Sunday, July 25, 2021

PART ONE--CHAPTERS 1-5, Three Rivers, Michigan pre-pub history

 

PART ONE

 

In the Beginning ...”

 

 

Like a mighty army

Moves the church of God;

Come, now we are treading

Where the saints have trod,

 

We are not divided,

All one body we:

One in hope and doctrine,

One in charity.

 

Onward Christian soldiers,

Marching as to war,

With the cross of Jesus

Going on before.

(Worship the Lord/

Warner Press/1989/689/

*****

 

 

 

 

 

The Church of God of Three Rivers

Is

an open fellowship of believers,

Personally committed to Jesus Christ.

we practice believer’s baptism by immersion.

We share open communion.

We reject all denominational Membership barriers

as foreign to the family of God.

We work with all Christians

in reconciling the world to God through Jesus Christ.

Statement of Faith,

Church Bulletin of 11-15-1992,

(Dedication service for new facility, 9-1984)

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER ONE - “Rocky River”

 

            He arrived back at Fort Miami on March 24, 1680,

            “built a raft to pole up the St. Joseph as far as possible

and then became the first white man to traverse southern Michigan.”

La Salle’s incredible journey to Montreal took 65 days in all.

Larry B. Massie,

Copper Trails & Iron Rails/1989/22

 

            North of the present site of Three Rivers, Rocky River flows west to east through Flowerfield Township. It turns southerly near the present site of downtown Three Rivers, where it enters the St. Joseph River. Numerous waterways make the St. Joseph River Valley a fertile destination. These waterways offered early southern Michigan pioneers a boundless potential of natural resources.

            Productive land became readily available at $1.25 an acre. Abundant waterpower promised profit-seeking developers a sleeping giant of potential profit. The first settlement launched in 1821 with the Treaty signed by Chief Topinabee. The first incorporation came in 1829. By 1855, it was a sleepy little village, unrecognized as a town until 1895, when it approached 3,500 citizens.

            Larry Massie describes some of the area’s first pioneers in The Romance of Michigan’s Past.  On venturing into southwest Michigan, those earliest explorers must have marveled at the pristine beauty of the lush White Pigeon Prairie. Appreciative trailblazers gave high praise to the 18,000-acre tract, and added giving equal acclaim to Prairie Ronde, a few miles north, at Schoolcraft, in Kalamazoo County (Priscilla Press/1991/155-167).

            Earliest arrivals snapped up choice plots of prairie. John Winchell and Arba Heald journeyed west from Monroe, Michigan, to stake their claims. The following year, they became the first permanent settlers on the White Pigeon prairie. The settlement grew quickly, adjacent to the Indiana border, at the junction of the military road--current highway U.S. 12. A meandering trail ran northward into Kalamazoo County, continuing north from Three Rivers.

            By 1831, White Pigeon was well on its way to becoming Michigan’s oldest village. Opening a Land Office ten miles south of future Three Rivers, White Pigeon boasted a thriving population of 600 hardy souls. Thomas Sheldon relocated from Monroe to White Pigeon and on June 1, 1831, he became the Land Agent for the new Federal Land Office.

            Managed by Sheldon, and assisted by Abram Edwards the Register of Claims, the new land office brought boom times to White Pigeon. Settlements developed rapidly. They surveyed and staked claims throughout west and south-central Michigan, always close to rivers and creeks. Names like Battle Creek, Schoolcraft, Kalamazoo, and Grand Rapids, competed for the increasing numbers of people, as did others more distant.         

            Citizens of the world rubbed shoulders in White Pigeon. Louis Campau, French fur trader, arrived at the local Land Office on September 19, 1831. In filing the plat for his site at the foot of the rapids on Grand River, he became one of the original founders of the city of Grand Rapids. World Travelers and British authors, Joseph Latrobe and Patrick Shirreff, strolled about “the small pretty village comprised of well-painted frame houses,” before enjoying breakfast of Ruffled Grouse, shot on the nearby prairie.

            Titus Bronson, the eccentric Connecticut Yankee potato producer, took title to an acreage where Arcadia Creek flows into the Kalamazoo River and founded the city of Kalamazoo. Sands McCamly saw potential waterpower further east on the Kalamazoo River. Consequently, when someone claimed the entrance of the creek (called Battle); the original investors lost interest and sold to McCamly. Sands McCamly consequently became the founder of Battle Creek.

            Such diverse individuals participated in the hospitality of White Pigeon. They did their business at the Land Office and the area expanded rapidly. Helen Wickman--St. Joseph County Historical Society--suggested waterpower provided the initial impetus for pioneers coming to the Three Rivers area during those earliest days.

            About 1830, the confluence of three streams--St. Joseph, Portage and Rocky Rivers--claimed prime attention for shipping grain. Stony Creek gained its name from the rushing waters that surged around huge boulders in the main stream before men built dams. Later re-named Rocky River, stones dotted the edges of the riverbanks. Eventually, the builders retrieved many of the boulders and used them in constructing local projects like the Three Rivers Carnegie Center for the Arts.

            Pioneering entrepreneurs built numerous mills along the waterways to gain advantage from the rushing waters. In 1830, Jacob McInterfer settled in Three Rivers and built his gristmill on the West Side of Rocky River--just north of the present West Michigan Avenue. Jacob died in 1831. His heir, Solomon McInterfer, sold it to Michael Beadle who built the first mill in Flower field, a few miles north of Three Rivers. Beadle completed construction of his mill, installed a pair of boulder stones, and began grinding grist’s. He later converted it into a sawmill that no longer ground grist’s.

            By 1836, the mill had passed successively through the hands of Beadle, Schnabel, Joseph Smith and John Bowman. Beadle did a progressive milling business, expanding to the opposite side of the river, selling out in 1836 to Bowman and Smith. E. S. Moore and A. C. Prutzman leased it for the year 1838-1839, and later purchased it. They operated it for twenty more years, until 1859, before terminating their partnership.

            The mill continued to operate, but from 1870-72, people knew it as the Emery Gristmill. Still later, locals later knew it as the Roller Mills and as Harris Milling.  With a capacity of 500 barrels daily and 250 horsepower, the mill enjoyed a far-reaching reputation that extended into many eastern cities. This Three Rivers industrial site produced high-grade flour for eastern cities, utilizing the nearby railroad siding for its primary use.

            Throughout much of 1876, the mill operated day and night, producing 40,000 barrels of flour that year. Recognized as one of the oldest mills in the state, it continued to produce flour until 1904. When fire destroyed the mill on February 22, 1904, it never rebuilt.

            The Sheffield Car Company later operated a small power plant on that site, using two water wheels. Emery sold the property to the city of Three Rivers in 1911. Following that purchase, the City Fathers held a special election in 1913 and issued a $20,000 bond to build the City Water Works and Electric Light Plant.

            In 1915, voters approved the plan. The city built the plant in 1916 and the Three Rivers municipality began production--providing electricity for streetlights and other city needs. The city also supplied the water pumps and power for the community hospital. The plant closed when the dam collapsed in 1948, leaving it neglected for several decades following.

            In 1989, the city fathers negotiated a new agreement with the Three Rivers Ice Cream Company. In the years following, customers visited the historic site on the near West-side, and there we enjoyed gourmet ecstasies from the Rocky River Ice Cream Company. We often socialized after church, enjoying tasty dishes of ice cream, while history buffs savored the snippets of local history decorating the interior that revealed the city‘s earliest days.

            Between 1830 and the early 1990s, Three Rivers changed its outward appearance several times. It began as a small settlement of twenty-or-so hearty souls. Today, it takes in some 10,000 souls--one of two cities in this mostly-rural county. Residents find employment at local light industrial plants. Agriculture, seed corn and hogs still reign supreme as solid cash crops.

            Whereas the School System began in 1839 in a one-room school with one-teacher, it now serves as the city’s largest employer. The school district serves some 3,000 students within a 120 square-mile radius. Buses cover 1,500 miles per day. A school system that began by graduating two students now annually graduates two hundred and more. 

            The city of Three Rivers continues to enlarge its boundaries. One factor that remains consistent is the small-town focus on family and its strong sense of community. The Church of God message of holiness and unity came to birth long before the Church of God in Michigan organized as an ecclesiastical organization in 1920.

            What follows is the result of historical study by the pastor who walked with this Faith Family in Three Rivers, MI at the time they celebrated their Centennial, being among our earliest congregations to celebrate their first one-hundred-years. This Body of Saints now exists as one of the oldest in the Church of God in Michigan. As such, what follows is both historical in nature, and strongly autobiographical

_______________

 

CHAPTER TWO - “River City”

 

“. . . First known as the River of the Miami's,

the St. Joseph rises in Hillsdale County

and empties into Lake Michigan

. . . At one time, the St. Joseph was navigable

from Lake Michigan to Union City

and flour, grain and lumber were moved downstream

as supplies were brought upstream,

a distance of 175 miles. . .

From “Meandering Magic”

Three Rivers Commercial-News

 

            “River City” came into existence as an Indian trading post at the confluence of three streams. Approximately ten miles north of White Pigeon, it provided a southern port of entry for the Michigan territory. The Three Rivers settlement slowly evolved twenty-five miles south of Kalamazoo. It increased rapidly in influence as people homesteaded in southwestern Michigan.

            Portage Creek and Rocky River vary in size, and each enters the larger St. Joe River, from a different direction. The three waterways gave early pioneers, and the settlers that followed them, a prime resource for waterpower and transportation.

            The first Americans predated those early European explorers who used their waterways as their primary mode of travel. The confluence of the three streams provided those earliest residents a natural campsite, predictably producing a Trading Post.

            The unpredictable St, Joseph River, largest of the three, originates in northeastern Indiana--near Fort Wayne. It enters southeastern Michigan, flowing westward as it leisurely twists its way across St. Joseph County before turning sharply south. This sharp twist legitimizes the name South Bend, Indiana and winds northward from South Bend, into Michigan.

            This popular waterway finally empties into Lake Michigan, after meandering a distance of 250 miles. The mouth of the St. Joe River empties into the Big Lake and separates Benton Harbor’s poverty stricken black ghetto from the upwardly mobile, affluent and mostly-white industrial complex of St. Joseph.

            John McInterfer allegedly built his first log cabin on Rocky River. Local sources date other beginnings back to when Mr. Buck built his double log cabin house on the St. Joe River flat, south of the current downtown--later occupied by Essex Wire Company. Buck allegedly erected a double cabin. He used half of it for his home and half of it for a tavern, long known as Halfway House. Buck’s Cabin also served as the area Post Office. The first mail delivered to the Halfway House reportedly filled a quart pail.

            The French fur traders had traded with the Indians since 1680. Cassoway and Gibson maintained the original French Trading Post, dating back to the arrival of the first settlers at the junction. Believed to have been established by the French before the Revolutionary War, the Post served as a school. There, the schoolchildren could observe the comings and goings of the Indians doing business at the trading post. A red granite boulder marks the site with a bronze tablet--in LaSalle Park on Constantine Street adjacent to the zoo.

            The north side of Three Rivers settled first between Rocky River--originally called Stoney Creek--and Portage Creek. John Bowman, John Hoffman, and the Lewland family were among the earliest residents. They reportedly built their first house in Three Rivers at 235 Portage Avenue. This primary artery leaves the downtown meandering northeastward via old Portage Road toward Kalamazoo.

            Two local men--Millard and Moore--built keel boats--using them to haul grain from Three Rivers to Lake Michigan in 1834--fifty miles west. The first platting of Three Rivers came in 1836 and included only the First Ward--the north side.

            The community built its first school in 1837, on a lot owned by John Bowman, the same year Michigan became a state. The town organized its first public library, beginning with a $5.00 contribution for the purchase of books. A town meeting approved the action and they kept the books at the school.

            In 1845, John Hoffman built Hoffman’s Mill on the Portage--the present site of Hoffman and Wood Streets. Waterpower turned the wheels that ground the grain that fed the early residents. This helped drive their economic interests and the sturdily built mill became a feature story in a major Detroit newspaper in 1915.

            The first paper mill started soon thereafter--1853. That year launched a Railroad with strap rails. When completed, it passed through Three Rivers, en route to Kalamazoo from White Pigeon--the Tri-Weekly. It took an entire day to make that thirty-mile journey.

            Paper products developed into a major industrial commodity during this same time. Throughout the thirties and forties, into my High School years, I watched ocean-going Pulp Boats from overseas ports unload their products in South Haven warehouses. Ships came from as far away as Norway and Sweden. Our next-door neighbor, Ray Nelson, frequently visited the loading docks. Meeting the ships, he talked with crew members in his native Norwegian tongue.  

            The Kalamazoo Valley served as a strategic industrial center for paper products. They arrived on ships the length of two and three football fields. After crossing the Atlantic Ocean, they churned their way through the Saint Lawrence Seaway, docking in ports that dotted the Great Lakes.         

            The United States Coast Guard and the Corp of Engineers protected and maintained local harbors and shipping lanes. The Coast Guard cutter, U. S. S. Escanaba, docked frequently in South Haven. Many times, I observed them dredging Black River channel--maintaining shipping lanes for overseas vessels coming into Michigan’s inland ports.        

            Ocean-going vessels docked and unloaded their products at the Black River Terminal at the foot of Williams Street hill, as well as in other cities up and down both shorelines of Lake Michigan. Cargo then traveled by rail--later by truck--to numerous paper mills in the Kalamazoo Valley and surrounding region. This included Three Rivers and gave West Michigan a strategic role in paper products of all kinds, playing a major role in the industrial development of southwestern Michigan.

            By 1870, downtown Three Rivers already boasted long-handle-pump drinking fountains on its street corners. This busy community supported a paper mill, a sawmill, a planning mill, two pump factories, six churches, one newspaper, a baseball club, and several social clubs by 1874. Electrical power became available in 187l. At that time, the village maintained nine streetlights.

            The Chamber of Commerce building on West Michigan Avenue still commemorates the first Indian campsites and the travels of LaSalle in 1680--first-known white man to explore southwest Michigan. Main and Michigan intersect downtown, marking the site of the early Mission built by Jesuit missionaries.

            A large boulder, with a bronze memorial tablet imbedded into it, marks the site of the 1802 skirmish that took place between certain Shawnee Indians and a Federation of tribes. The City eventually incorporated this site into Scidmore Park, establishing the site in 1921 in honor of Dr. Scidmore. He donated the land on which the zoo currently resides, as well as the land occupied by the airport.

            The community held its first Homecoming in 1906. Main Street looked much different then than now, being crowded with horses and carriages. The Soldier’s Monument, now guards Bowman Park, whereas it once stood in the center of the intersection at Michigan Avenue and Main Street--then called St. Joe Street.

            Numerous footbridges spanned the rivers and facilitated easy traffic to and from various areas of the community. The Hook and Ladder Company used horses and a wagon to haul their fire equipment and in 1915, J. W. and Mrs. Kingsley opened Three Rivers’ first hospital.

            Other Historical Markers include the following sites. The Soldier’s Memorial stood in Riverside Cemetery, after being erected in 1903 to honor the soldiers of the Union Army. The Jesuit Mission Site was located at Main and Michigan, before later serving as the site of Michigan Power Company. It has since relocated, leaving a church congregating in the old facility.

            They inscribed the bronze tablet on the large boulder in Scidmore Park in 1921, to designate the site of the 1802 battle between Shawnee and Federated Indian Tribes. On West Michigan Avenue, adjacent to the Chamber of Commerce building, the Michigan Historic Marker commemorates the site of frequent Indian camps, during LaSalle’s travels through the region in 1680, as well as river navigation to-and-from Lake Michigan.

            While River City offers much to satisfy the curiosity of history buffs, our narrative follows the First Church of God on its journey out of down town to Pearl Street, and out to SE M-86. The following chapter provides a time line and profile of congregational leadership across the first century.

_______________

 

 

 

CHAPTER THREE      - “A Church Profile”

 

The church of the living God is. . .

the result of men and women being saved in Jesus,

and therefore joined together by the Lord

in the ‘bond of perfectness’ . . . 

By abiding only in Christ, his body the church,

we stand on the foundation which includes all Christians

in heaven and earth;

and not as a member of any sect, or cut-off faction.”

-D. S. Warner-

“The Church of God”

 

PASTORS OF RECORD

 

June   ----   1888        -Mr. & Mrs. Leroy Burton, Founding Pastors.

1900-1905, 1907        -Mertie Smith, first female pastor.

      1917                      - Mertie Smith, Pastor of record in first Yearbook.

      1918                      - Wm. Hartman (Kalamazoo), Longtime Overseer

1918-1925                   - James Erastus Jenkins, Pastor,

1923-1924                   - Raymond S. Jackson, alternate pastor, Co-pastor.

1924-1927                   - Samuel Mead Appointed by William Hartman.

1927                            - Mertie Smith, First pastor elected by local vote.

1928-1933                   - William Leatherman.

1933-1934                   - Mario L. Coffman, first salaried pastor.

      1934                      - Harry Foster (shortest service),died unexpectedly after

                                       serving 2 months.

      1935                      - Homer Pontius.

1937-1940                   - William Leatherman.

     1940                       - Cecil Van Hoose.

1944-1947                   - Alva and Mary Claxton.

1-48-3-1952                - Virgil and Mary Brinkman.

6-01-52--1954             - Vern Barker.

9-27-54--1959             - Samuel and Eleanor Dooty.

1959----1962             - Marvin and Estelle Moser.

5-62--6-1965             - Wayne and Barbara Halbleib.

1965--6-30-72             - Richard and Thelma Struthers.

1973-1976                   - Fred and Wanda James.

1976-1978                   - Richard Nichols.

5-79--9-18-1996         - Wayne and Tommie Warner.

1996--1998                 - John and Peggy McClimans, Interim Pastors.

1998--2020                - John and Peggy McClimans,

2020--Present             - Richard and Diane Hertsel 

 

 

 

KNOWN ASSOCIATE PASTORS

1888-                           - Numerous “flying ministers,” including

                                    - S. Michels, W. B. Grover, Leroy Sheldon.

1979-1981                   - Silas Dan Turnbow.

1985-1988                   - D. Scott Warner.

1986-1996                   - John T. McClimans.

1992-1994                   - Craig Stace, (Music and Worship)

1986-1998                   - John McClimans

                                      -Virgil Taylor

                                      - Richard D. and Diane Hertsel

 

            Earliest leadership came from lay-leaders, gospel workers, and ministers--local and itinerant. Our earliest preachers were called “flying messengers.” They traveled as itinerant evangelists--serving by faith. They considered paid preachers “hirelings”, believing them products of sectism. Three Rivers Church of God consequently had no paid pastor during its first fifty years of existence, not until1933.

            The congregation benefited greatly from numerous flying ministers. Supply Preachers, Interim Pastors, short-term and occasional itinerant Gospel Workers went everywhere.  Local bodies did not always maintain fastidious schedules; rather they depended heavily on the availability of interested individuals.

            In addition to the persons listed above, this volume would be incomplete without mentioning two area pastors, both from the same congregation. William Henry Hartman--spent fifty-four years as Kalamazoo’s first settled pastor. “Dad” Hartman, as many of us knew him, served area churches as an unelected Presiding Bishop. He frequently oversaw administration of the Three Rivers congregation, as well as other area responsibilities, including Grand Junction Camp Meeting.

            The other pastor that deserves special appreciation and thanks for extraordinary support is Senior Pastor, Gary Ausbun--Kalamazoo Westwood at the time. As a neighbor pastor, Gary worked hard at assisting Three Rivers. Throughout his Kalamazoo tenure, he worked hard at maintaining competent leadership in southwestern Michigan churches. Now retired in Elkhart, IN., Gary and Frankie remain warm friends, respected co-workers, and national leaders. We still exchange greetings at convenient interludes, each of us retired relatively close to Three Rivers.

            James (Jim) Malbone--Kalamazoo Westwood--supplied at Three Rivers and preached revivals. An all-around favorite of young and old in southwest Michigan, Jim still serves actively in Arizona at this writing and deserves more than an honorable mention here.

            Three local lay leaders had special influence during interim periods, especially 1978-79. These guest leaders include Interim Pastor Terry Boynton, Three Rivers First Church of the Nazarene, Parnell L. Alexander, now ministering on Kalamazoo’s North side, and Mrs. Elizabeth “Liz” Childress, Three Rivers First Baptist Church.

            Virgil and Kathy Taylor returned to Three Rivers and during our tenure. Virgil acknowledged to me his calling to pastoral ministry and later served as Associate Pastor to John McClimans, followed by a short stint in nearby Vandalia as bi-vocational pastors of that small multiracial congregation.

            They followed in the rich tradition of Raymond Jackson, until Virgil resigned from active ministry in mid-2005. Following their divorce, Virgil remarried, and Kathy resides in the Constantine area. We maintain contact as much as possible.

            Richard and Dianne Hertsel first met in the Crescent City, on the Gulf. They left New Orleans for Three Rivers, when FedEx relocated Richard. Diane, a New Orleans native, married Richard after he moved south from Elkhart, Indiana. On moving to Three Rivers, they attended First Church of the Nazarene, but felt providentially led to the Church of God when John McClimans ministered to them in a uniquely personal way.

            Eventually, Richard accepted a call to ministry and began the credentialing track for ordination with the Church of God in Michigan. They now serve as full-time Senior Pastors at Centre Avenue Church in Portage. We admire their fortitude and wish them well as they continue growing in their ability to serve in ministry.

-000-

 

TIMELINE OF EVENTS

1888-1932  --  Two couples began holding home services. An ongoing group developed,                    meeting frequently in homes, led by itinerant and lay ministers. At other times they met in a theatre and above a garage.

1932-1933 --  Members and friends rejoiced at completion of the original 18 x 28 frame                        chapel.

      1933     -- The men of the church raised the building, added twelve feet in length and                                digging a fully enclosed basement.

      1940     -- Ross Ream led in the building of a small frame parsonage.

      1942     -- Remodeled the church structure.

      1944     -- Added two rooms to the parsonage.

      1949     -- Burned the mortgage, built first small parsonage and obtained a church                                bus.

      1954       Launched a Building Fund; records report adding a bathtub to present                               parsonage.

      1959     -- Purchased 1111 South Main Street as a parsonage. Took option to buy                              1107 South Main Street. Purchased the  small house in between,                                             completing the 1.7-acre  site.

      1963     -- Purchased first organ--payment completed in 1965.

      1981     -- Purchased 5-acres with option for 2 on M-86, east-side.

     1984      -- Broke ground and erected multi-purpose unit on new property at                                           17398 M-86.

      1985     -- Moved to new site; sold Chapel-Annex and 1107 Main.          

      1988     -- Centennial Year.

1979-1996 –  Warner’s retired 9-18-96 after 17 years, 8-months.

_______________

 

 

CHAPTER FOUR - “The New Church in Town”

 

In the 1880’s LeRoy Burton and his wife

lived in Three Rivers as Free Methodist Ministers.

During the summer of 1888, or before,

the Burton's attended the Bangor Camp Meeting.

In August 1890,

W. B. and Henrietta Grover and Leroy Sheldon and wife

arrived in Three Rivers with three tents--

one for each couple to live in

and a larger tent for public gatherings.

Laughter Among the Trumpets/237

Gale Hetrick & Company/1980

           

            The Works Project Administration--lampooned by anti-social conservatives as Roosevelt’s WPA--published “The Michigan Historical Records Survey Project” in May 1941. I quote:

 

            “9. CHURCH OF GOD, 1890--, S. Main and Pearl Sts., Three Rivers, St. Joseph        County. Organized 1890. From 1890 to 1930 services held in private homes and a rented hall. First and present church building dedicated 1930; enlarged 1933,       frame structure. First settled Clergyman, Rev. Myrtie Fosdick, tenure unknown.             Present Clergyman,  Rev Martin L. Van Hoose, 110 South Main St., Three Rivers.           No records found”

                                              (Willard Library History Room/

Battle Creek). 

            That project informs accurately but insufficiently. Its simplicity begs for detail, lacking much of what we want to know about the people. What we do know is the Church of God in Three Rivers evolved out of that flurry of religious revivalism that coalesced in the area of Bangor, MI and Grand Junction, 1882-1898.

            It came late in the westward push of frontier religion, edging westward from New York State into the Northwest Territory. A fledgling group gathered around the preaching-publishing efforts of Elder Daniel Sidney Warner. Warner focused primarily on revival and reformation preaching, which his publishing efforts only accented.

            Quickly identifying as a reformation movement, Warner’s followers challenged Christians of all denominations. They invited people to restore experiential religion and reform sectarian practices.  Referring to the Gospel Trumpet---periodical Warner published--former Editor in Chief Harold L. Phillips called Warner’s magazine “the spearhead in the advance of the movement and his message” (Vital Christianity/1-4-1981/2).

            First edited and published by Warner, the Gospel Trumpet increasingly resulted through the efforts of a few highly committed, mostly-young zealots. Their cooperative “volunteer ministry” provided printed messages for the voluntary “flying messengers” that Editor Phillips described as the “fiery evangelists of those pioneer days.”

            They were admittedly radical! Many were quite young, but not all, by any means. The “flying messengers” went everywhere, staying nowhere. They zealously visited communities nationwide, with no plan for planting permanent congregations. They challenged established churches everywhere to restore the standard of holiness and unity at a time when most denominations competed vigorously with their denominational emphases. Before long, they initiated urban Mission Stations--from which to serve, send, and train workers. The Publishing House also launched other efforts for promoting holiness and global unity.

            The Flying Messengers gathered individuals like Leroy Burden, who wrote the following letter from Three Rivers to the editor of The Gospel Trumpet (8-1-1885), then published at Williamston, Michigan:

 

Three Rivers, Mich. [June 21]

            Dear Brethren:--God bless you all abundantly. Glory to God! I am free.

                       

            I can now claim every true child of God on earth, as a member with me in the one      body, the true Church of the First -born, who are written in heaven. “For we are           all the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus.’ We are all one in Christ Jesus our        living Head, sanctified wholly through His blood.

 

            I have not one cent to give, only for the truth, the pure Gospel of Christ. ‘If there       come any unto you and bring not this doctrine, receive him not into your house,        neither bid him God’s speed.’ 2 John 10. Christ says, ‘My sheep hear My voice,        and they follow Me. Christ is our way, we walk in Him. He is the truth, we embrace Him. He is our life, we live in Him. He is      our Lord, we obey Him. He is    our Master, we serve Him. He is our teacher, we walk in His footsteps. Glory to      God and the Lamb forever!

 

            Let us be faithful to Him and follow Him while we live in this world. Yea, ‘let us       not sleep as do others, but let us watch and be sober, looking and hastening unto      the coming of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.’ Glory, glory be to God for His wonderful loving kindness unto the children of men. It is glorious to be saved             from all sin through the blood of Christ.

                                                           Your brother.

Leroy Burden

 

            This “flying ministry” exploded in all directions. Traveling from village to village as itinerant messengers, they reminded one of that West Texas Rancher hurriedly pushing his way up to a Panhandle ticket counter. Pounding on the desk, he demanded quick service.

             When the Ticket Agent asked where he wanted to go, he bellowed “anywhere! I’ve got business everywhere.”

            Those early messengers went without rhyme or reason. They followed a divine imperative. They knew they had business everywhere, and they went anywhere they were invited. Some became so convicted of the imminent return of Christ they went uninvited, without preparation or program. Many communities they went into no longer exist as part of our geography, but the young reformers remain what they were--young reform-minded zealots.

            The soon return (Advent) of Christ had been a prominent theme among Christians since the Mille rites of the early-middle decades of the nineteenth century. Goaded by a perceived need to harvest as quickly as possible, our early pioneers went wherever they could, converting whoever they could rescue before the Lord of the Harvest made his imminent return.

            They frequently lacked the luxury of time and failed to nurture developing congregations. Yet, a veritable beehive of individuals and small cells soon met in countless communities across North America. “Scattered Saints” were active everywhere--many isolated. Among those congregations quickly taking more permanent form is our Three Rivers congregation.

            Most of these congregations witnessed actively wherever they were, blooming wherever planted. After a few years of congregational life, some smaller groups ceased to exist. They lacked nurturing and died, thus Dr. Riggle‘s expressed regret.

            In some communities, it would take years--decades--before permanent congregations germinated into plants sturdy enough to survive. My hometown of South Haven, MI. became an example of this. That community hosted Church of God activities from at least the early 1880‘s. They numbered some of their finest citizens among those earliest Saints, but all congregational efforts remained peripheral to the publishing ministry that located in Grand Junction.

            South Haven, ten miles west of Grand Junction, had no permanent congregation until the winter of 1922-23. That winter, my father, grandmother, two aunts--Myrtle and Maude—as well as Uncle Clarence, became art of a core group rallying around S. Michels. They began meeting as a visible, ongoing body of reformers, protesting denominational division and the church’s blatant disregard for holiness. 

            Noteworthy were those Holiness denominations where denominational loyalty frequently became overly intense and bitterly competitive. Each one asserted its individual brand of distinctive and superior “holiness” and that became what most often divided them, rather than uniting them.

            During those early years, the “flying messengers” blanketed southwestern Michigan, assisted by the publishing ministry. Twelve years in Grand Junction established the Gospel Trumpet Publishing Company as a viable business and a popular producer of religious literature; they also found themselves the leaders of a now-growing reform movement. The Michigan Saints, as Ray Selent loved to remind people, formed the cradle that rocked the infant Movement into its adolescence.

            That adolescent child left its Michigan home and moved to Moundsville, WVA, expanding its challenge in all directions. They invited saints and sinners alike to discover true faith. They challenged sincere people to live saintly and sanctified lives. They invited people to enlist in God’s one-of-a-kind family, and at the heart of their core values was the church.

            They were quite human, and far from perfect! They did not always comprehend what they perceived as the larger picture of God‘s Church! Sometimes, they failed to put their best foot forward. Nor, did they always interpret scripture accurately. Their opinions occasionally were purely that--“opinionation.” Some have dared to suggest they misunderstood the scriptures … idealized them in their attempt to live outside the denominational boundaries they so fiercely demonized.            

            From where we are today, I ask myself: were they pushing the envelope? Doubtless, they proclaimed some profound biblical truths that changed the contours of the universal church and increased the effectiveness of the Christian witness. Obviously, the public sometimes misunderstood them. At other times, they were simply unappreciated!

            Occasionally, they struggled among themselves, attempting to sort out the complexities of their non-conformist living, in a society that demanded conformity. Life for them was not always easy, especially when they attempted to maintain common bonds of humanity without conforming to the social-and-cultural mores.

            Church of God Ministries office at Anderson still wrestles with difficult choices, as it tries to determine how best to define and direct a global church movement serving in nearly ninety nations around the world. Although birthed in North America‘s heartland, The Church of God [Anderson] message now circles the globe, and includes more people outside of North America than inside.           

            The chapters that follow form the story of one small vest pocket of people living in an out of the way community shaped by the convergence of three (3) rivers. The stories are all true. At their best, they tell only a partial story. At minimum, they reflect the up-and-down places we all experience, the ebb and flow of change that rides across their century like a “rollercoaster.”

            For my part, I was twice-born into the protective walls of this institution once called the Church of God Reformation Movement. I have tried to produce an easy-to-read story, and if my interpretation shows bias, it only means I have given the facts as I knew them and that I try to tell them as fairly as possible. My stories are intended to offer positive hope. I overlook no one by intent. I honor that unnumbered host of witnesses, some of whom remain anonymous to this day, even if essential to the narrative. Everyone has a story to tell and I believe everyone deserves a hearing.

            In assessing our global church fairly and accurately, as I perceive it; I offer Three Rivers as a mere tiny thread in a loosely patch-worked quilt of multiplied strands of yarn, loose threading, and small-scraps of material. All together: these complete a garment whose underside sometimes appears ragged; but, IF THAT IS ALL YOU SEE, you need to understand the topside offers a lovely, warm blanket that has comforted, transformed, and lifted the lives of an innumerable company of sojourners that follow in the wake of “where the Saints have trod.”

            Transition for them came slowly! The automobile accelerated their pace, bringing dramatic changes. Some of that transition they still struggle with, such as, how to keep pace in our high-tech space-and-information age, while living in a new millennium. Like them; we struggle with problems whose roots trace back to the Garden of Eden.

            Studying our heritage makes me “aware” of the foibles and failures of our reform-minded ancestors, but we need to celebrate their successes! Balance requires constant and objective re-evaluation. Thus, we purpose to live “in the world” even when finding it difficult to avoid being “of the world.” We cling to perspectives that tell us life offers more than what we see with our natural eyes; we really do believe that we live in the suburbs of an unseen--yet real--heavenly realm.

            Tommie and I invested just shy of eighteen years in “TR” climaxing forty-five years of sojourning up and down--around, under and over--pastoral trails of Church ministry. Some readers will quickly grasp that I chose to review this journey through the lenses of Israel’s chosen people, as a sojourn toward the Promise Land. Allow this good biblical metaphor to fortify your faith, open your insights, and anchor your integrity.

            I offer these stories to bless and encourage you, while urging you to add your own story … in your own time! I conclude this chapter with a letter from an early “TR” resident, Free Methodist Minister Leroy Burden:

Three Rivers, Mich.

            Dear Brethren:

            I want to say to the glory of God I am kept by the power of God, through            faith,    ready to be revealed in the last day. I have the witness of the Spirit that I am             sanctified wholly to God, soul, body and spirit. Praise God forever and ever!           Amen!

           

            Heb, 9:13-14. “For if the blood of bulls and goats, and the             ashes of a heifer          sprinkling the unclean, sanctifieth to the purifying of the flesh; how much more           shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without          spot to God, Purge your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?’

                       

            Heb. 10:10. “By the which will we are sanctified through the offering of the body     of Christ once for all.’ I praise God for a full and complete salvation. Glory be to          Jesus, He is leading me. Amen! Sanctify them through Thy truth: Thy Word is            truth.—John 17:17.

           

            ‘To the law and to the testimony: if they speak not according to this word, it is because there is no light in them.’ --Isa. 8:20.

 

            It cannot be denied that God, in the scriptures, has set up a             standard of salvation far above that taught in the sects, and far above that accepted by the average   professor of Christianity at the present day.

           

            The Bible teaches that men should be holy in all manner of             conversation; that       they     should be perfect even as our Father in heaven is perfect; that they should             cleanse themselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit perfecting holiness in         the fear of the Lord. Glory be to God! I have the victory in my soul.

 

            O Brethren, help me praise God for His goodness. ‘He that saith, `I know him,      and keepeth not His commandments  is a liar, and the truth is not in him.’--John

            2:4. ‘Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man

            love the world, the love of the Father is not in him.--John 2:15.

           

            I praise God for a salvation that saves from all sin. I realize that the precious     blood of Jesus cleanseth me from all sin, and the very God of peace sanctifies me     wholly forever! Pray for me that my faith fail not and, that I may grow stronger            and stronger, and ever live low down at the Savior’s feet.

                                                                                       Leroy Burden

The Gospel Trumpet, 2-1-1886

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CHAPTER FIVE - “The Long Road to Three Rivers”

 

            Some people turn back their odometers, but not me;

I want people to know “why I look this way.

I’ve traveled a long way and not all of the

            roads were paved.

--Adapted

 

            In 1946 a young Airman thumbed his way across a frigid Midwest. Leaving Scott Field, Illinois, he left to spend Christmas with his parents. Enduring snow and bitter cold, he arrived in Anderson, IN., planning to spend the night and push on home. Learning that the college was hosting the nationally ranked North Carolina State Wolf Pack, he determined to see the game before moving on. “Jumping Johnnie Wilson,” would be leading the Raven's charge against the nation’s third ranked basketball team.

            That traveler and former student, found his life forever changed by attending that game. “AC’s” unranked Ravens forced the “NC” Wolf-pack into a third overtime that evening, before losing by a single point. A “nobody,” Anderson College (AU) turned a corner in intercollegiate athletics that night, as did the young Airman.

            During the game, our young Airman sought a date with a friend we will call Jeannie, who rejected his invitation but invited him to her dorm for a home visit and hot chocolate following the game. Her parents—Reverend and Mrs. C. A. Longton, former Michigan pastors--were college dorm parents. That visit also introduced our young Airman to one of Jeannie’s friends--a feisty, pint-sized freshman from Houston, Texas with hair as black as shoe polish--also Johnnie Wilson’s English mentor.

            The quick-witted stranger soon revealed both a quick wit and sharp tongue. That young man failed at dating Jeannie, whom he had known as a student, but he succeeded in marrying her friend. More than six decades later, he would admit to marrying a woman who understood far more about life than he did.

            When serious, he admits she loved him with an unconditional love he did not then comprehend, but now compares to the grace of God. Truth be told, he admits that when God called him into church ministry “God loved me even more than that small-boned southern girl with a heart as big as Texas--that Irish-Cherokee with jet-black hair has walked beside me, over the mountains and through the valleys for sixty-eight years; she was a true gift from God.” 

            God blessed that young man more abundantly than he knew. In time, God privileged him with participating in the joys, sorrows, problems and perplexities of nine congregations. Ordination and church ministry heightened his sense of holy things. With the consent of the church, and with the cooperation of involved congregations, the little Texan supported him fully and unreservedly.

            The Church of God of Arkansas concluded that his calling came from God and offered their blessing before he thought to ask for it. To this day, he remains indebted to Pastors Elzie Brown, Crossett; J. Lloyd Brown, Fordyce; and Homer Trick, Twelfth and Thayer, Little Rock. These men recognized potential worth in a very young, green-as-grass, freshman pastor, serving a newly started church in Harrison. 

            That collegial act of faith confirmed a ministerial calling, but offered a difficult assignment for a beginner to fulfill. Consequently, a relocation resulted within the year--southwest Texas. Thus, on March 13, 1952, the Texas Ministerial Assembly (TMA), meeting in regular session at Hampton Place Church of God in Dallas, ordained the young pastor on the strength of the recommendation that followed him from Arkansas.

            That Texas Credentials Committee--Leslie Gaylord, McAllen; James H. Shell, Ballinger; and Robert Lee (Uncle Bob) Strickland, Lufkin--laid prayerful hands on Wayne Warner of San Angelo, Frank Couvisier of Sweetwater, and Thaddeus Swonger of Tyler.  That 1952 Texas Assembly provided me a platform from which to proclaim that

            God

                        Redeems

                                                Our

                                                                        Worth

                                                                                                Through 

                                                                                                                        Himself.

            No vocation that I know can compare with the blessed privilege of serving the Body of Christ. Nine congregations in seven states trusted me with the high privilege of spiritually mentoring them. They honored me with the sacred trust, intimately involving me in their private lives, ably assisted by my especially-called spouse. I immersed myself in that pilgrimage into my seventh decade--June 1951--September 1996. Then I slowed to a more controlled pace.

            During our student years in Pacific Bible College--now Warner Pacific College—Tommie and I met Coral Bergfeld. This widowed Michigander aspired to return to Michigan and plant a new church. Later, we met Coral’s daughter, Marjorie Ream and husband Homer. Eventually we became Marge’s pastors, and more recently attended Homer‘s funeral.

            In time, I learned my mother knew Marge Ream. Marge had lived in South Haven for a brief span during her escapades about the country with Homer and his GTE crew--General Telephone Company. However, neither of us had any idea we would one-day terminate forty-five years of ministry by finishing them in Coral’s hometown, as Marge‘s pastors, but it would be a long journey to Three Rivers.

            I graduated from Pacific Bible College (PBC) May 25, 1951. After concluding our Friday evening graduation exercises, Tommie and I turned our loaded Plymouth away from the Mt. Tabor campus, headed east on Foster Road and began an all-night adventure.

            By Saturday afternoon, the Green Hornet’s manifold gave up. Without a muffler, we roared across Eastern Oregon highlands sounding like a farm tractor. Upon finding a garage, we dipped into our cash reserve and paid for the needed replacement of our defunct exhaust system. We spent too much of Saturday in Vale, Oregon--wasting precious time and exhausting both patience and billfold--again driving all night.

            We arrived in Boise, Idaho early Sunday morning. There; we discovered a new problem, while driving through downtown Boise. Stopping at a Service Station, we discovered a helpful attendant who found a crimped flex-line cutting off our gas supply. We concluded that God helped us find this special person that we needed. It cost us only $1.50 for part and replacement and we departed, thanking God for graciously looking out for us.

            We spent that night in nearby Caldwell, with our friends and former pastors Byrum and Genevieve Lee and their children. We had assisted them at Oregon City, Oregon during our student days and revered them. They hosted us graciously and we gained a good rest. From there, we sped southeastward in the Green Hornet—fifty (50-55 mph) miles per hour.

            Arriving at Cheyenne’s Francis E. Warren Airbase just as the midnight students came off duty from their Technical School, we felt gratified for our short visit with Maurice, Tommie’s baby brother. After years of serving in Oklahoma pastorates, and as the Oklahoma State Minister, “Mo” lived alone in Moore as a retired widower, until his death in 2015.

            With gas and lodging funds considerably depleted, we turned south toward Camp Carson, Colorado, where we rendezvoused with Bennett Allen (Bennie) Stiles, Tommie’s next younger brother. We anticipated a short visit, expecting to push on, knowing that we lacked motel money. Ben caught on and insisted that we stay with him at a nearby motel. We gratefully obliged, while he watched his new weeks-old niece, but we were too embarrassed to tell him, we lacked the funds.

            Later, I felt a bit chagrined to discover that Ben thought his Yankee brother-in-law was a skinflint German--too tight to treat his sister to the amenities she deserved. A day finally came when Ben sat in our North Texas living room--Fort Worth--long after he became a Christian and shared his changed attitude about our Colorado visit. He admitted he had not realized our limited circumstances. Being young and single, he concluded the only other obvious--I was a religious fanatic and abused his sister; I expected too much. I was stingy with my family. Therefore, he insisted that we stay with him at a motel and rest on his nickel.       

            We had become better acquainted in those intervening years. Now a successful Missouri-Kansas-Oklahoma business man, Ben had watched our self-sacrificing discipline in ministry, and concluded that we lived with a faith that he admired. He saw that our faith fortified us to stand steady when hassled by difficult circumstances beyond our control. Realizing that we had no other option at the time of our Colorado visit, Ben changed his perspective and confessed candid admiration of our commitment. He became a committed Christian, willingly risking himself and his resources for numerous missionary causes. 

            Meantime, aided by a strong stubborn streak, blessed with a strong constitution, and assisted by large mugs of black coffee, I drove our Green Hornet straight through from Colorado Springs to Welty, Oklahoma in twenty-eight hours. We stayed one night with Tommie’s parents, Doctor G. S. (Doc) and Mary Stiles.

            We drove into Harrison, Arkansas at 8:00 o’clock Friday evening, having left Portland on Friday of the previous weekend. We spent our second weekend on the job in Arkansas, where I conducted my first services and preached my first sermons to my first congregation. With dogged determination, we had chalked up 2,500 miles at fifty miles an hour in our twelve-year-old 1939 Plymouth with its rebuilt engine.

            Wandering through some of America’s most extravagant glories, we skirted the base of Mount Hood and exited a Pacific Northwest we dearly loved. We crossed the Rocky Mountains, worried our way across the Great Plains, wandered through the scenic Northwest Arkansas White River gorge and arrived at our destination at 8:30 p.m. Friday evening--bone weary.

            Once on site, we prepared to launch a new phase of our lives. Harrison, a typically small, sleepy southern county seat--hub of the rural Ozarks and home to 5,000 people, now became our new home--the church basement. For the rest of that summer, we scrimped existentially on our new salary of fifteen dollars weekly.

            I picked Arkansas flint-rock with a pickaxe at Bull Shoals Dam for ninety cents an hour, working for the Chairman of my Board of Trustees. This put milk on the table for our six-week-old “preemie” and launched forty-five years of fluster and flurry.  Meanwhile, we facilitated events, fortified people, and fortuitously enjoyed what I had long dreamed of doing.

            Shouldering a full load, we took oversight of a new mission church, launched by Warren Kendall just three years before. Within days, we joined Portland friends--Herman and Leola Harris--at the unfinished site of the new Arkansas State Youth Camp. Tommie parked our two-month-old preemie--in her $15.00 buggy. “Benched” at one end of the Dining Hall, Meredith allowed her mother to join the Draft and substitute as a last minute replacement for an absentee Cook.

            I led youth conferences on witnessing and served as a camp counselor. The cooperative ministries of Arkansas effectively inhaled--efficiently absorbed, and eventually introduced us to our career in ministry - sometimes short-lived with relationships sometimes changing rapidly. Our pastoral peers, nonetheless, welcomed us into a closely-knit and deeply committed circle of loving people. They literally wrapped their arms around us and held us tightly to their hearts.

            That special group of evangelists, pastors, and gospel workers included Warren & Leota Kendall, Herman and Leola Harris, J. Lloyd and Naomi Brown, Elzie Brown and family, the Elzie Tricks, Everett & Mary Richey, and the stream gradually widened across America.  The Church of God of Arkansas taught our first Pastoral Ministries 101 Basic Seminar at Life University.

            We launched at Harrison--personally recruited by Herman Harris. We went highly recommended, but sight-unseen. Herman was a friend, brother, and fellow student in our student days, an older, already experienced minister. This crusty veteran from Yellville, Arkansas--taking time for re-tooling in school--sought us out. The people of Harrison sought him out and insisted he negotiate all arrangements, except they refused to allow him to tell us anything about them. They requested him to secure a graduating senior, someone that knew nothing of their circumstances.

            He agreed and solicited our services, knowing I was graduating. Eager, naïve, flattered, and innocent--I was the first of my class to know where I was going after graduation. Twenty-five hundred miles later; I, with wife of four years and our two-month-old “preemie” were in Northwest Arkansas. Like the Little League team whose coach described them as “undefeated, unscored on, and all ready for their first game”, we were ready.

            We arrived with our pockets filled with dreams and aspirations, and our car tightly packed full of our minimal accumulations either inside the car, or on top of it. Our twelve-year-old Plymouth owned a solid body, and a re-built engine that promised dependable transportation, if not abused. We bought it in preparation for our relocation, purchasing it from a trusted friend--Walter Vickery, an older student from Grand Rapids, MI.  Dubbing it our “Green Hornet,” we paid Walt the agreed four hundred dollars. After three years of riding the city transit with Harley--friend of all students on the Hawthorne bus run--we had arrived!

            Twenty-twenty hindsight suggests no one should launch into ministry as trustingly as we did. Never, would we repeat that error again! To this day, we consider it among the more foolish things we have done, but it launched us into ministry and set us on a course for blazing some new trails, stabilizing some older congregations, revitalizing some small--struggling congregations, and occasionally enjoying better circumstances in between the bitter assignments. Now in Harrison, we could sink or swim--cry or grow up; we could cut bait, or fish! Once launched, we never look back. We pressed forward ... as long as we could see movement in the right direction.

            By the time we relocated to South Georgia, we arrived close to the time Martin Luther King settled into Montgomery, AL. While he stayed and became a civil rights hero, we soon moved into other responsibilities in West Virginia, where we discovered education still “no-no.” 

            Young preachers like me--college graduates that went to a “preacher factory”--were sometimes publicly ridiculed as “young jackasses.” The unelected Bishop, who superintended a coalition of part-time bi-vocational pastors that worked in the coalmines, breathed fire and brimstone while blowing smoke from his nostrils, but he knew the doctrines!

            In Mississippi, we arrived just in time to endure the unconscionable debacles relative to James Meredith and Horace Germany. We served two churches in Texas, surviving the worst drought of a half-century and experiencing a killer tornado. During our second stint in Texas--Fort Worth Ridglea--I earned a seminary degree and did selected graduate studies.

            We loved the opulent magnificence of the great Southwest. We reveled in the diversity we found in California--a different breed, true enough! After a twenty-eight year hiatus, we returned to the familiar confines of my Michigan roots. Beginning in Anderson, IN, we transitioned to Portland, OR. We entered ministry in Harrison, AR., taking intervening detours through San Angelo, TX, Bainbridge, GA, Wheeling, WVA, Yazoo City, MS, Fort Worth, TX and Vallejo, CA, before returning to Michigan where we finally concluded our journey in Three Rivers, MI. The journey proved long and arduous, but deeply rewarding.

            The nearly eighteen years we invested in “TR” concluded four and one-half decades as Church of God pastors.  It added a bonus by being within an hour and a half drive of Lake Michigan--near my parents for the first time in a quarter-century. That proved significant and allowed me meaningful participation in the final days of dad and mother’s sixty-four-year sojourn. At Mother’s request, I conducted dad’s Memorial Service--January 6, 1991. That left me eight good years with my widowed mother--until August 1998--when I left her at peace in God’s care.

            The Three Rivers' years left me older than I had ever been but far wiser than when I arrived. I stood three inches shorter, the result of a fall experienced while working on our new facility in November 1985.  The church had experienced many discouraging times prior to our arrival and did not promise us much. Yet, the challenge of taking a dying church into a new future, turning an historical corner, and writing a new chapter appealed to me. The dream eventually unfolded and we created a new “all-purpose” facility.

            That relocation promised a challenge through transforming a sixty-six-acre cornfield into a ministry center adequate to serve local and area church needs for a new century. We completed the first phase. On the other hand, growth lagged when it should have accelerated.

            Development of that larger campus would call for new levels of expanding ministry, but that could come only with more adequate support at all levels. I could only envision the day the congregation [and its leadership] would “see” the bold vision. Never again, did I want to see this congregation disintegrate and wander off hither and yon, as happened repeated times before we arrived. The best days are yet ahead, but they will require a re-energized and more-spiritually-sensitive leadership and an accompanying vision.

            Personally, I had long wanted to live in the same community long enough to plant down roots into people’s lives. Three Rivers gave me seventeen years to achieve a degree of that vision. The following pages tell many stories of the congregation's first one hundred years, but not all by any means.

            Over the decades, these “saints” evolved into a global-wide, religious network of cooperative ministries, missionary causes, and other expressions of Christian cooperation. While some still refer to us as the Church of God Reformation Movement, most refer to us simply as the Church of God, Anderson; (with General Offices, Anderson, Indiana). The reformation mindset that fueled those earliest years now emphasizes mainline orthodoxy and consists of more heritage and history than reformation, some of which may call for some course correction

            Many congregations now covet the robes of denominational respectability from the very same “sectism” with which the early “Saints” once quarreled and “came out of.” When Tommie and I entered pastoral ministry in 1951, we “intentionally worked as mainline Protestants.”  In Three Rivers, it was my privilege to serve a dozen years as Treasurer of the local Ministerial Association (TRMA). The close fellowship substantially enriched my life. In addition, I served on the St. Joe County Substance Abuse Council. At the time of my retirement, I was a member of the newly forming Countywide Domestic Violence Task Force. My relationships around the “Michiana region” were some of the richest, most cordial, and most enjoyable of our entire ministry.

            As we looked ahead to a possible 1988 Centennial celebration, I envisioned a small book, possibly fifty-or-so pages. In time, I dared dream of a book-sized published-history, but that proved an elusive dream that faded in and out like morning clouds on a hot July day.  Simultaneously, our years of scrimping, scraping, and sacrificing our way into a relocation project, finally brought us face to face with that illusive giant I call “Moving Day, Ready or Not.” 

            Between one Sunday and the next, we moved out of our Pearl Street chapel and into an unfinished all-purpose unit--without comforts. A slab floor contained four framed walls and a roof supported by a lined interior of bare studding, called walls. We had none of the necessary conveniences essential to public facilities.

            The journey became discouraging, toilsome, and unnecessarily extended. Adversity forced us to scale high peaks. Discouragement and despair led us through deep canyons. But through it all, there remained one thing we would not do--COULD NOT DO; surrender! We refused to fold our tents and hang our instruments on the Willow Trees, as did ancient Israel.

            Beginning with D. S. Warner—patron saint, pioneer, preacher-publisher, and poet-songwriter; Church of God people, to this day, remain resilient singing people. When Warner met teenaged Barney Warren at Geneva Center [rural South Haven], his preaching and personality compelled Barney to accept his own personal call to Christian ministry.

            Barney’s biggest obstacle was overcoming his father’s stubborn resistance, but eventually Barney and his brothers entered Church of God ministry, joined by their father, Tom. Author Axchie Bolitho claims brother George pastored in Battle Creek for a time, although this remains unconfirmed otherwise (To the Chief Singer/ G. T. Co./1942/33). Barney’s brother William became a frequent travelling companion of evangelist S. Michels.

            As for Barney, he sang bass, while also achieving church-wide recognition for his hundreds of meaningful lyrics. Until William Gaither arrived on the scene with Gloria Sickal Gaither in the early sixties, Barney remained the church’s best-known and most prolific composer-song writer. Accompanied by Joseph Fisher and D. S. Warner, Warren,  A. L. Byers, and C. W. Naylor were among a select-few songbird-Saints. All together, they flooded the church with harmonious sounds of praise and testimony, leaving a joyous legacy of harmony that kept us singing. Their music offered no stopping places, and refused to allow us to stop singing!

            Such music blessed the flourishing Movement immeasurably, long before we arrived in Three Rivers. Our generation had already become part of that long-established musical tradition of singing people. We sang out of a rich, full heritage of personal experiences that proclaimed deeply meaningful and personal religious encounters, that we expressed in wonderful three and four-part harmony.

            “Stepping in the Light” became one of our most-often sung hymns in Three Rivers. As a congregational favorite, it became our theme song for our “Mile of Dimes” campaign in the early eighties. Enjoying the rich, full four-part harmony of that hymn helped us raise desperately needed dollars during our relocation effort. It raised many spirits; it raised many much-needed dollars; and, it added pleasure to our participation. Walking and working in that “light,” we worshiped the God of all light. This heritage hymn recalls vivid imagery of our Three Rivers journey, as well as of those earlier saints and numerous others making the journey:

 

                        Trying to walk in the steps of the Savior,

                                    Trying to follow our Savior and King;

                        Shaping our lives by His blessed example,

                                    Happy, how happy, the songs that we bring.

 

                        How beautiful to walk in the steps of the Savior,

                                    Stepping in the light, Stepping in the light;

                        How beautiful to walk in the steps of the Savior,

                                    Led in paths of light.                              

(Worship the Lord/Warner Press/1989/669)

 

            By the time for the church’s Centennial, we were too immersed in our “to do” list to celebrate the previous century on a scale I thought befitting. We simply were too absorbed trying to complete an unfinished facility; compiling, editing and publishing a book proved more burdensome than blessing and before I knew it, retirement was staring me full in the face.

            Not yet ready to retire, I pushed past that elusive sixty-five mile marker, finished out my sixties, and found myself with an ever evasive dream, still smoldering as a mere wisp of smoke. Safely stored in my file cabinets, it seemed safe enough still lingering just beyond reach. The tantalizing dream of that completed book remained unfulfilled.

            When I could no longer tolerate further procrastination, I began re-tracing my paper trail of documents and notes of people, places, and memories. The journey looked impossible, but I determined to follow it to the best of my ability.  After years of writing and re-writing, complicated by more than a decade of work with Reformation Publishers, I still wrestled with this promised project.

            That valley portrayed as the Biblical shadow of death, became an unavoidable camping place in 2005. That year saw Tommie literally snatched from the jaws of death--several times, after which she improved significantly. Those were, however, dark days—pain-filled with angina and severe arthritis, CHF [congestive heart failure], and Paget’s disease, during which I added “care-giver” to my writing resume.

            I truly hope I have given more than idle glimpses into a rear-view mirror. May it significantly stimulate history buffs. I am eternally grateful for our opportunities to serve the church and I write out of deep love for the church. Whatever it’s worth, I leave that “for the Glory of God” and for the values we absorbed while we walked where some of God’s choice “Saints” once trod.

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