PARTS 4-5, CHAPTERS 16-TO THE END, Pre-pub History from Three Rivers, Michigan

 

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 24^th 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 17^th, 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 21^st, reading parts of Psalm 46 and 103 before praying together. He died later that evening. We buried Marge the following day--22^nd and Walter the 24^th. 

            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 18^th, 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--