This is a great mystery: but I speak concerning Christ and the church. (Ephesians 5:32)
This might be one of the more unpopular passages in Scripture. No doubt it was unpopular on the day it was written, though for very different reasons. Our generation thinks it treats women as subservient. Paul’s generation might have objected that it treated women as if they mattered. In our day, the notion that a woman should submit to her husband is repulsive. In Paul’s day, the thought that a husband should love his wife was revolting.
The Greeks set up temples where brothels formed the central part of worship. Paul taught that women were to be loved and cherished and that husbands were to be devoted and faithful. No doubt, the Greek mind found such instruction abominable. Paul insults our generation by teaching that women are to submit to their husbands and respect them. In fact, the 33rd verse uses the word “reverence.” But in Paul’s generation and ours, the world and the culture line up on the wrong side of the issue.
Besides its unpopularity, Ephesians 5 might be one of the most disregarded passages in Scripture, a fact that is on display in the all-too-common train wreck of the modern family. Speaking of which, Americans binge-watched the very popular TV show with that name for a little over a decade. The kind of “families” that provided the backdrop for this mockumentary depicted many families of our day, the full spectrum of committed, blended, non-traditional, perverse, broken, and dysfunctional.
God has a two-fold task for families: have children and rule the world. God blessed families with this task, as Genesis 1:28 reminds us:
And God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth.
God repeated this blessing quite often in the Old Testament. After the Flood, God repeated it to Noah and his seed.
And God blessed Noah and his sons, and said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth.
And you, be ye fruitful, and multiply; bring forth abundantly in the earth, and multiply therein. (Genesis 9:1, 7)
When Isaac blessed Jacob, he rehearsed this blessing.
And God Almighty bless thee, and make thee fruitful, and multiply thee, that thou mayest be a multitude of people; (Genesis 28:3)
When God changed Jacob’s name to Israel, he reiterated this blessing.
And God said unto him, I am God Almighty: be fruitful and multiply; a nation and a company of nations shall be of thee, and kings shall come out of thy loins; (Genesis 35:11)
Having children is central to this blessing, but not for sentimental reasons only. The blessing of children was also God’s plan for subduing the earth. After the Fall, God raised a godly seed with which He intended to fill the whole earth. Through that godly seed, God meant to bring the world into captivity to Himself. We see the potential on a small scale during Israel’s sojourn in Egypt. Take note of this curious statement about Israel’s sojourning in Egypt:
Joseph Smith claimed that God ordained him to “restore” the church. He describes the need for this “restoration” in his first vision, where he said,
My object in going to inquire of the Lord was to know which of all the sects was right, that I might know which to join. No sooner, therefore, did I get possession of myself, so as to be able to speak, than I asked the Personages who stood above me in the light, which of all the sects was right (for at this time it had never entered into my heart that all were wrong)—and which I should join.
I was answered that I must join none of them, for they were all wrong; and the Personage who addressed me said that all their creeds were an abomination in his sight; that those professors were all corrupt; that: “they draw near to me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me, they teach for doctrines the commandments of men, having a form of godliness, but they deny the power thereof.”
He again forbade me to join with any of them; and many other things did he say unto me, which I cannot write at this time.[1]
This raises some key questions that must be answered. What exactly is the great apostasy? What did the church lose that needed to be restored? What is the church, for that matter? The answers to these questions are the hinges upon which the door of truth swings concerning the claims of the first vision. This issue is so vital that in the preface to the 1993 printing of The Great Apostasy by Elder James Talmage, the publishers stated,
The relation of divine sovereignty to human responsibility is one of the great mysteries of the Christian faith. It is plain from Scripture in any case that both are real and that both are important. Calvinistic theology is known for its emphasis on divine sovereignty – for its view that God “works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will” (Eph. 1:11). But in Calvinism there is at least an equal emphasis upon human responsibility. (John Frame, Apologetics to the Glory of God, p. 14)
I open with this quote because, first, John Frame is a well-known Calvinist, and second, because he accurately describes here the mysterious interaction between God’s sovereignty and man’s responsibility in salvation. Recently, I placed as the tenth on my list of things I wish would change among Independent Baptists, “overstated anti-Calvinism.” In my explanation of that objection, I said that quite often, in their haste to refute Calvinists, many Independent Baptists caricature Calvinism. In response to that article, some friends asked me to explain my objections to Calvinism, which resulted in an initial post in which I objected to the way Calvinists tend to blur the paradox between God’s sovereignty and man’s responsibility in their presentation of the gospel. Now, I want to raise before you the primary proof that in Calvinism, this paradox is either blurred or ignored.
The TULIP does not account for man’s responsibility at all. Period. It gives no consideration to man’s responsibility, and nothing in it would give anyone the idea that man is responsible before God to repent and believe the gospel. If a person learning the TULIP were to take that as the summary of Christian doctrine, they would conclude that man has no part in God’s plan for our salvation other than to wait and hope that God might save him. The TULIP is an effective mnemonic device, for sure. But as far as a summary of Christian doctrine, it falls woefully short. One could argue that the TULIP only gives one side of the coin – later, I will contend that it also goes beyond Scripture in its attempt to describe God’s sovereignty in salvation. But supposing that the TULIP does give one half of the truth, half the truth is not the truth.
Now that I have lost a few friends and alienated a few admirers, I want to move into two areas that might not be as controversial but should still be addressed. But before I do, let me say again that I don’t say these things as the enemy of Independent Baptist churches. Not at all. My dad led our family into an Independent Baptist church when I was maybe 8 or 9, and I have been one ever since. I have no desire to leave.
One of the things I love about being an Independent Baptist is that we respect each other’s right to be different. I will admit that the idea of being “Independent” is somewhat sullied by the heavy-handed way some leaders have imposed their opinions on everyone else and demanded lock-step loyalty or risk separation and alienation. As I said in an earlier post, the “F” in “IFB” isn’t supposed to mean “Fragile.” But I find that many of my brethren turn into candy canes when they encounter a differing view.
I also hold some stout and passionate opinions about the way things ought to be in God’s churches. I’ve limited my list to ten of the things I think are more grievous errors among Independent Baptist churches. You are welcome to, as they say, take it or leave it. But as I believe these things contradict Scripture, I find that I must at least appeal to Scripture to call for a return to those legendary “Old Paths” – which, as I understand it, stands for faithfulness to God’s Word.
Here is #8 and #9 on my list of things I wish would change. You can read the earlier installments here, here, here, and especially here.
Using people to build the program
Of all the points I have made so far, I would guess this one will be overlooked more than any. And that’s too bad. Sure, this isn’t a hot-button topic. People haven’t done extensive rage blogging or started podcasts to deal with this particular fault. But still, there it is.
I doubt this problem is limited to the IFB. But I’m quite sure this is a problem in many IFB churches. I understand how it happens. I’ve been a pastor for long enough to know how easy it is to fill holes and find people to carry on in a ministry they aren’t equipped to do because we have to keep the ministry going. We really should pause for a minute and consider what we are doing.
In making my wish list of things to change about the IFB, I figured I would have a few things on my list that some would find offensive. As I begin this particular contribution then, let me remind you that the “F” in “IFB” doesn’t stand for “Fragile.” We in the IFB have taken our share of beatings from those outside our movement, especially those who have left it. I don’t write these things to give them props. I’ve pushed back against them plenty. But in some ways, we have lost the ability to be self-critical, evaluate our traditions, and say, “This part of ‘old-time religion’ isn’t really Biblical.”
So, I want to add a couple more things to my list of things I wish we would change. Some commenters have suggested that I have forgotten what the “I” means in “IFB.” I have not. In fact, some might consider these comments to be a mark of my own “Independence.” This is my list. I offer it for your consideration. If you disagree, let’s talk about it.
And now, for the fifth and sixth items on my wish list (you can access the first two points here and the second two here).
Silly songs
I know that many of the regular readers of this blog find contemporary worship music distasteful. And I have written enough in the past that my opinion of this kind of music is well-known. But many who reject contemporary worship for its style have embraced the silly-ditty songs of the revivalist era, even though this music is probably the forerunner of modern worship music.
Full disclosure: I struggle with much of what I see in Independent Baptist churches. I try not to be cranky or curmudgeonly, but some things in our tradition drive me crazy. I’m not leaving, and I’m not ungrateful for my heritage. I’ve been an Independent Baptist for over 40 years, since around 1980. I’m not leaving, recovering, reforming, or trashing the trailer park. But much of what I see in our movement is unbiblical.
For the most part, I can control where I fellowship, one of the more appreciated parts of being an Independent Baptist. I am in Utah, so I get left alone (or ignored), and I’m good with that too. When I am on vacation, let’s say I am very selective about the kind of church I will take my family to visit. And even with my careful research into churches, we have rarely visited an Independent Baptist Church on vacation that we enjoyed. That might be too candid for some, but it is the honest truth. Independent Baptists smirk at expository preaching – it’s too “intellectual” for them. They don’t place a high value on the words of God – despite their nearly rabid commitment to the King James. I find it ironic, in fact, that so many make a big deal about the form of the words and place so little emphasis on the words themselves.
I’m now in my fifties – not an old man, but no longer young. I’ve been committed to our movement and have publicly defended it. I’ve let myself be tagged as “one of them.” So, I’m not here trying to make a name for myself by trashing the IFB, and I’m not trying to run a ghetto parade, looting all the stores on Mainstreet, IFB. At this stage in my ministry, candor is appropriate and necessary. I’m not asking anyone to like what I am saying. My ministry hasn’t been built on good-ole-boys style glad-handing. If I have a reputation for anything, it is bluntness, an appropriate gift for the present moment.
My first post covered two things I wish would change among Independent Baptist Churches. Here are two more of the ten on my list.
Holy Ghost kook-ery
I’m no fan of the “Bapti-costal” tag. Mainly because I don’t see charismatic theology in the Bible anywhere. And I do mean “anywhere.” Looking for Pentecostalism in the Bible is like looking for fire at the bottom of the ocean – if you find it there, you should swim away fast – like in shark-is-chasing-you fast.
While I am grateful for my Independent Baptist heritage, I am not uncritical of Independent Baptists. And though some might call me picky, I struggle with much of what I see coming from Independent Baptist churches.
I recognize the independence of each church, and I do not write these things to sow discord among brethren. I have written previously about my love and appreciation for “fundamentalism,” and I am not backtracking here. I hope you will consider this a kind of “gentle nudge” toward what I think would be a more Biblical ordering of our churches.
In all, I have ten things I wish would change among Independent Baptist Churches. And given my propensity for wordiness, I’ll share those ten in small bites, a couple at a time, beginning with today’s blog post. Here’s my first two…
Gospel lite
There is, among IFB churches, a default easy-believism. Sure, we tend to take the “correct” view of easy-believism itself. I rarely (though occasionally) hear of a church that embraces easy-believism openly. But easy-believism is everywhere in our movement. We deny easy-prayerism, and we preach easy-prayerism. If, in your evangelism, you look at The Sinner’s Prayer as the finish line, then you have a part in this.
Perhaps my biggest objection to our default easy-believism is the shallow treatment of the riches of God’s grace. Too often, we barely scratch the surface of all that the gospel entails. In the average Independent Baptist church, I am afraid that the gospel is only preached to visitors and children, not to the membership of the church. Or, if the gospel is preached to the membership, it is preached “evangelistically” to produce salvation decisions rather than Biblically to deepen understanding, strengthen saints, and enrich the spiritual lives of the people.
Jesus had a following. A conservative estimate would have 10,000 people gathered on the hillside above the Sea of Galilee, possibly doubling that number (John 6:10). That’s a crowd. Most pastors would feel that their ministry was successful, given similar results. The crowds were very enthusiastic about Jesus. “He perceived that they would come and take Him by force to make Him a king” (6:15). So, they were all in. What an opportunity, if that was the point.
I’m a child of the 80s, and in the 80s, Jack Hyles was the king of church growth. When I talk to older pastors from that era, almost universally, they will tell me that they made the trek to Hammond for the Pastor’s School. My own family migrated towards and eventually landed at a Hyles church. And those were exciting days. I remember a discussion my dad had maybe a year or two before our family moved to the Hyles church. We were visiting friends in Kansas, and the topic of Jack Hyles came up. Everyone was talking about him at that time. He had one of the biggest churches in America – he said it was the biggest. My dad and his friend discussed his methods, and I listened from the back seat of the car. As I recall, they were a bit skeptical. But eventually, we ended up there. Who can argue against a growing church?
The ministry of First Baptist in Hammond is a case in point that, for many Christians, church growth trumps many vital things. If a church is growing, we will give them a pass on nearly anything – heresy, impropriety, even immorality. Chicks dig the big crowd. Perhaps then, we could be instructed by how Jesus handled His enthusiastic followers above Tiberius.
Many, O LORD my God, are thy wonderful works which thou hast done, and thy thoughts which are to us-ward: they cannot be reckoned up in order unto thee: if I would declare and speak of them, they are more than can be numbered. (Psalm 40:5)
Berean Baptist Church of Ogden started on the first Sunday of April in 1958 – 65 years ago this past Sunday. For the past twenty-two and a half years, I have had the privilege of serving Berean as her pastor. God has done some extraordinary things for our church, and I still haven’t gotten over it. So, I decided to share a couple of things with the reading public, hoping that you will be encouraged by God’s amazing kindness to a small and relatively insignificant body of Christ.
A Short History
Humanly speaking, we shouldn’t be here. The believers God used to form the church reached out to Dr. Ed Nelson, who directed them in establishing the church Biblically and recommended a man to pastor them. While the church waited for a pastor during their first year, one of the men took care of the preaching. And when the new pastor arrived, he lasted only about three years. After this, Berean experienced a revolving door of four different pastors over the next six years, followed by two years without a pastor. So, in the first twelve years of our existence, we had five pastors, one interim, and two years without a pastor. How does a church survive this?
But God sustained the church, and in 1970, God brought Pastor Hal Mason. Pastor Mason led the church for eight years, followed by Pastor Wayne Musson, Sr., who pastored the church for twelve years. Pastor Musson established our Christian Academy in 1979 and led the church to build our academy wing in the mid-1980s. But near the end of his twelve years, tensions erupted into a full-fledged church split. About half the membership walked out the door, and Pastor Musson served without a salary for the next two years. Finally, in 1990, Pastor Musson decided it was time for him to step down as pastor.
Under Pastor Musson’s direction, the church extended a call to Pastor Mark Short, the youth pastor for fourteen years at Anchor Baptist Church in Salt Lake City. When Pastor Short moved to Ogden, he wasn’t sure if God was moving him there to close the church or to lead it forward. But God healed the hurt from the church split, and the church soon thrived again.
Before I go any further, let me say that the point of rehearsing our history should not be to praise ourselves as if we have done something special. The history of our church is the history of God’s providence towards an undeserving people. We haven’t survived because we were especially great or especially godly. We have survived because God decided to display His goodness by preserving Berean Baptist Church. I cannot explain to you why Berean continues to this day. I can tell you that God has worked through some tragic events to keep and use us as a church. Many, O LORD my God, are thy wonderful works which thou hast done.
My Story
I first heard of Pastor Short and Berean Baptist Church on a rainy night at the end of a long workday in the summer of 1997. My shift ended at 9:00, and when I returned home, my wife had a message from a pastor in Utah. He said it was urgent and asked me to call him when I arrived home. Before I called, my wife and I got an atlas to see how far we were from Utah (this was in the pre-smartphone world). We had been receiving phone calls fairly regularly from pastors at the time. We had just left our second ministry in about one year – our first ministry ended with the pastor asking us to go after six months (he didn’t think I was loving enough). Our second ministry ended when the pastor resigned, and the deacons didn’t want us to stay. In June and July of that year, we worked, attended a wonderful church on the south side of Harrisburg, and visited Gettysburg every other Saturday (not kidding). I fielded plenty of phone calls from churches during that time, but I had pretty much determined that God didn’t want me in the ministry, so I declined every invitation.
So, when Pastor Short called, I figured this was just another “no.” However, I was curious about Utah. When I hung up the phone after my conversation with Pastor Short, I was even more persuaded that the answer was “no.” But, I had promised to spend some time praying before making a final decision and to mail him my resume the next day – which meant I needed to type it (on a typewriter) that night. Fortunately, WalMart was open, so we could get ribbon for the typewriter (ask an older person to explain). My wife ran down to the store – as she describes it, kicking and screaming and stomping angrily through the puddles – while I pulled out the old resume and prepared to update it. My wife didn’t think there was a remote chance that we would be going to Utah, so she didn’t see the logic in revising a resume – at 10:30 at night – so we could mail it out the next morning. But she bought the ribbon, and we sent the resume.
And over the next week and a half, I spent hours in prayer, seeking God’s will. With the previous offers, I had prayed for maybe an hour or two before God settled it in my mind that this wasn’t His will. But with this offer, God wouldn’t let me walk away. After a week of praying, the only thing I knew for sure was that I needed to keep seeking God’s direction. I talked to Pastor Short a second time, and God clarified His will for us after that phone call.
In August of 1997, my wife and I loaded a moving truck and moved to Utah, sight unseen. My wife had traveled through Utah several years earlier when she vacationed with a friend before we were married. Otherwise, we had never seen the state, let alone Berean Baptist Church.
God blessed us with four helpful, healing years under Pastor and Mrs. Short, and we began to thrive in ministry. Then, at the end of our third year of ministry, God used a friend’s death to stir me about the next stage in ministry. At the time, I was delivering newspapers (ask an older person about that), and I used those early morning walks to pray and seek God’s face.
Truthfully, when the thought of becoming a pastor first entered my mind, I believed I was in sin. I accused myself of pride and haughtiness in thinking I could ever pastor a church. Day after day, for several months, I pleaded with the Lord to deliver me from this pride, to forgive me for thinking that I could pastor a church, and to give me a humble spirit that would be content in the place God had given me.
Perhaps this sounds contrived, but God is my witness that this was how I saw it. Morning after morning, the thought would enter my mind that maybe I would become a pastor, and no sooner did the idea enter my mind but I began to plead with God to take it away and my pride with it. And then, one day, it dawned on me that maybe my pride wasn’t speaking. Maybe the Lord was leading. So I presented that to the Lord and asked Him if this was His will. In my heart, I imagined God asking me, “What if I want you to become a pastor?” When I thought about it that way, I decided it would be sinful pride on my part if God called and I refused. That brought a moment of wonderful surrender, and for the next couple of weeks, I began to ask the Lord to direct me to what He wanted me to do.
At the end of that period of prayer, I became convinced that the first step was to tell Pastor Short what the Lord had been doing. I figured that if this were of the Lord, my pastor would agree; if it weren’t, my pastor would object. So, one day in early August of 2001, I told Pastor Short what I thought the Lord was leading me to do. Pastor Short shocked me with his response. He said, “Amen! I’ve been praying for this! I pray that God will move me to the mission field and make you Berean’s pastor.”
Of all the horrifying things a person has ever said to another person, that had to be the worst thing I had ever heard. I had been wondering if maybe God would move us to Idaho to start a church or if God would have a church for us to take over. But the thought of pastoring Berean was too much for me, and I told Pastor Short that this was the last thing I would want to do. Pastor Short asked me to return to talk to him again in a week while we both prayed about what the Lord wanted.
A week later, Pastor Short expressed his concerns about me, especially if I was to become a pastor. I thought he was telling me that he had changed his mind – something I would have welcomed at that moment. But instead, he concluded by telling me that he was more convinced than ever that this was of the Lord and then reiterating his hope that God would move him and his family to Fiji and make me the next pastor of Berean.
A Tragedy
This meeting happened about a week before Pastor and Mrs. Short traveled with their family to Fiji, where the Short’s oldest daughter was a missionary with her husband, Kory Mears. The tragic events of that trip still sting. This past Sunday, we showed the documentary we made for our 60th anniversary. Central to that history is the tragic death of Pastor Short, who was swept out to sea in a riptide and drowned just days after 9-11. As a church, we still can’t rehearse that devastating day without a very emotional response. God took our pastor, and we will never get over that.
When I received the phone call with the terrible news, I knew immediately that God had prepared me for this moment. But I had a church to comfort and care for, and that took up all of my thoughts and energy. The deacons and I gathered at the church that night for prayer. We wept together, claimed God’s promises, found comfort in His Word, and reminded ourselves of our good God. At the conclusion of that meeting, I read the section of our church constitution that describes what the church is to do in the event of the sudden loss of a pastor. I wanted to ensure that the church knew the steps so we could avoid uncertainty and insecurity. Our church constitution (thankfully) sets forth very clear actions to be taken in such an event. The constitution requires that the assistant pastor become the interim pastor and that a pulpit committee be formed. We all agreed that the pulpit committee should wait until after the funeral.
After that meeting, I visited with some of our grieving members before returning home to see my wife late that night. The next morning early, a flood of emotion overwhelmed me. Throughout the day, the phone at church rang off the hook as pastors, friends, and well-wishers called to express their condolences and offer the best comfort they could. The most challenging moment came that first Sunday after his death. I dreaded standing in the pulpit that Sunday. I’ll never forget walking into the basement entryway and seeing one of our men. We both broke down, and I had to return to my office to regain my composure. That Sunday morning, I preached on the love of God from Romans 8.
Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written, For thy sake we are killed all the day long; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter. Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:35-39)
God carried our grieving hearts through those dark days. Pastor Short’s body was recovered that Sunday afternoon, and we set the funeral for two weeks after his death – providentially because it took that long to return his body to the States. After the funeral, I met with our deacons to form the pulpit committee. As Interim Pastor, I was responsible for leading the church, but I would not be part of the actual committee – only serving in an advisory role.
The Call
I knew what God was leading me to do, but I also knew that it would be very damaging to the church if I breathed so much as a hint of my conversations with Pastor Short. I believe in transparency, but this had to be an exception. As you can imagine, our church was emotionally exhausted, and if we had given any hint to the church of Pastor Short’s wishes, the people would have voted unanimously. I felt very strongly that the church needed to confirm God’s leadership in my life. For this reason, I didn’t give the pulpit committee any indication of what direction they should take. Instead, I encouraged them to choose a chairman, and then I turned the committee over to his direction.
The first meeting of the pulpit committee was interesting, to say the least. Once the chairman was chosen, he began to discuss the process of finding candidates. He asked the men if they had any suggestions. One by one, the men said they had no idea where to look. Finally, the chairman asked, “Would we want to consider Pastor Mallinak.” One of the men immediately said, “He doesn’t want it.” The men agreed. “If he wanted it, he would have said something. We wouldn’t need this pulpit committee if he wanted to be the pastor.” As the men discussed this among themselves, one man pointed out that we would still need a pulpit committee even if I did want it because the church constitution required it. There is no automatic succession from Assistant Pastor to Pastor. This led to further debate about my desire to become the pastor. Finally, one of the men said, “Well, Pastor Mallinak is sitting right here. Why don’t we ask him if he wants to be the pastor?”
So, the men asked, and I told them that I was willing to be considered. One of the men pressed me on it. If they offered, would I accept? He insisted that they didn’t want to offer it if I wasn’t going to take it. I told them I wouldn’t say: it doesn’t work that way. They needed to seek God’s will as to whether or not they should extend an invitation to me, after which I would seek God’s will as to whether or not I should accept that invitation. The men asked again, “Are you willing to be considered?” And I said that I was.
Immediately, one of the men said, “I nominate Pastor Mallinak,” and another man seconded. The chairman of the pulpit committee looked around in surprise, then said, “Well, I guess we should vote.” I’m pretty sure it doesn’t fit with Robert’s Rules of Order, but I thought I should interject something before they voted. So, I reminded them that not ten minutes before, they didn’t think I wanted to be considered. I pointed out that in the ten minutes from then to now, I was pretty sure nobody had taken time to pray and seek God’s direction in this. The men agreed, and we tabled that motion. We decided to meet again in a week. Meanwhile, the men would take time to pray over this decision.
The following week, the men had many questions for me. Some had serious concerns about me as well. Some even considered me arrogant (shocking, I know!). Nevertheless, I was thrilled with their questions and concerns, and I am grateful that they sought the Lord diligently. At the end of that meeting, the men voted to a call to me.
The following week, the chairman of the pulpit committee announced to the church that the deacons had voted unanimously to ask me to consider becoming Berean’s next pastor. We gave the church a few weeks to pray and invited them to discuss with me and among themselves whether or not I should be the pastor.
At this time, the opposition began to rise within the church. Once the announcement was made, our adult Sunday School teacher decided that he would teach what a pastor should be – and it just happened that his ideal for a pastor was the opposite of me. The chairman of our pulpit committee suggested that maybe I should attend the Sunday School class, and I did. But my presence (I sat in front of the man) did not deter him from what he had to say. On the Sunday of the vote, he opened Sunday School by announcing that he was not going to vote and intended to return his ballot empty. His father-in-law, a missionary supported by our church, had recommended this as an alternative to a “no” vote.
On the Sunday of the vote, it felt like the wheels would come off. One of the most bizarre things that happened that day came immediately after my “friend’s” Sunday School lesson (about me). I was mildly irritated at the lesson, and as I walked through the parking lot to my office, two cars came whipping into parking stalls, and about three couples came spilling out. Enthusiastically, they pumped my hand and informed me that they had heard we needed a pastor, and they had a man with them who had moved to our area to take a church. They then asked me if we had found a candidate yet. I told them that we had, that, in fact, we were voting on a man that very evening. Surprised, they asked me for the candidate’s name, which I gave them. They had never heard of him.
They didn’t ask me for my name, and I didn’t volunteer it, as they didn’t seem too interested in anything except their own agenda. Instead, they hustled into the church while I continued to my office. I took a moment to ask the Lord’s help and wisdom, fully expecting to stand up and preach to this clan, but by the time I returned to the auditorium, they were gone. Apparently, they came into the lobby asking the same questions they had asked me, and when they learned that they weren’t needed, they decided to vacate the property.
Before the vote, I had decided to accept the church’s call so long as I received the minimum vote required in our constitution (a 2/3 vote), with one exception. I did not believe I could accept the church’s call if I received a unanimous vote. I understand that many pastors desire a unanimous vote, but I had served in the church for four years, and I knew some people didn’t like me (such as the adult Sunday School teacher). I wanted an honest vote, not a sentimental vote. We were cautious not to hint at Pastor Short’s desire, knowing how that would influence the church. I assumed that a unanimous vote would not be an honest vote and thought I couldn’t accept if that were the result.
That Sunday night, after I preached, my family and I returned home while the church voted. We did not participate in the vote. About an hour later, the chairman of the pulpit committee came to our house with his family. He informed me that the church had voted to call me as the pastor. He was very anxious about what my answer would be and told me that the number one concern the church had expressed during that time was that I would decline the call.
Then, I told him what the Lord had been doing in my life before Pastor Short’s death. I told him that in the very moment when I heard the news that Pastor Short was lost at sea, God had confirmed to me His call in my life and indicated that He intended for me to pastor Berean. I then asked the chairman to give me until Wednesday to pray and re-confirm this with the Lord and told him that I would announce my decision to the church that Wednesday.
That was over twenty-two years ago now. When I accepted the call, I asked the Lord to give me forty years to pastor this church. I thought then – as I believe now – that longevity is crucial in Utah, as Bible-preaching churches are scarce, and our church especially had suffered for so many years through a revolving door of pastors. I praise the Lord for the years He has given me here. I recognize that forty years is my desire, not necessarily God’s plan and that this could all end tomorrow. But I am grateful that God continues to carry this ministry forward.
Some Thoughts
I have often looked in awe at how God helped us through such a tragic time. We are a small church. Initially, I thought that perhaps God intended something more significant for us, but twenty years later, we are still essentially the same church we were then. Humanly speaking, I would expect God to give such remarkable providences to an important church, a substantial church, a famous church. I wonder: why Berean? We aren’t well-known. We have been engaged with our city and community for these many years, and we certainly have impacted Ogden for Christ. But we aren’t exactly turning the world upside down. I don’t have an influential public ministry. For the most part, we have labored in obscurity. So, why would God go to all this trouble to preserve our church?
I don’t have an answer to that question. Everything I thought God might do through us has turned out to be wrong. We have met with many struggles and difficulties and disappointments along the way. Our church has experienced seasons of significant growth followed by times of decline. We have seen families gloriously saved and others turn from the Lord. We have sown much and brought in little and sometimes feel as if we have little to show for our work and labor in the Lord.
I am reminded that, in the history of the New Testament church, a few churches were famous, genuinely great, and influential to a generation. And there have been countless thousands of small, obscure, faithful churches scattered around the globe, where Christ is preached and magnified, and believers are disciplined in all things God has commanded. Of course, God has a purpose for the important, influential churches, and I praise God that He has raised up churches like that in every generation. But for the most part, the kingdom of God is advanced through the work of faithful churches that labor in obscurity, unknown and yet well-known, serving the Lord in their generation.
The Village Smithy 