excerpt from Saint Paul in Second Corinthians 5:6 (TEV):
We
know what it means to fear the Lord, and so we try to persuade others …
We
are ruled by the love of Christ, now that we recognize that one man died
for
everyone … He died for all, so that those who live should no longer live
for
themselves, but only for him who died and was raised to life for their sake
..
No longer, then, do we judge anyone by human standards … When anyone
is
joined to Christ, he is a new being, the old is gone, the new has come. All
this
is done by God … Our message is that God was making all mankind his
friends
through Christ ... Here we are, then, speaking for Christ, as though
God
himself were making his appeal through us … In our work together
with
God, then, we beg you who have received God’s grace not to let it be
be
wasted.
We
are commanded to love God supremely and to love our neighbor as we love our
self. When we love him most, we can begin to look at each other through His
eyes and help each other become the people God wants us to be.
Pastor Warner
3 p.m. service--July 2, 1995
_____
EULOGY …
REV. RUTH A.
MITSCHELEN
(From “Michigan
Action”)
Ruth A. Mitschelen
died May 11, 1997, after being stricken at home while spending a quiet Mother’s
Day with her son Matthew.
Born
July 10, 1924, in Alexandria IN., Ruth grew up in St. Joseph County, Michigan
around the Three Rivers area. Ruth became a girl- preacher in the Kentucky
Mountains and served as a youth evangelist in the Church of the Nazarene.
Following
her marriage to the Reverend Richard Mitschelen in 1947, she co-pastored with
Richard in Iowa, Nebraska, Texas, and Michigan, among Church of God
congregations. They were perhaps best known across the church for their service
to numerous small congregations and for their large multi-ethnic family that
included both mentally and physically challenged children. They fostered
forty-four children of whom they adopted thirteen of the most hopeless.
Following Richard’s death--while serving the Hope, MI. Church of God--Ruth
returned to her roots. She retired in Centreville, and attended the Three
Rivers Church.
Her
pastor and confidante for the past decade--Wayne M. Warner--conducted the
memorial service at the Smith-Minor funeral home in Midland (longtime friends
of Ruth). Burial took place in the family plot at New Hope Cemetery. Pastor
James Pauqette and the New Hope Community congregation very graciously served a
splendid fellowship dinner at the church following the service.
Warner,
assisted by Three Rivers interim pastor, John McClimans, took note of Ruth’s inability
to have children of her own and how God honored that hurt and filled her
emptiness with the compassionate love of an ideal mother. In turn, God blessed
her to perform miracles in their lives.
Surviving
Ruth is her brother, John, of Mishawaka and eleven children and their families.
September 1997
_____
EXCERPTED TESTIMONY
(My Romance With
Jesus)
I
want to share with you about a romance that has been going on for many years …
You see, I’m in love with Jesus, and He’s in love with me. . .
He
is in control of all that has happened to me and he’ll stand by my side through
it all. Even though I couldn’t understand, I could trust him. His love for me
was unconditional … Leave all to him and together we would get through.
You
see, I fell in love with him nearly fifty-five years ago as of June 1996. .
.Yes, I made mistakes and didn’t always do what he thought best. I went ahead
thinking my way was best. Then he would bring me right back to where I
disobeyed, and tell me how much he loved me and that pleasing him and doing his
will would honor him and bring glory to his name and that someday he would
bring me home to live with him for all eternity. I must trust him.
Now,
after all these years, I don’t run ahead and make as many mistakes as I did
when I first fell in love with him. Our romance has grown through the years and
my desire to have my wedding dress on when he tells me he has come to take me
home … I don’t want a spot or wrinkle to be found anywhere.
My
desire is that all who make up our church will fall in love with Jesus … That
our greatest desire would be to obey him. To let him have his way in our lives
so he can accomplish what he wants to do. Not our will, but his be done. Until
each one falls in love with Jesus and wants to serve him and do his will at all
cost, he can’t bless us and do through us what he desires to do, and will do
when we let him. He has to work through each one of us. I can hear you say, “I
can’t be like you; I couldn’t go through what you have.”
You
could if it was his will, but I pray that no one has the things happen in their
lives that I have had. He makes each of you special and with your own
personality. He wants to use you in the way he has made you. He wants to use
you in all ways. We can’t do wrong or sin and say, “That is the way he made
us.”
. . .
May we all experience a great romance
with our Lord and say from the depths of our hearts, “I’m in love with Jesus
and he’s in love with me, and wait for his return as if he were coming today.
We the church, as the bride of Christ, will be ready to meet him without spot
or wrinkle and he will find us not only
looking for him, but we will be working for him to win as many others as we
can, so they can know the joy of loving and serving him.
We
as the church must create the desire in those around us to want to taste and
see that the Lord is good and worth loving and obeying. We can’t do it by
saying we love Jesus with all of our hearts and then by our life we aren’t
willing to give him the control of our life and the life of the church. He
loves us and wants to work and accomplish great things.
It
has to start with me and you. Are you ready … ? Let him be Lord of your life.
He wants to work in our lives so that we each one become all he wants us to be.
I pray you will start today. Something has to happen to you, before something
can happen through you.
Sister
Ruth (Mitschelen)
May
3, 1996
_____
WEDDINGS OF RECORD
18 July 1979.……………………………..Helen Kimble to Mark Ames
19 August 1979.……….Leslie Diane Smith to Donald Scott Warner
22 June 1981.…………..Glynis Ann Glanville to Charles John Rahn
5 July 1981.……………….Donna Jean
Avery to Dennis Lee Voight
1 August 1981.………………….Theresa
Smith to Brad Sutherland
8 August 1981.………………Allison
B. Turnbow to George Clark
24 July 1982.………Marian Dorothy Ream to Virgil De Wayne Eash
11 February 1983.………Nancy Ann Wilcox to John Den Hartigh Jr.
7 May 1983.……………………Deborah
Donmyer to Bradley Dietz
14 May 1983.……Christina Rowene Weber to David Charles Metty
18 June 1983.…………………………….Laurie Beir to Cameron Beal
16 October 1982.………………….JoAnna Egmer to Douglas Egmer
12 May 1984.…………Lisa Marie Brown
to Edward Charles Davis
12 May 1984.……………. Michelle Renee Ross to Todd Lee Wallace
22 June 1984.………Anna Marie Johnson to Shawn Patrick Murphy
30 June 1984.…………………………….Deborah Brock to Arrel Jones
7 July 1984.………………………Sheryl
Roberts to Donald M. Ross
20 October 1984.………….Marjorie Turner Rowe to Terry L. Metty
27 October 1984.……Stephanie Ann Yerrick to Bradley Alan Davis
4 November 1984.…………..Laverne
Dee Cook to Brian A. Davis
15 June 1985.…Linda Gail D’Angelo to Timothy Alan Hockstetler
(first wedding in new
(uncompleted) facility)
10 August 1985 ……………Lisa Kay Guest to Richard Dean Gibson
23 August 1985.…………….Judy Louise Moran to Allan Curtis Bell
7 September 1985.……Deboray
Kay Culp to Mark Alan Youmans
30 May 1987.……Mary Lucille Campbell to Jeffery Clifford Timm
26 June 1987.……………………Betty Emmerich to Joseph Medsker
3 July 1987.……………………..Joy
Lynn Ellard to Larry Lee Piper
14 August 1987.………Melissa Ann Mains to Wilbur Leslie Berry
15 August 1987.…………………Beth Ann Merwin to John Scott Cole
12 September 1987.…….Diane C.
Gould to Arnold Lee Harrington
4 February 1988.……Justine Ann
Palenick to Timothy Lee Keeter
14 February 1988.……….Donna Jean Thompson Henline to Harry
George Whitman
19 March 1988.…………..Vanessa Lee Martin to Dale Lewis Smith
2 April 1988.………..Marcy Lyn
Williams to David Charles Boodt
2 July 1988.……Cherly Lynn
Doolittle to to Scott Allan Kilyanek
3 September 1988.……Marianne
Murphy to Michael Ray Miller
3 September 1988.….Marsha Kay
McGorman to Freddy A. Noel
17 October 1987.……………………Rhonda Henline to Marty Briggs
18 November 1988.……Vicky Lynn Heslet Frye to Mark J. Henline
10 June 1989.…………………………Karen Kline to Richard Johnson
14 October 1989.…..Michelle M. Fausnaugh to Andrew S. Fuelling
4 August 1990.……………Kerri Ann
Persinger to Darren M. Cole
1 December 1990.………………Stacy
Lyn Dillon to Floyd L. Beck
28 December 1990.……..Deanna L. Butcher to Raymond A. Turner
20 December 1990.………………….Anna Pennock to Richard Allen
20 April 1991.………..…Nicole Lynn Furey to Edward Allen Harris
28 September 1991.….……Mary Lynn Watson to Scott Alan Willma
1 January 1992 ..…………Martha
J. O’Conner to Herman L. Smith
18 March 1992.……..……Donna Lynn Brady to Warren Lee Martin
30 June 1992.………………………Sabrina Kutter to Scott Edwards
(Assisted Jim Lyons
at N. Anderson Church of God)
31 July 1992.…………..Debra Irene Keller to Charles John Rahn
5 December 1992...………..Cheryl Schroeder to James M. Keith
20 February 1993...Shannon L. Tucker to James Warren Colbert
17 April 1993.…....…Carol Ann Hines to Richard Joseph Speece
30 October 1993.....…Amy Lyn Schrader to Bruce James Weller
13 November 1993.……Susan Marie Cansdelle to Rex H. Larkin
2 April 1994.…..….Anna Mae
Bergen to Edward James Koman
30 April 1994.…..…Janice Ray Kimble to Ronnie Eugene Odom
26 May 1994....Carolyn Lee Metty Van Scoick to Jerry Lee King
30 July 1994.….…….Devorah Lynn Sylvester to Craig Allen Fox
14 December 1994.....Erma Maud Wells to Franklin Leroy Cole
11 February 1995.…..Susan Louise Wood to Scot Allen Van Scoik
8 April 1995.…….Tina Renee
Graystone to Todd William Kane
17 August 1996.……………Barbara Sue Rexford to John Jay Long
_____
FUNERALS OF RECORD
July 1979.……………………………....................Bert Slingerland
January 1980.……………………………................... Marie Clark
26 February 1981.……………………………....
Clarence Blodgett
21 March 1981.…………………………….......Raymond Barnhart
4 May
1981.……………………………........Silas “Dan”
Turnbow
21 June 1981.……………………………................Bertha M. Reed
16 January 1982.……………………………..........George H. Clark
16 June 1982.………………………Margret E. (Maggie) Thompson
9 November
1982.…………………………….........Guy F. Altimus
9 March
1984.……………………………...............Gladys Walker
5 September
1984.……………………………Beatrice Tackaberry
16 November 1984.……………………………............Alden Schug
14 June 1985.…………………………….......Jeffrey Scott Diffendal
27 July 1985.…………………………….....................Russell Kimble
15 October 1985.…………………………….............Marion Blodgett
7 February
1887.……………………………..............Kathryn Gregg
21 March 1987.……………………………..Nancy Tackaberry Wilcox
30 March 1987.…………………………….....................Ellen Turner
7 August
1887.……………………………...............Arvilla Sherland
18 January 1988.……………………………................Myrtle Bumen
28 March 1988.…………………………….....................Josh Steinert
(Assisting Paul Donelson,
UMC-Centreville)
11 August 1988.…………………………….................Theodore Reed
17 August 1988.……………………………..Leonia May Ward Johnson
5 May
1989.……………………………..................Robert G. Kovac
17 November 1989.……………………………............John Scott Cole
25 November 1989.…………………………….............Douglas Losik
2 November
1990.……………….Roberta Dorothy Johnson Mc Coo
8 November
1990.……………………………........Estell (Butch) Bell
6 January
1991.…………………………….........Lyle Wesley Warner
5 July
1991.……………………………....................Kathleen Lakey
(Lima, Ohio Gardendale
with Terry Davy and Jim Moore)
11 January 1992.…………………………….................George Bailey
12 August 1992.……………………………..............Mary De Nooyer,
(Assisting Ron Beyer at Kalamazoo,
MI 3rd Reformed)
24 September 1992.……………………………..............Walter Strong
15 March 1993.…………………………….................Helen Roderick
30 April 1993.……………………………..........Russell John Schueler
(Tim Kumfer and Paul Kirkpatrick,
officiating, Battle Creek Minges Hills)
4 March
1994.……………………………..............Mark Mitschelen
(Indianapolis, Richard Elsbury assisting)
29 June 1995.…………………………….................Talisha D. Melton
16 July 1995.……………………………....................Raymond Selent
(Warner Camp Ground Memorial
Service,
Wm. A. (Bill) Miller
officiating)
29 February 1996.…………………………….............Pauline Kimble
14 July 1996.…………………………….....................Steve J. Molnar
(Craig Stace assisting)
14 May 1997.……………………………...............Ruth A. Mitschelen
June 10, 2010.……………………………..............Sheran Ruth Ellard
December 11, 1943 -
June 3, 2010),
Memorial Service,
_______________
PART FIVE
POSTLUDE
I HAVE THIS DREAM … “Mountain Moving”
Lord, I’ve never moved a mountain
And I
guess I never will;
All the faith that I
could muster
Wouldn’t
move a small anthill.
Yet I’ll tell You,
Lord, I’m grateful]
For the
privilege of knowing Thee
For all the mountain
moving
Down
through life You’ve done for me.
When I
needed grace to life me
From
the depths of deep despair,
And when
burdens, pain and sorrow
Have
been more than I can bear.
You’ve
always been my helper
To
restore life’s troubled sea.
And to
move these little mountains
That
have looked so big to me.
Many
times when I’ve had problems
And
when bills I’ve had to pays
And
the worries and the heartaches
Just
kept mounting every day,
Lord,
I don’t know how You did it.
Can’t
explain the where’s or why’s
All
I know, I’ve seen these mountains
Turn
to blessings in disguise.
No - I’ve never moved a mountain,
For
my faith is far too small,
Yet
I thank You, Lord in Heaven,
You
have always heard my call.
And
as long as there are mountains
In
my life I’ll have no fear,
For
the mountain-moving Jesus
He
shall make them disappear.
-Author Unknown-
-Favorite verse of dear friend, Dr.
Donald Brumfield, GBC [MACU]
FUTURE
DIRECTIONS
“I’D GIVE ANYTHING
IF WE WERE SHOOTING FOR
ONE MILLION SOULS
INSTEAD OF ONE MILLION
DOLLARS“
W. E. Reed.
Church of God pioneer, evangelist
When my successor,
Pastor John McClimans, invited me to participate in his Mortgage Burning
service, I responded immediately by
sending Mary Molnar an SOS in Tennessee for help in recalling events. The
following letter came from Mary in response to my request. It adds perspective and affirms the
missional outreach with which we relocated. It points in the direction I pray
for the congregation to take seriously as it faces tomorrow as the Church of
God of Three Rivers, Michigan ...
Good
Afternoon, Pastor Warner:
Was good to hear
from you. Was especially pleased to be addressed as "The Builder." I
have a lot to say, but you probably won't want to relate all of it to the
'celebrants'. Don't know just how this will 'come out', but I think I can trust
you to 'clean it up' a little. Haha.
The first thing I'd
like to suggest is that the active committees who are working there now, go
back, dig out the journals, treasurer's reports--especially the minutes of the
board meetings from the days when we first began planning to buy ground and
build a new building. Those records will show what most of our intentions were.
Since we had little
money to deal with, we tried to plan ahead --sometimes far ahead--so we would
eventually have a nice 'cathedral-type' building that we all wanted but
couldn't afford right then. We planned that this building would ALWAYS BE our
'koolade'-cookie unit'. We planned that when we were able we would build a
beautiful 'church-type' building that would be toward the back northwest corner
of the existing facility, with beautiful windows, padded pew (mounted to the
floor) and everything this 'Plain Jane' building does not have.
One of the reasons
these ceilings are as high as they are, is because we planned that 'forever'
the big room could be used for lots of things, like volley ball and
basketball--using portable back-stops like-or-similar to the ones at the (then)
new Christian Fellowship Church out on 6th Avenue--now relocated in the old
high school building. Since we planned it to always be 'an all-purpose' room, a
lot of our decisions were made by that plan.
We had very little
money--lots of faith--with 85 or more meeting each Sunday in the Pearl Street
Church, but we were almost sitting on each other's laps. We made a down payment
and signed a Land Contract for the five acres where the building now rests. We
took an 'option' on three additional acres directly north of the first five.
Later we were able to pay off the land contract and put the three acres already
on option onto another land contract, and then took out a new option on three
additional acres to the north.
I was in Church
there a couple of years ago when the treasurer announced that the collection
that day was great enough to pay off ALL their indebtedness (including several
more acres that the current 'Board" had arranged to buy). I was really
moved!
We had several
Church of God groups from Lansing, Anderson, and Michigan congregations that
came to help us. I remember the first Easter:
We had the floors poured and the side walls were up, but that was about
all. We (The Church) planned an Easter Sunrise Service. As we talked about it,
I said I didn't really care where the rest of them held their service but Steve
and I would be out at the "new Church."
Everyone laughed,
but I said even if we had to sit in the corn stubble in the field, that's where
we would be. The 'building' had stacks and stacks of wallboard, lumber and
other building materials piled around everywhere and no one could figure where
we thought we could sit--except on the floor, or in the field.
What they didn't
know at the time was that I had been working behind the scenes and knew that
Meijer’s in Kalamazoo was having a sale on folding chairs. I had bought four
(4) for samples and told the WCG Ladies that I thought they were a good buy and
a very much needed commodity.
Cathy & Gary
Holmes gave me their entire Income Tax Refund toward the chairs. The WCG
organization, Myrtle Bishop, Elsie Hackler, Tommie Warner, Marjorie & Homer
Ream, and several others 'chipped in' and the week before Easter, Steve and I
went to Kalamazoo and bought one-hundred chairs to have for our Sunrise
Service.
When we were about
to have our first WCG Bazaar at the new location, I again put on my 'beggin' face
and mouth. I let everyone know that we were going to need tables to display our
wares ... and behold, we gathered enough funds to go to Sam's Club and get the
folding tables that are still in use.
One thing that
probably not many of you know is that we had a section in the hallway ceiling
boxed in and ready to install--when ready for it--a 'drop-down' stairway. It's
between the 'nursery' and the first classroom in that hall--before you get to
the "Ladies Room".
One of the most
memorable occurrences that I shall never forget, is seeing and hearing Lillian
Myers singing her favorite hymns from the top of a long ladder in front of the
library/office. We had lots of help on the building, some of it good, and some
rather questionable.
One family that had a
couple kids came out and all four of them tried to put the tape and compound on
the places where two sheets of plasterboard came together. We didn't have
enough putty knives for all of them to each have one, so they let the kids use
'table knives' . . . as you can imagine, it wasn't very smooth and Lillian was
way up on that ladder using an electric sander, trying to sand the lumpy stuff
down so we could do the painting.
We stopped for a
swig of coffee and were talking about some of our experiences when Lillian
piped up and said, "I never have used an electric sander before. I nearly
swallowed my teeth. There she had been up on the ladder, swaying around,
swinging that sander, and she didn't really know what she was doing. BUT she was
ALWAYS willing to help and do whatever she could. Every time I look at the
bulletin board on that wall, I have to remember Lillian and her very Christian
Spirit.
I wish I could have
been here with you for this celebration but it just didn't work out. I DO feel
very good--proud and thankful--for having been a part of the work that went
into the "New Building" of the Three Rivers First Church of God. I
know there is a LOT more to be done there. Those of us who worked on what's
there now, tried hard to leave you a fairly good start--with a sound
foundation--for you to complete the 'finishing'.
NOW it's time for
you all to get busy and get that "Big Beautiful Church” out there. May God give you a beautiful day and may his
blessing rest upon each and every one of you!
Sincerely,
Mary E. Molnar,
(In Memory of Steve J. Molnar)
EVANGELISM
IS
WHAT A REVIVED CHURCH DOES ABOUT ITS
RENEWAL
“We are not sent to preach sociology,
but salvation,
not the economy, but
evangelism;
not reform, but
redemption;
not culture, but
conversion;
not progress, but
pardon;
not a new social order, but
a new birth;
not revolution, but
regeneration;
not a renovation, but
a revival;
not a resurgence, but
a resurrection;
not a new
organization, but a new creation;
not democracy, but
evangelism;
not a civilization,
but a Christ.
We are ambassadors,
not diplomats.”
Hugo Thomson Kerr,
cited by Samuel M. Zwemer in
Christianity Today
_____
“LET ME LIVE BY FAITH”
Let me live by faith Dear God, let
me live by faith:
Not faith in myself, but in You;
Not faith in my own abilities,
But faith in Your Power and Wisdom.
Help me to faithfully
Walk past any playing field flooded
with the glare of
my own
self-centeredness,
And walk toward the unknown pathways
which You
have charted for me--
some less visible than
candle glow.
In the midst of the unknown
I shall find Your gifts to me;
In the midst of darkness,
I shall find the Light
Of Your Love.
And in the midst of Faith’s victory,
I shall find Your abiding Grace.
Dear God, let me live by faith!
--Peggy Ferrell--
-POSTLUDE-
Allow
me to conclude this journey Remembering Where Saints Trod by repeating the
story I drew from Phil Palmer, 10-17-83. It sheds light on my fear as I look beyond
the end of this narrative into what lies beyond.
A
little boy walked into a feed store and asked the clerk, “Mither, do you thell
thicken theed?” The clerk failed to understand the question and advised the boy
to “Come back when you can talk better son.”
Two
weeks later, the boy returned and asked “Mither, do you thell thicken theed?”
Again, he received the same reply.
A
week later, the same boy walked into the feed store and asked, “Mister, do you
want to buy a dead chicken?”
I
was not concerned about becoming a dead chicken at the time, but I was fearful
of my inability to get the job done. I did not want to see the chicken die, but
could I adequately rally the greater cooperative effort and round up sufficient
skills to complete the task before us. I have now passed the eighty-eight
mile-marker. My time at best is limited. The years have come … and gone … tomorrow
has become today. We have too many dead chickens already and the future is upon
us - already partially spent ...
BENEDICTION:
May God bless and
keep you.
May He make His face
to shine upon you;
May He transform you into
a channel that is deep and wide;
And filled full of
Loving Grace,
May His hand rest
upon you in fulfilling your Commission in Three Rivers,
And bless the TR
community through your everyday day-to-day lives.
--The End--
