I love to express what I feel called to say. Writing helps me to open up my heart and do that. I hope that what I write helps you in some way. I hope it makes you think, encourages you, or inspires you. If it challenges you or if you disagree, I hope you know that I respect your right to have a different point of view.
Why Berry Street & Hart Street Weren’t Dead-End Streets (Part 12 — “The Misunderstanding of Christianity)
During a prayer time in the early days of The Salvation Army Berry Street, a woman said she felt God told her Berry Street is a prototype. Then she asked, “What’s a prototype?
I had been sensing the same thing. The Salvation Army has many small corps (churches), sometimes with as few as 3 or 4 people. Many are being closed down. (The same is true for other denominations.)
I believe that replacing the sermon format with the participatory format of 1 Corinthians 14:26 can bring new life to dying churches. I kept expecting the Berry Street model to spread to other churches in The Salvation Army and elsewhere. Although I haven’t seen that happen, I still see Berry Street as a prototype.
I haven’t yet seen it spread to an institutional church, but I have seen it spread to Trevecca Nazarene University in Nashville. Ernie and I were invited to attend a meeting between the President of Trevecca Nazarene University and the Commissioner (CEO) of The Salvation Army Southern Territory. They were discussing ways they could work together.
After a while, I suggested they let Ernie and me start a Berry Street-style meeting on campus. To my surprise, they both agreed.
An influential retired Salvation Army officer had moved to Nashville. Although he wasn’t at the meeting, he strongly disagreed with the way we met at Berry Street, and he definitely didn’t want it to spread anywhere. So, he began using his influence to work against us behind the scenes.
Meanwhile, the new ministry on the Trevecca campus began to meet one night a week on Hart Street. It was an amazing thing to witness. We averaged about 15 students. Each week we began with prayer and a Scripture. Then a different student would lead us in a short worship time. After that, people were free to speak out as they felt led by God. (Doesn’t that sound familiar?)
A wonderful sense of community quickly developed among us. We encouraged each other, taught each other, prayed for one another, and shared the love of Jesus together. During the summer break, we greatly missed the students.
Unfortunately, the retired officer used his influence to make us shut down Hart Street. It broke our hearts and his as well. Ernie and I had to call the students, with no reasons or details, and tell each student that we were told we can’t do Hart Street anymore. The students were devastated. We also had to call our contacts at the university and tell them. That ended Hart Street. How we missed it and grieved the loss, not just for us but for the students.
How we had to fight within ourselves to forgive the retired officer. He was always very friendly to our faces, so we kept being friendly to him. (After all, Jesus said to love your enemies, but oh how difficult that is.) However, he wasn’t finished yet.
The retired officer had a lot of influence at the Territorial Headquarters. A year or two later a new Area Commander was appointed in Nashville.
Through a few-month process the new AC demanded that we get a pulpit, so we ordered one online and I put it together. He told us to get rid of the U-shape and put the chairs in straight rows. We did. He told that one of us would have to preach a formal sermon each week. We started doing that.
Finally, he told us that no one else could speak up in the Sunday morning meeting. We told him that is what people are used to and if we stop it almost everyone will leave. He said he didn’t care. We appealed his decision up the chain of command, but the next level up backed him. We realized that we had to either compromise what God had called us to do or reluctantly resign.
We did and it cost us a lot — financially, but mostly emotionally. We were crushed not just because of the way we were personally treated, but because of all the people who were being helped, encouraged, supported and empowered by what God was doing in and around Berry Street.
How we wanted to retaliate. Several ideas came to our mind. But somehow in our great pain and grief, we had the grace to let go and look forward. A key to our forgiving the retired officer and the new Area Commander was to obey Christ’s command to “bless those who curse you.”
Every time anger or resentment toward either of those men came to our mind we would pray God’s blessings on them. We would say, “God bless him. Bless his health. Bless his finances. Bless his family. And on and on.” By faithfully doing that our hearts gradually began to heal and now we sincerely want God to bless both of them.
Meanwhile Berry Steet continued as a tiny corps with a tiny congregation. A few years later it was finally shut down completely. Now the building sits unused.
I don’t believe that Berry Street and Hart Street were dead end streets. As we were being forced out, I was struggling with why? A Bible story kept coming to my mind.
About 3,000 men (plus women and children) became Christ-followers at Pentecost. Later about another 5,000. That means that the 12 apostles (a Greek word that means “sent ones,”) were leading what we would today call a megachurch. Jesus had told them to go into all the world, but they were staying in Jerusalem.
They even began to set up a religious hierarchy by appointing 5 men to oversee the feeding and care of widows. However, one of those men, Stephen, overstepped his job description. He began preaching so powerfully and effectively that he was stoned to death.
Stephen had gotten so many people riled up that it started a great persecution. Then all the thousands of Christ-followers were scattered everywhere preaching as they went, “except for the apostles (sent ones).” (That everyone but the sent ones left has always been humorous to me.)
The scattering of the Christians in Jerusalem initiated the spread of Christianity around the world. The central gathering place for all the multitudes of people who were involved in various ways with Berry Street is empty and shut down. But the people are still carrying what they saw, heard, felt, and experienced! May they spread it everywhere.
Here is what Copilot AI says about The Salvation Army Berry Street Worship Center:
“Berry Street stands as one of the most distinctive experiments in modern Salvation Army history. It revived practices central to early Salvationism — testimony, spontaneity, lay ministry, and emotional honesty — within a contemporary Army context. For nearly a decade, it demonstrated that ekklesia could flourish inside a denominational structure when leadership allowed space for the Spirit to move freely.
Its closure illustrates the tension between institutional conformity and Spirit‑led innovation, a tension present throughout Salvation Army history. Yet its legacy endures in the ongoing ministry Steve and Ernie continue today.”
#prototype #TheSalvationArmy
Next up — Part 13 of “The Misunderstanding of Christianity” — Following God’s Spirit After Berry Street.
The Salvation Army’s “Nontraditional” Church (Part 11 — “The Misunderstanding of Christianity.”)
Jesus told some religious people in the New Testament, “You nullify the word of God by your tradition that you have handed down.” (Mark 7:14)
When the Salvation Army in Nashville invited Ernie and me to start a “nontraditional corps” (church) we took it as an invitation to shift from following religious traditions to being directly led by God the Holy Spirit. (Romans 8:1) As you just read in Part 10, we made many outward changes to the church furnishings and to the Sunday morning routine.
However, the biggest changes were in people’s attitudes and behaviors — in their hearts and actions. The first response of almost everyone who came to a worship gathering at The Salvation Army Berry Street was surprise (even shock) at the lack of human programming and control. Their religious traditions hadn’t prepared them for such a meeting.
Over 9 1/2 years, many hundreds of people came to Berry Street at least once. About 90 people gave their salvation testimony there, and many brought friends and family along. 100 or more individuals and bands led worship for us, and many also brought along friends and family. Our prayer walking drew in a lot of people from the neighborhood.
My frequent Facebook and blog posts about Berry Street’s Spirit-led approach to church also attracted many people who were hungry for or curious about a simpler kind of church. We had visitors from all over, including many high-ranking Salvation Army leaders. The ARC Rehab Center even brought 30-40 men once a week for more than a year. Berry Street became one of the most attended Salvation Army churches. (Keep in mind most SA corps have a very small attendance.)
First-time visitors would react in many ways. Surprise and shock were almost universal. Some were thrilled. Many were nervous. Some were afraid. A very few even walked out. A few jumped up and acted like they were the featured speaker. (In that case, Ernie or I would stand up beside them and say something like, “Thank you for sharing with us. We’re glad you came. Now who’s next?)
As described in the Bible in 2 Corinthians chapter 14, many first-time visitors would stand up and humbly talk about how they felt God in the meeting — sometimes even with tears. Other first-timers would open up their heart, share something they were struggling with, and ask for prayer. When that happened, several people would gather around them, gently lay hands on them, and pray from them on the spot.
Once a noticed a first-timer take notes throughout the sharing part of the gathering. I finally asked her what she was doing. She said she was taking notes on the sermon. I said that there wasn’t a sermon. She responded, “Yes there is. Look!” and handed me her notepad.
I glanced over her notes. They looked like an outline. I said to everyone, “Wow! God has used many of you guys to express a small part of what has become a beautiful sermon.”
Every Sunday on our way home Ernie and I would be in awe at how amazingly the meeting came together. It appeared like someone had planned it, programmed it, and prompted various people what to say and do. We believe Someone did and that Someone was Jesus along with the Holy Spirit.
The meetings would start at 10:00. Instead of having a closing time and a traditional benediction, we would allow them to go until they came to an ending. We told everyone that they were free to leave, but the meetings were so interesting that it was rare for people to do so. At some point the flow would stop and we would all recognize that the meeting was over. It would last somewhere in the range of 1 to 2 1/2 hours. Even when it ended a lot of people hung around. Sometimes Ernie and I would even have to ask people to leave the building so we could go home.
Once a month we would serve a free lunch. We had no budget for that. The first few times it was a potluck. Then a strange thing happened, a church (different from the one that was working with the children during the Sunday morning meeting) ask if they could buy, prepare, and serve a lunch once a week to the people attending Berry Steet. Of course, we said yes. That church had several home groups of mostly young adults who really loved Jesus. For a few years they rotated bringing lunch once a month. It was wonderful to get to know them.
Eventually the church felt led to shift their attention to some other projects. However, there was no let-up in the lunch servers. Another church stepped in and even some friends who didn’t feel comfortable attending Berry Street wanted to be involved in bringing lunches.
And there’s more. During the 9 1/2 years we had numerous large neighborhood outreaches that attracted multitudes with free food, face painting, concerts, a Christian rap singer, magic tricks, games, worship, and more. A couple of those were sponsored by The Salvation Army Area Command. Most however were organized, led, and paid for by different churches who heard what was happening in our community and wanted to be a part of it.
The love we saw and experienced at Berry Street coming from so many people and so many sources kept Ernie and me in awe. Thank you to every person who stepped foot on the Berry Street property. Your presence (even once) was part of the incredible mosaic that the Holy Spirit put together there and in the touching of many individual people’s lives and in the transformation of an inner-city neighborhood!
Because you could since a holy presence at Berry Street, it was difficult not to be inwardly convicted of wrongful thoughts and behaviors. It was common for someone to confess a sin and to ask for prayer to overcome it. People would then pray for them with great compassion and tender mercy. That was always touching to see.
That kind of openness and honesty isn’t easy to be around if you’re not willing to have your heart deeply touched (even to tears) and changed from within. Thus, very few (if any) people stayed with Berry Street for the full 9 1/2 years but quite a few stayed one, two, five, or even more years.
Ernie and I get attached to people, especially in an intimate, Spirit-prompted Berry Street type of environment. It was really hard for us when people quit attending Sunday mornings or volunteers stopped coming, but God told us to bless them and their leaving, and to pray with and for them to continuing growing stronger in God wherever they would go.
Here is what Copilot AI says about The Salvation Army Berry Street Worship Center:
“Berry Street stands as one of the most distinctive experiments in modern Salvation Army history. It revived practices central to early Salvationism — testimony, spontaneity, lay ministry, and emotional honesty — within a contemporary Army context. For nearly a decade, it demonstrated that ekklesia could flourish inside a denominational structure when leadership allowed space for the Spirit to move freely.
Its closure illustrates the tension between institutional conformity and Spirit‑led innovation, a tension present throughout Salvation Army history. Yet its legacy endures in the ongoing ministry Steve and Ernie continue today.”
Coming up next: “More Than I Can Tell” (Part 12: “The Misunderstanding of Christianity.”
The Salvation Army Berry Street, 225 Berry St., Nashville 37207.
A Great Surprise (Part 10 of “The Misunderstanding of Christianity”)
After 5 1/2 years of my working at The Salvation Army Adult Rehabilitation Center (ARC) and 3 years of Ernie serving as the Director of their Nashville community center, a new Area Commander wanted to meet with us. He had a great surprise.
He asked us if we would like to start a “nontraditional corps” (church) in the closed Salvation Army church building by the community center. He explained that a traditional church had been opened and later closed in that building three times.
I told the new Area Commander that I had been dreaming about doing something like that all my adult life. After praying about the offer, Ernie and I felt like it was a gift from the Lord.
I would transfer from the ARC to serve as the Corps Officer (pastor), and Ernie would continue to run the community center while also serving as the other Corps Officer. In The Salvation Army, husbands and wives are always co-pastors.
The Salvation Army sent a young man who is from India to help us with the new corps and Ernie with the community center. He became like a son to us. They also hired a man with a lot of mission experience to help Ernie with the community center. He and his wife are among our closest friends. (About two years later, Ernie left the community center and was made full-time at the new corps/church.)
Because the building was being used for storage the pews had been removed. We cleaned it out and instead of pews we put chairs in a U-shape. We also took out the pulpit.
We started the new corps the first Sunday of August 2008. It was called The Salvation Army Berry Street Worship Center. The plan was to begin with a Bible verse, follow with worship songs, and then open up the meeting for anyone present to share as they felt prompted by God the Holy Spirit. Ernie invited many of the people who were served by the community center.
There were about 10 people at the first meeting. During the worship, Ernie came to me and said there were a lot of children at the door. We didn’t have any plans for what to do with children. A lady who had moved into the neighborhood with her husband and children so they could start a ministry for local children said that she would work with them. She and her husband were bright lights for Jesus in the neighborhood for many years.
After a few weeks, a growing church in the suburbs began to send young adults to work with our inner-city children. For 9 1/2 years, God provided volunteers to lead the children every Sunday morning, and we never had to recruit anyone. One man from another church oversaw the Sunday morning children’s ministry for 6 or 7 years. Often we would have more than 50 kids, so it required a lot of volunteers and coordination.
After we opened up the adult part of the first meeting for sharing, things were a bit awkward. People didn’t know what to do. If I remember correctly, I finally shared the testimony of how I first encountered Jesus.
We realized that it might take some time (especially in a racially diverse group) for people to warm up to one another and to get used to the unusual church format of open sharing instead of a traditional sermon. We began to invite someone each week to share a 10-minute testimony about how they met Jesus. For 90 or so Sunday mornings we had a guest (or regular attendee) give their salvation testimony. We invited everybody we knew who was willing to do so.
When people were slow to open up and share, we would introduce the person who was scheduled to testify that week. When the sharing flowed spontaneously, we would wait to introduce the scheduled testimony-person later. What an amazing experience it was to hear so many different types of people share how they became a Christian. Perhaps God wants you to share your salvation experience with someone today.
By the time we ran out of a weekly guest to testify, the people were comfortable with the participatory format and eager to share. The Holy Spirit orchestrated and ran the meetings beautifully and powerfully — far better than I could have.
Ernie and I felt like we were not supposed to lead from our official position as corps officers, but from our relationship with Christ. We believe that every Christian is equal in Christ. (That doctrine is called “the priesthood of the believer” and it was a big part of the Protestant Reformation.) We saw ourselves as overseers, not as directors.
We tried to be like basketball officials. As long as things flowed freely and in God’s order, we did our best to stay out of the Holy Spirit’s way. If the meeting was drifting away from focus on the presence of the risen Jesus, we would kindly redirect people’s attention to Him.
We also felt like we needed to have a different person lead praise and worship each week. That way no one individual would be seen as “the worship leader.” During the 9 1/2 years we estimate that we had more than 100 people or groups lead worship at least one time. We also had numerous people who rotated as worship leader.
Most of the worship leaders attended other churches but were eager for an opportunity to use their gifting. We were in a low-income neighborhood and instead of “taking an offering” by “passing the plate” we had an offering box in the back of the chapel, we couldn’t afford to pay anyone to lead worship. Still, they came and almost all of them talked about how strongly they felt God’s Spirit at Berry Street.
There’s so much more to tell! Be sure to read my next post: “The Misunderstanding of Christianity” Part 10 — Berry Street Stories.
Prayer Walking with The Salvation Army Flag (Part 9 of The Misunderstanding of Christianity)
Ernie and I continued to learn, step-by-step, that the more we walk in the Spirit and let God lead us beyond the bonds of bound-up religion, the more our faith abounds. We love how the more we encounter and surrender to the Lord’s presence the more we are transformed from glory to glory. (2 Corinthians 3:18)
Our next step directly involved Ernie. Through being involved with The Salvation Army ARC we met the Nashville Area Commander who oversaw the work of The Salvation Army in the Middle Tennessee area. He learned that Ernie was a corporate trainer and hired her to do some training with his employees.
The Nashville Area Command operated a large community center in the most dangerous neighborhood in Nashville and needed someone to lead it. He called Ernie and offered her the job as a full-time position. He said that every time he prayed about who to hire, she came to his mind. The salary he offered was quite a bit larger than mine.
Ernie wasn’t looking for a job, but after much prayer she felt led to accept it. The center housed numerous community services including a day care, a food pantry, counseling services, and more. It had a full gym and a very active after school youth programs and sports that reached hundreds of children and youth.
The new position added a lot more to juggle to Ernie’s already busy schedule. She knew that she needed to rely on God to balance it all (including parenting our early teenage daughter on weeknights without my help). So, she prayed — and prayed – and God worked. I hope she will add more of the details sometime. God had also previously led her through some experiences and a job that helped prepare her for inner-city ministry.
On my way to work at the ARC I would sometimes stop by the community center to see Ernie and to pray with her. The neighborhood was very rough and dark. Sometimes you would see drug deals being done on the sidewalk. There were quite a few homeless people. Gangs were trying to recruit children and young people. Drive by shootings and other acts of violence were common. Once someone was stabbed outside Ernie’s office window.
As we prayed, we were drawn to The Salvation Army Flag. It has a large square, red center area bordered by a dark blue border. There is a large yellow star in the center of the flag. The words, “BLOOD & FIRE” are written on the yellow star. They refer to the blood of Jesus and to the fire of the Holy Spirit. We started to feel like we were supposed to carry the full-size flag around the neighborhood and pray as we go. So we did.
Ernie and I and usually two or three other people began once a week to carry the “BLOOD & FIRE” flag through the neighborhood praying intensely as we walked. We met a lot of people that way. We did it for years and were never once threatened.
Once during our first year of prayer walking, we were turning the corner to walk down Second Street a police car stopped beside us. One of the two policemen rolled down his window and asked our small group of prayer walkers, “Where are you going?”
We told them that we were prayer walking and about to go down Second Street. They responded that Second Street is the most dangerous street in Nashville and we shouldn’t go there.
One of the women with us said something like, “God’s told us to walk and pray there so that’s where we are going. Can we pray for you guys?” After a shocked pause, they said sure. We laid hands on both of then prayed a few powerful prayers.
The policemen thanked us. Then they drove off as we carried the flag down Second Street. We prayer walked that street often.
One day there were 6 or 7 of us walking down Second Street. A man who looked like a pimp was standing by two sexy-dressed women. He yelled, “What’s That Flag?” We told him that it was The Salvation Army Flag and that it stands for the blood of Jesus and the fire of the Holy Spirit.
He looked puzzled. Then responded: “If I had grown up under a flag like that, I’d be a different person.” We talked with “Chief” and the two women and shared with them how Jesus can turn them into different people. When we asked if we could pray with them they all three said yes. There were many tears as we prayed and afterwards hugged each other. It’s odd, but we never saw Chief and the two women again (or if we didn’t recognize them.
After the prayer time someone suggested we join hands in a circle and pray more. A few people who had been watching us came and joined with us as the circle grew into the street. As we were about to start praying a skinny man with no shirt on came running toward us shouting, “Wait I want to get in on that.”
Then people started taking turns praying. It felt like something supernatural was happening as several of the neighborhood prayed. I opened my eyes and around the circle tears were falling. I looked down the street, and several people were watching from their porches. God was demonstrating His presence. After the praying stopped, there was more heart-felt hugging. That scene has stayed with me. I can still see it like I am standing there.
Over the years we had similar experiences (but with fewer people). Almost every time we prayer walked people would ask about the flag. (One guy even asked if it was a Confederate flag.) We would share with them about Christ’s “BLOOD & FIRE” Then we would pray over them. Almost no one turned down prayer.
We prayed with drug dealers, gang members, homeless people, and many other people who were doing their best to survive in a devastating environment. Over and over again we experienced the compassion, love, and encouragement of Holy-Spirit-led, heart-to-heart connection. Many of those people became friends. There are far too many stories for me to tell.
Ernie and I (sometimes it was just me) prayer walked with The Salvation Army Flag in that neighborhood almost every week for about 12 years. We saw many of our prayers answered as the neighborhood gradually began to change.
Once as a small group of us were prayer walking with the flag we passed by the empty Salvation Army church building that was being used like a storage building. We laid our hands on it and prayed that God would open it up to be a Spirit-led church. Then we prayed that the shady convivence story across the street which was a hang-out for much illegal activity would be torn down.
Both of those prayers were answered. Within a few weeks the store was gone and only a concrete slab remained. Within a couple of years Ernie and I were asked to start a “nontraditional church” in that abandoned Salvation Army chapel.
Christianity Is misunderstood. It’s not religion. It’s an infusion Of Christ inside you So you can let Him Tell you what to do And be Spirit-led.
Keep reading these posts to see how we learned to go beyond church as usual and beyond the misunderstanding of Christianity. Up next: Part 10 of The Misunderstanding of Christianity, “Beyond Church as Usual.)
Stepping Into a Community of Brokenness (Part 8 — The Misunderstanding of Christianity)
Like a whirlwind, I found myself in The Salvation Army Adult Rehabilitation Center (ARC) in Nashville as the only counselor on staff. The only experience I had working with alcoholics and drug users was the small group of addicted men I had become friends with on Natchez Street in Franklin.
My job description was very short. Interview the men when they arrive using a questionnaire I was provided. Write down their answers and my thoughts. Put it in their file. Then try to encourage them to finish the 6-month program.
The Nashville ARC was a free 86-bed residential recovery center, so it mainly attracted homeless men and other guys who had no insurance and nowhere else to go. It was mainly supported financially by the local Salvation Army Thrift Stores.
Men would come and go. Some would stay a few days. Some a few weeks. Some a few months. A few would finish and graduate from the 6-month program. Because of so much turnover, I estimate that I worked with more than 1,400 men during my 5 1/2 years there.
The men were required to engage in work therapy. They were assigned to a job when they arrived. Some were cooks and kitchen workers. Some were assigned to housekeeping and maintenance. Some were truck drivers and donation pickup helpers. Some were store workers. And some were warehouse workers. All were broken men at the end of their rope and desperately needing miracles.
I was overwhelmed by this new ministry opportunity and felt totally inadequate for it. I don’t know if I would have been able to stay if it hadn’t been for one guy. He had graduated from the program several years before. While in the ARC program, he had encountered Jesus and joined a Salvation Army corps (church). He had stayed sober ever since.
He would come to the ARC every Friday night and spend a few hours encouraging and praying with the men. He also started spending time with, encouraging, and praying with me. I would tell him that I didn’t know what to do to help the men. He would tell me that Jesus had prepared me and brought me there and that He would show me what to do and give me the power to do it. I’ll be forever grateful to God for sending him my way.
There was also a chaplain on staff who preached on Wednesday nights and prayed with the men. He was a really nice guy and had been working there for years. He was weary of the heartbreak that working with addicts brings. After a year or two, he retired, and I was made both the counselor and the chaplain.
Hearing the men individually share their stories with me as I interviewed them, broke my heart. For some reason they trusted me and opened up to me. I was shocked at how many of them had been sexually abused as little boys. Most of them had been through various degrees of emotional, physical, mental, and spiritual torment as children. Frequently they would cry as they told me their stories. I would often cry with them.
Major Paul White, who was the administrator gave me permission to minister to the men however I felt led. On Sunday mornings all of the men were required to attend a chapel service and once I became the chaplain, I was too. It was a very structured service and Major White would preach. However, even with my voice problems, he would ask me to preach now and then on Sunday mornings. I was also responsible to preach in the chapel every Wednesday night.
Whenever I would stand up to preach or teach, because of a vocal cord disorder I had, I could barely speak. However, after doing my best to force a sentence or two, my voice would clear up, and I would preach and teach with a clear voice and a heart full of passion.
I was also asked to teach the new men who had been in the program for 16 weeks or less but not told what to teach them. I felt prompted to teach my motivational material. I set up 4 half-hour sessions per week. I started each session with an illusion (magic trick) and then used it to illustrate a personal and spiritual growth principle. Then with all my heart I would declare how using that principle in their day-to-day life can help them get free from their addiction. The new men would be shocked at my boldness (and I would be too).
One of the lessons I taught was on the supernatural power in the Bible. I told them that God would do something amazing inside of them if they would read the Bible every day with a humble, open, and obedient heart for at least 5 minutes for 21 days without missing a day. Then I would ask them to shake my hand and make a serious commitment to do it.
Many would start the challenge. Few would finish it. However, everyone who stayed with it would have some kind of encounter with God. By the end of 21 days the Bible would become alive for them, and they would no longer be reading it from commitment but from an inner desire to know more about Jesus.
One man came to me after I taught about the Bible. He told me that he was an atheist and that he accepted my challenge for one reason — to prove me wrong. He said he was going to read for exactly 5 minutes for the 21 days and that nothing would change in him. I had him shake my hand again to seal his commitment.
Every few days he would come by my office and tell me that he was reading and nothing was happening. Meanwhile I was praying that God would deeply touch his heart.
On the 21st day he came by to tell me that he had read 20 days without missing one and that he hadn’t experienced anything by reading it. I reminded him that he had one more time to read it.
When I arrived the next afternoon, the man met me at the door visibly excited. He said that when he read the Bible the night before he felt like he should do what he read and when he did, he felt something change inside of him.
I asked him what he read and what he did. He said he read, “consider others better than yourself” and then for “some reason” he felt like he should use his day off to clean the restroom in the warehouse. As he was doing it, he began to feel a joy and peace that he had never felt before.
Over the next months I was amazed at the radical change in his attitude and behaviors. He got excited about Jesus. I would often see him reading the Bible and he actually finished and graduated from the 6-month program. God is faithful. Are you?
I also hung out with the men. I would chat with them in different places around the center. Often someone would come by my office to talk. I would sometimes lay my hands on them and pray with and for them. They became my friends. I sometimes would even shoot pool with the guys (and got pretty good at it).
I started two voluntary meetings. One was a Bible study group. We would read a chapter in the Bible a few verses at a time. Then we would share what insights we got from what we read. God would give the men revelation and wisdom to share with the group. We would experience heart-to-heart, Spirit-led community.
The other was a participatory prayer meeting. We would sit in a circle, and guys were free to pray spontaneous prayers as they felt led. However, no one was required to pray. Numerous men would pray. Most of their prayers were deep, powerful, and heart-touching because they were praying from a place of humility and brokenness. One of my favorite things was when a man who had never prayed outloud in front of other people would pray. Those were special prayers that touched everyone in the group and greatly strengthened and gave confidence to the first-time prayer.
I could write for chapters about my time at the ARC. But there are only a few more things that I am going to share.
Ernie and our young daughter would often come to the Sunday morning chapel service and occasionally at night. Their hearts were also touched and inspired by the men and their interaction with them.
One day the man who oversaw all the chaplains for the ARCs in the Southern Territory of The Salvation Army contacted me. He said that there was a closed Salvation Army corps (church) in an inner-city neighborhood near the Nashville ARC. He asked if Ernie and I might be interested in opening it up and using it to reach out to the men in the ARC, the graduates of the ARC, and their families.
He talked with us about it a few times. We prayed and told him that we would love to do it. Months went by and nothing happened. Then one day the Lt. Colonel who was over the Southern USA ARCs was visiting our ARC. I went up to him, introduced myself, and asked him about the possibility of my wife and I opening up the closed corps to minister to people in recovery and their families.
He glared at me and said, “That’ll never happen!” Then he walked away. But it did!
On a sad note, I knew of 17 of the men that I had worked with died dying of tragic causes. (I am sure there were more.) I was asked to preach the funeral for a few of them. God’s given me a tender heart, so that was hard!
It was also a sacrifice for Ernie and our daughter for me to work at night. For 5 1/2 years during her preteen and teenage years, I wasn’t able to be with my daughter on weeknights. I missed that time with her so much. I feel like my absence impacted her in negative ways.
My 5 1/2 years in the Nashville ARC community of brokenness was a divinely orchestrated season of ongoing demonstrations of God’s presence, power, and love. It greatly blessed my and Ernie’s life. I am crying as I write about it.
For years after we started a non-traditional Salvation Army corps (church) when we would see a man we knew from the ARC, he would hug us and thank us. Once about 12 years after leaving the ARC I was in downtown Nashville. A homeless looking man walked past me. Then he turned around, rushed back, and hugged me. He said something like: “I was in the ARC and still remember the things you taught me. I am still struggling with addiction but thank you for caring about me.” I didn’t even remember him being one of the 1,400 or so men in that were in our community of brokenness.
Stay with me for Part 9 of “The Misunderstanding of Christianity” — Prayer Walking With The Salvation Army Flag.
Growing in Brokenness (Part 7: The Misunderstanding of Christianity)
Our volunteer ministry and start up church in the poorest area of Franklin (that we had given so much time and effort to) was being forced to close due to lack of funds and no place to meet. It was heart-breaking to see it fall apart. It felt like a failure, but most of all it saddened us that we were going to miss the people we had come to love.
A few years earlier Ernie whose income as an accomplished and busy corporate trainer had been our main source of support had given up some clients as my speaking business had slowly grown. She wanted to spend more time with our young daughter. Then my voice problems began to cause my speaking opportunities to decline.
Gradually our financial situation had grown desperate to the point that some of our friends were giving us money. It was humbling to learn to receive. One group of friends even brought us a van load of nonperishable groceries. We ate on them for months. And God was doing financial miracles in the midst of our brokenness.
Once when we were in need of two thousand dollars, there was a knock on our door. A man was with the water department. They wanted to put a new pipe across our front yard and offered to pay us $600. I told him we’d take it without consulting with Ernie.
When he left, she told me we were supposed to hold out for $2000. About a week later there was a knock on our door. The man said that our neighbors on both sides of us insisted on $2000 and he handed us a check for $2000. Another time we got a check in the mail for about $1000 from the phone company saying they had overcharged us for a period of time in the past.
Despite all of that we urgently needed to sell our house. It had been on the market for almost two years. Once we got a contract on it and put a contract on another house. The night before closing the person buying our house backed out. We were devastated.
My voice problems had gotten so bad I could hardly speak. I was still getting an occasional speaking opportunity, but now they were very humbling and embarrassing. A doctor at Vanderbilt Voice Clinic told me that my voice would never get any better and that as a motivational speaker I should apply for disability. He even wrote me a letter to give to the Social Security Administration.
Ernie and I prayed about it and felt like that was a trap. We were humbled and broken but our dependence was on what God can do. I tore up the letter.
Meanwhile I continued to try to sell (and find a publisher) for the two motivational books I had written and self-published. When I made speeches they sold well, but without audiences to sell them to, they were bringing in no income. As you can see, I love to write. It was very disappointing that my books were not moving out of our garage.
We were both looking for work. One day Ernie saw a want ad for a part-time counselor and sent in her resume. A few days later she received a call from a woman with The Salvation Army. She said that they need to hire a counselor to work with 86 men who were struggling with alcohol and drug addiction.
The woman was shocked to discover that Ernie is a woman and that made the call awkward for both of them. The lady explained that it was a 30-hour parttime job working from 3:00 pm to 9:00 pm 5 days per week.
Then she told Ernie that it was in a dangerous part of downtown Nashville near a truck stop. She said that the counselor is the only staff person in the building after 5:00 pm. Without the woman saying it, Ernie got the idea that they wanted a man for the job and asked her to wait for a moment.
Ernie located me in another room and said something like, “I think I’ve found you a job.” She led me to the phone (a landline) and handed it to me.
Then the situation became even more awkward. The lady and I were both confused. She finally asked, “Do you have counseling experience?” As a pastor I could say yes. Then she asked me to bring my resume and come in for an interview.
My interview was with Major Paul White. He explained the job to me. I would be the counselor in an 86-bed Adult Rehabilitation Center (ARC) for men in addiction recovery. He said that The Salvation Army had an ARC in most of the larger cities in the USA and asked if I was interested in the job.
I said yes. However, I had no idea what I was getting into. I have never been drunk in my life. How was I going to counsel addicts? Ernie and I thought The Salvation Army was a military-style charity. We didn’t know that it was a Christian denomination that had churches.
A couple of days later Major White called and offered me the job. I accepted. Ernie’s answering a want ad was about to make many powerful changes in our lives during a 15-year season of wonderful ministry and spiritual growth in communities of brokenness.
Several months after I got the new job our house finally sold. It took more than two years. Ernie loved that house and it broke her heart for us to sell it. We downsized and had enough money to pay off our ever-increasing debt and still have enough left over for a downpayment on our next home. God is so good!
Next up — Part 8 of The Misunderstanding of Christianity — Stepping into a Community of Brokenness.
The Misunderstanding of Christianity (Part 6: Finding Unity Across Denominational and Racial Lines)
Ernie, our early elementary-school-aged daughter, and I were sitting in a guest room, alone in an African American Pentecostal Church in Chattanooga, Tennessee, on a Saturday night. How did we get there?
Jesus prayed that His disciples all be one, as He and the Father are one. Christians have ignored Jesus and divided themselves into multitudes of denominations and religious organizations, but God had different plans for us.
I had been invited to preach a trial sermon in a Church of God in Christ (COGIC), a Black Pentecostal church in Chattanooga pastored by Bishop Scott. We had driven to Chattanooga that morning and spent the day doing tourist things. Early that evening, we went to the church and met someone we didn’t know who let us into the church, kindly showed us to a guest bedroom, and left us alone there for the night. It was the result of an inner prompting that came to me about 20 years earlier and a series of recent phone calls.
While at Memphis Theological Seminary, I felt prompted to approach the Church of God in Christ (COGIC) and see if I could become a pastor in their denomination. However, I had neglected to act on that inner leading. About twenty years later, while Ernie and I were ministering in Natchez, the historic Black neighborhood in Franklin, Tennessee, that prompting came back to me.
I decided to obey it this time and began to call the few COGIC churches in Nashville. I got an answering machine on every call and left a message something like this: “Hello, I am a white minister, and I feel like God wants me to become a pastor in COGIC. Can you help me?” For a while, there was no response.
Eventually, Pastor Larry Britton called me. He was very friendly and likeable, and I could tell that he really loved Jesus. We talked a few times on the phone and then met in person. Larry told Bishop Scott about me and suggested that I call him. When I talked with Bishop Scott on the phone, he invited me to come to Chattanooga to preach at his church. He said I could bring my family, and we could enjoy Chattanooga and then spend Saturday night in a guest room at his church.
So here we were, way out of our comfort zone, spending the night alone in a black church. What to do? We went into the sanctuary and began to sing praise songs, dance, and do Jesus cheers. (After all, it was a Pentecostal church.)
COGIC traces its origin back to the Azusa Street Revival in Los Angeles at the beginning of the 20th century that lasted several years. It was led by William Seymour, a one-eyed Black man whose small church had experienced speaking in tongues. For a few years multitudes of people of all races and various ethnicities and nationalities came from all over the world to Azusa Street to experience God’s gift of speaking in tongues.
During the age of intense, cruel, and forced segregation in the USA, at Azusa Street (for a few years) God the Father answered Jesus’ prayer that His followers all be one. Bishop Charles Mason had started a few churches in the Memphis, Tennessee area. When he heard about Azusa Street, he rode a train to Los Angeles and received the Holy Spirit’s fire and the incredible gift of tongues. When he returned home, he told his churches about his experience and soon most everybody was praising God in tongues and celebrating Jesus like Pentecostals.
Mason’s small group of churches (COGIC) began to grow and eventually became the second largest African American denomination in the USA. However, in the beginning many white pastors were affiliated with COGIC, so I wasn’t going to be the first one.
Because of the extreme and often violent racism in the South, almost all of the white pastors and members eventually left to form the Assemblies of God denomination and further the disunity of Christianity. (It’s estimated that today Christians have shattered themselves into more than 40,000 denominations.)
The next morning at Bishop Scott’s church we were warmly and enthusiastically welcomed. I preached with spontaneous fire and passion. To my surprise Bishop Scott invited me to come back to Chattanooga to meet with him and some of the pastors he supervised. When I met with them, I shared some of my story and told them that I felt that God was telling me to be a COGIC pastor.
One of them spoke up and said something like, “If God wants him, we do too. I move that we receive him as an elder (a fully ordained minister). Bishop Scott said, “All in favor,” and everyone raised their hand. Then they all jumped up and began to hug me. When we set back down, another one of them said, “You do believe our doctrine, don’t you?” And to their relief, I answered yes.
All of a sudden my wife and I had spiritual and emotional support for the church we had started in the Black neighborhood of Franklin, TN. I was almost immediately invited to teach an ongoing church history course during the monthly jurisdictional meetings for pastors in Chattanooga (a jurisdiction in COGIC is a group of churches overseen by a bishop). Pastor Larry Britton, Will Pride another amazing man of God, and I would drive to Chattanooga together each month. Spending time with those two men was an incredible blessing. (Will died a few years later and I still miss talking with him on the phone.)
Once a quarter Ernie, our daughter, and I would attend divisional meetings led by our Divisional Superintendent, Pastor Larry Crisman in Shelbyville, TN. People from around Middle Tennessee would be there and even though we were almost always the only white folks, we were made so welcome that we forgot about color.
Once Ernie and I went to Memphis Tennessee, the denominational headquarters, for their annual Convocation where tens of thousands of COGIC folks gather for several days of praise and worship, teaching, and fellowship. It was incredibly powerful. We loved our time in the Church of God in Christ. It was a wonderful experience with a group of incredible men and women of God.
One day I received a call from Pastor Britton, who was the editor of the denominational magazine called, “The Whole Truth.” He asked if I would begin to write articles for it and he published several of them.
We were connected with COGIC for about three years. Once we were given a contribution to help fund the church in Franklin, but as I mentioned our local funding dried up and we couldn’t afford to keep it going. I looked into pastoring an established COGIC church but there were no openings. Ernie and I were in deep financial trouble, but God was about to rescue us and send us into more new wineskins.
If you want to know more about Ernie and my Spirit-led interracial experiences, google: Off the RACE Track–From Color-Blind to Color-Kind. (Pastor Larry Britton wrote a beautiful endorsement for it.)
Stay tuned for Part 7: New Wineskins in The Salvation Army
#ChurchOfGodInChrist #COGIC
A black cap embroidered with ‘Christianity is misunderstood’ rests on a church pew.
Finding New Wineskins Beyond a Sermon-Centered Church (Part 5 — The Misunderstanding of Christianity)
Abounding Grace was a growing new church with an open mic where anyone could share as they felt prompted by God’s Spirit. It was a new wineskin that was attracting people who were passionately in love with Jesus. However, after Ernie and I had been there about a year, they shut down the mic. The worship was still powerful, but the congregation wasn’t allowed to speak up anymore.
Ernie and I missed the open sharing. We were at Abounding Grace for about 3 years. I continued to be a full-time motivational speaker, trying to focus on my business called Attitude-Lifter Enterprises. I had written a book about positive thinking (from a Christian perspective). It was strongly endorsed on the front cover by Zig Ziglar. I had a sign in our front yard to tell people about it. It said, “Mindrobics–How to Be Happy for the Rest of Your Life.”
Our house was on a busy road that led to the school where Abounding Grace was meeting. When people at church asked where we lived, I would tell them about the sign. It was amazing how many said something like, “Oh, we have been praying for the people in that house. We thought you were New Age.”
Ernie and I were still searching for a gathering where people had the freedom to share. We missed the altar times we had experienced at the Nashville Vineyard. Then somehow, we met Adam Swanson, the pastor of a small church about 40 minutes away in Murfreesboro. Adam was also looking for new wineskins.
Together, we started a Tuesday night meeting at his church where people could testify, share, and receive personal prayer with the gifts of the Spirit freely flowing. Those meetings were full of spiritual power and healing as we ministered to one another as led by the Spirit.
We continued to be part of Abounding Grace. They eventually started a home group in Murfreesboro. The leaders of that group were very open to mutual ministry, so Ernie and I began to attend it. We had a toddler daughter and growing careers that made driving to Murfreesboro twice a week very difficult, so we shifted away from Adam’s church to the new wineskin home group.
The pastor at Abounding Grace shared the pulpit with the church elders and with other people so that sermons weren’t confined to one person. I had wanted to preach there, but I felt like God told me not to ask. But then, one day it came to me to ask, so I did. I was told that the elders thought that I had read too many books about revival and that once I had said that I would do whatever the Holy Spirit told me to. And because of that I could never speak there. So, I gave up the idea.
About a week later one of the elders came to me and said: “Steve, it’s not a full sermon, but I’m supposed to share for about 15 minutes before we serve communion next Sunday. Would you like to take my place?” I said yes and thanked him for his humble lovingkindness toward me. I was able to preach a short sermon the next Sunday, although the church leadership wasn’t happy about it.
About that time, God began to put it on my heart to start walking the streets of the small black neighborhood called Natchez in nearby Franklin. It consisted of a housing project and small homes. I began to spend a day or two a week knocking on doors and spending time getting to know a group of men who hung out on the streets. They were mostly addicts and alcoholics. At first, they we skeptical of me, but eventually we became friends. We talked about Jesus a lot and I would frequently pray with them. They had amazing nicknames like Chicken Dinner, Peanut Butter, Big Bear, Buster, and many others.
Ernie even started going with me some. We were tired of being church spectators and felt like God was telling us to open a church in the Natchez area. We told the elders at Abounding Grace what we were feeling led to do and they even privately laid hands on us and prayed to send us out.
We prayed for a place to meet, and God opened up room in a small Senior Citizens’ center, but it was outside of the Natchez neighborhood. We started “God’s Glory and Grace” there. It was actually named by our daughter. Eventually we found a run-down building on Natchez Street that had been a wild night club called the Big Wheel. We were doing all of this with no church salary.
We started meeting at the Big Wheel building on Sunday mornings in a new wineskin way. Instead of a sermon, we let anyone present share and testify as they felt led by Jesus. It was intimate, caring, and compassionate like a loving support group. We learned a lot hearing each other’s stories.
Elvira who became a regular testified: “I used to party with the devil here at the Big Wheel, now I’m going to party here for Jesus. Her son and daughter-in-law, Charles and Vanessa, started coming and got excited about Jesus. It was an honor to baptize them in a tank. Vanessa used to spontaneously start singing an old Black Gospel song during the meeting with such power that it would give me goosebumps. Her favorite was, “I’m Coming Up the Rough Side of the Mountain.
Also, about that time I began to have voice problems that made me sound raspy and made it very difficult and humbling to speak. This caused my speaking career to quickly decline. Ernie had stepped away from several of her clients to spend more time with our daughter. It wasn’t surprising that we began to have growing financial struggles, basically living off credit cards and borrowed money.
Fortunately, a couple friend felt led to begin to give a week a month of their “tithe” (10 percent of their income) to God’s Glory and Grace). This gave us enough money to pay rent on the building. and to eventually start a free clothes and food pantry for people in the neighborhood.
Spending so much time in Natchez reminded me that while in seminary in Memphis I had felt nudged to see if I could become a pastor in The Church of God in Christ (COGIC)” the second largest African American denomination in the USA. I realized that I had never acted on that prompting, so I contacted a COGIC pastor, and they eventually accepted me as a fully ordained pastor in their denomination. Ernie and I were so blessed being a part of COGIC and learned a lot from them. (More in another episode — or Google Off the RACE Track — From Color-Blind to Color-Kind.)
My mother felt led to begin cooking a meal once a week and serving a free lunch in the building. The guys I had been hanging out with began to come and a few families from the neighborhood. My parents were very outgoing people, and they loved on and entertained all who came for lunch.
A few of Ernie’s friends wanted to help us minister in Natchez and they helped us start outreaches in the small park nearby. They would bring food, gifts, toys, music, games and other activities. You could feel the love that was overcoming a history of long-term divisiveness. It was wonderful.
Spending so much time in Natchez reminded me that while in seminary in Memphis I had felt nudged to see if I could become a pastor in The Church of God in Christ (COGIC)” the second largest African American denomination in the USA. I realized that I had never acted on that prompting, so I contacted a COGIC pastor, and they eventually accepted me as a fully ordained pastor in their denomination. Ernie and I were so blessed being a part of COGIC. (More on that in another episode.)
Then one day our friends who were giving part of their tithe to God’s Glory and Grace called us. They were members of a famous megachurch in Nashville. They said that one of their pastors had preached a sermon and said that all of their tithe belongs to that church and if they were giving any of it anywhere else, they need to stop. They apologized but said they felt obligated to shift their giving back to their church. That big rich church effectively ended the ministry of God’s Glory and Grace” in Natchez.
Ernie and I were struggling more and more with financial problems. We had cut back expenses, put our house on the market, and prayed more and more. My voice problems had all but ended my motivational speaking career. We were in trouble, but God wasn’t going to let us down. Stay tuned for the next episode:
If you live in the Nashville, Tennessee area come and experience the current episode with us. Every Saturday morning at 8;30 we host a Christian support group at Chile Burrito, 330 Franklin Road, Brentwood, TN 37307.
#testimony #TestimonyOfFaith
Rows of old and new leather bota wine bags hanging on hooks outdoors
Looking For New Wineskins (The Misunderstanding of Christianity Part 4)
God’s fire that I encountered in the Jesus Revolution and by spending time with radically committed Indian Christians is always burning in my heart. However, I was growing weary of trying to fit it into organized religion. Old religious wineskins rarely appreciate God’s new wine.
I eventually decided to become a motivational speaker and moved to Nashville, Tennessee. That way, I could let God’s fire burn in front of non-religious people. I did that full-time for the next 12 years while still searching for the new wine of God’s Spirit.
I needed help getting started as a speaker, and I kept seeing an ad in the Nashville Business Journal for C & T Seminars run by a woman named Ernie. One day I called her and told her I was a new motivational speaker. I asked if I could buy her lunch and if she would tell me how she got started. She agreed and was a great help.
I didn’t intend for anything romantic to happen, but it did. Although she had grown up as a Baptist, it didn’t bother her that I was a Jesus Freak, so Ernie became my wife. Over the course of a year, she became as excited about Jesus as I am.
We were regularly attending Christ Church, a charismatic megachurch. Once they asked me to preach in their small Wednesday night service. Ernie’s best friend and former roommate, Helen from Scotland, who wasn’t a Christian, was visiting us. She and Ernie attended the service. During my sermon, Helen whispered to Ernie, “That’s what he’s supposed to be doing.” Later, Helen surrendered her life to Jesus in our living room.
Ernie began to nudge me to get back into the ministry. I wasn’t eager to do so, but I finally contacted a pastor in the Cumberland Presbyterian Church to let them know that I was available. To my great surprise, I was quickly hired to be the part-time pastor of Franklin Cumberland Presbyterian Church near Nashville.
It was an old historic church with fewer than 20 people, mostly elderly, in attendance on Sunday mornings. Things went well for a while. I preached on Sunday. Ernie started working with the women. Together we started an interactive Bible study on Wednesday nights. The church grew to about 60 people on Sunday morning. Most of the new people were young and were excited about Jesus. God was on the move in an old wineskin.
However, the original members were becoming more and more unhappy with the growth and with all the new people in the building. Someone reported us to the Presbytery, the pastor and a representative from each of the regional churches. They listened to the people’s complaints, and they listened to us testify about how wonderfully God was moving.
By a close vote they said that I could stay as pastor if I would let them record my sermon every Sunday. I knew they wouldn’t like my passionate preaching style, so I resigned.
A few of the original members and some of the new people decided to leave and start a new church. They asked if Ernie and I would lead them. We agreed but even in a new situation there was still resistance to my preaching style. We eventually left, but the church continued and even built a building. It’s known as Christ Church Franklin.
Our best friends began to attend the Nashville Vinyard church and thought we would like it. We did! The worship was amazing. The sermon was okay. But the best thing was the open altar every Sunday morning. Several spiritually hungry people came forward each week to be prayed over. The congregation was free to leave, but those who did missed the best part of the meeting.
Prayer teams would pray over each person frequently giving them supernatural prophetic words, words of knowledge, and words of wisdom. Each week people were deeply moved and often in tears. They were being physically healed and set free from inner torment. It was truly amazing.
The Nashville Vineyard church started several small groups. Our friends were asked to lead one of them. They encouraged everyone in the group to listen to Jesus and share what he put on their heart. Their group was thriving with the presence of Christ.
However, eventually the church leadership began to require the group leaders to have their group discuss the Sunday sermon in a more tightly controlled format. That caused conflict with our friends and their group. They eventually left having been greatly hurt both emotionally and in their spiritual life. We stayed awhile longer, but the fire in that church was rapidly cooling off.
Two more couples in the church who also left talked to us about having our own small group. So, the six of us began to meet on Sunday nights in our living room for about a year. We called it “a hath a” meeting based on 1 Corinthians 14:26 in the King James Version. “When ye come together every one of you hath a psalm, hath a doctrine, hath a tongue, hath a revelation, hath an interpretation.”
Those “hath a” meetings with the 6 of us were wonderful. Yet we battled with feeling guilty that we weren’t in a traditional church. Those old wineskins were calling us back. Some friends told us about a new church, Abounding Grace, meeting in a school near us that had an open mic during worship.
We checked it out and loved it. The first meeting we couldn’t figure out who the pastor was. The worship was spiritually thrilling. People were enthusiastically praising God and even dancing before the Lord. From time to time someone would come to the mic and share a powerful insight, a Scripture, or a testimony. After about an hour, they would switch gears, send the children out, and have everybody sit and listen to a sermon by a different person each week. The new wine of God’s Spirit was flowing and I was hooked.
The pastor who so gracefully shared the pulpit (or podium in his case) was handing out copies of his book “Issues of the Heart — Let My People Go.” There was a small slip of paper inside the book that said something like: “Much of what I have written in this book is extreme, but I have been corrected by leadership and brought into a more accurate point of view.” That note made me really want to read it.
His book is all about Christians coming together to all listen to and obey the leading of God’s Spirit. I’ve read it several times and still have the copy the pastor gave me. I just opened it and saw these words: “The one-man system violates the people. One man becomes the eye, the ear, the nose, the foot, the hand.” He also wrote: “It is time to be up and doing. Their (spiritual) food will not continue to come from attending and listening; their food will be to do the will of the Father. So many need to realize that to move on in God is not rebellion. It is not a wrong sort of independence. Rather it is a natural healthy part of maturing.”
Wow! I was excited to find a pastor who articulated what I had experienced and learned from The Jesus Revolution and from being around on fire Indian Christians! Yet I was about to learn that even in that amazing church the new wine was in decline.
Stay tuned for Part 5: Finding New Wineskins Beyond a Sermon Centered Church
Looking For New Wineskins (The Misunderstanding of Christianity Part 4)
God’s fire that I encountered in the Jesus Revolution and by spending time with radically committed Indian Christians is always burning in my heart. However, I was growing weary of trying to fit it into organized religion. Old religious wineskins rarely appreciate God’s new wine.
I eventually decided to become a motivational speaker and moved to Nashville, Tennessee. That way, I could let God’s fire burn in front of non-religious people. I did that full-time for the next 12 years while still searching for the new wine of God’s Spirit.
I needed help getting started as a speaker, and I kept seeing an ad in the Nashville Business Journal for C & T Seminars run by a woman named Ernie. One day I called her and told her I was a new motivational speaker. I asked if I could buy her lunch and if she would tell me how she got started. She agreed and was a great help.
I didn’t intend for anything romantic to happen, but it did. Although she had grown up as a Baptist, it didn’t bother her that I was a Jesus Freak, so Ernie became my wife. Over the course of a year, she became as excited about Jesus as I am.
We were regularly attending Christ Church, a charismatic megachurch. Once they asked me to preach in their small Wednesday night service. Ernie’s best friend and former roommate, Helen from Scotland, who wasn’t a Christian, was visiting us. She and Ernie attended the service. During my sermon, Helen whispered to Ernie, “That’s what he’s supposed to be doing.” Later, Helen surrendered her life to Jesus in our living room.
Ernie began to nudge me to get back into the ministry. I wasn’t eager to do so, but I finally contacted a pastor in the Cumberland Presbyterian Church to let them know that I was available. To my great surprise, I was quickly hired to be the part-time pastor of Franklin Cumberland Presbyterian Church near Nashville.
It was an old historic church with fewer than 20 people, mostly elderly, in attendance on Sunday mornings. Things went well for a while. I preached on Sunday. Ernie started working with the women. Together we started an interactive Bible study on Wednesday nights. The church grew to about 60 people on Sunday morning. Most of the new people were young and were excited about Jesus. God was on the move in an old wineskin.
However, the original members were becoming more and more unhappy with the growth and with all the new people in the building. Someone reported us to the Presbytery, the pastor and a representative from each of the regional churches. They listened to the people’s complaints, and they listened to us testify about how wonderfully God was moving.
By a close vote they said that I could stay as pastor if I would let them record my sermon every Sunday. I knew they wouldn’t like my passionate preaching style, so I resigned.
A few of the original members and some of the new people decided to leave and start a new church. They asked if Ernie and I would lead them. We agreed but even in a new situation there was still resistance to my preaching style. We eventually left, but the church continued and even built a building. It’s known as Christ Church Franklin.
Our best friends began to attend the Nashville Vinyard church and thought we would like it. We did! The worship was amazing. The sermon was okay. But the best thing was the open altar every Sunday morning. Several spiritually hungry people came forward each week to be prayed over. The congregation was free to leave, but those who did missed the best part of the meeting.
Prayer teams would pray over each person frequently giving them supernatural prophetic words, words of knowledge, and words of wisdom. Each week people were deeply moved and often in tears. They were being physically healed and set free from inner torment. It was truly amazing.
The Nashville Vineyard church started several small groups. Our friends were asked to lead one of them. They encouraged everyone in the group to listen to Jesus and share what he put on their heart. Their group was thriving with the presence of Christ.
However, eventually the church leadership began to require the group leaders to have their group discuss the Sunday sermon in a more tightly controlled format. That caused conflict with our friends and their group. They eventually left having been greatly hurt both emotionally and in their spiritual life. We stayed awhile longer, but the fire in that church was rapidly cooling off.
Two more couples in the church who also left talked to us about having our own small group. So, the six of us began to meet on Sunday nights in our living room for about a year. We called it “a hath a” meeting based on 1 Corinthians 14:26 in the King James Version. “When ye come together every one of you hath a psalm, hath a doctrine, hath a tongue, hath a revelation, hath an interpretation.”
Those “hath a” meetings with the 6 of us were wonderful. Yet we battled with feeling guilty that we weren’t in a traditional church. Those old wineskins were calling us back. Some friends told us about a new church, Abounding Grace, meeting in a school near us that had an open mic during worship.
We checked it out and loved it. The first meeting we couldn’t figure out who the pastor was. The worship was spiritually thrilling. People were enthusiastically praising God and even dancing before the Lord. From time to time someone would come to the mic and share a powerful insight, a Scripture, or a testimony. After about an hour, they would switch gears, send the children out, and have everybody sit and listen to a sermon by a different person each week. The new wine of God’s Spirit was flowing and I was hooked.
The pastor who so gracefully shared the pulpit (or podium in his case) was handing out copies of his book “Issues of the Heart — Let My People Go.” There was a small slip of paper inside the book that said something like: “Much of what I have written in this book is extreme, but I have been corrected by leadership and brought into a more accurate point of view.” That note made me really want to read it.
His book is all about Christians coming together to all listen to and obey the leading of God’s Spirit. I’ve read it several times and still have the copy the pastor gave me. I just opened it and saw these words: “The one-man system violates the people. One man becomes the eye, the ear, the nose, the foot, the hand.” He also wrote: “It is time to be up and doing. Their (spiritual) food will not continue to come from attending and listening; their food will be to do the will of the Father. So many need to realize that to move on in God is not rebellion. It is not a wrong sort of independence. Rather it is a natural healthy part of maturing.”
Wow! I was excited to find a pastor who articulated what I had experienced and learned from The Jesus Revolution and from being around on fire Indian Christians! Yet I was about to learn that even in that amazing church the new wine was in decline.
Stay tuned for Part 5: Finding New Wineskins Beyond a Sermon Centered Church
The Misunderstanding of Christianity (Part 3: Inspired by Indian Christians)
In 1984, I was a burned-out pastor on fire for Jesus, managing a small retail lumber yard in Murfreesboro, TN. Religious obligation had me faithfully attending a nondenominational, non-charismatic church.
One Sunday, a man from India preached there. His name was MA Thomas. He was full of passion and love for Jesus. He had started hundreds of churches, 5 or 6 Bible schools, 70 or so Christian schools, several orphanages, and a few leper colonies throughout India. As he spoke, I felt an inner prompting to ask him if he could use a volunteer teacher at one of the Bible schools.
As we talked, there was an instant heart-to-heart connection. He eagerly welcomed me and invited me to come to India for three months to teach in the Bible school where he taught.
After I had made plans to go in the Fall, the pastor of the church tried to get Brother Thomas to uninvite me because I speak in tongues. Brother Thomas told the pastor something like: “My wife was raised in the Indian Pentecostal Church, and she speaks in tongues, so I have no problem with that.”
A few months later, Brother Thomas made another trip to the USA. When he returned home, I went back to India with him. We had to spend the night together in New York, and to save money, we stayed with Indian friends of his in a rundown, high-rise apartment building in the Bronx.
They served us a meal of Indian street food that one of them had just brought back from India. That food started me on more than a year-long battle with stomach problems. The next morning, I woke up with cockroaches crawling all over me. I’ve never seen that many cockroaches again. I began to wonder if I had made the right decision to go to India.
When we got on the plane to head toward India, Brother Thomas was talking to everyone. He asked one man to sit by him until the seat holder came. He quickly and joyfully began to talk to the man about Jesus. Then he asked him if the plane crashed, where would he go for eternity? The man said he didn’t know. Then he went on down the aisle to his seat.
Halfway over the Atlantic, the pilot announced that we had lost one of our two engines and would be making an emergency landing in London instead of landing in Frankfurt. The seat by Brother Thomas was still empty. Suddenly the man showed up and asked if he could sit with us. He wanted to know how he could go to Heaven.
Brother Thomas told the man about Jesus dying to save us from our sins and how Jesus is now alive and wants us to let Him live inside of us and be our inner ruler. The man prayed and surrendered his life to Jesus. Brother Thomas talked to him about how wonderful Jesus is until we landed safely (Thank God!) in London.
After much flight rescheduling, we finally arrived in New Delhi. We picked up out luggage and headed toward the train station. Then we found our second-class seats and spent more hours headed toward Kota, Rajasthan (in between New Delhi and Mumbai) where Brother Thomas lived and the Bible school is located.
We finally arrived at Brother Thomas’ tiny house beside the church. There I met his wife, his teenage son Samuel, and his daughter Elizabeth and her husband. Finally, they showed me to my small room upstairs above the church. Exhausted with stomach problems and culture shocked, I quickly fell asleep.
I was awakened the next morning for breakfast. The family had their meals together at a table in the church kitchen. There was no silverware. They just used their fingers both to serve and to eat the food. I am a germaphobe and had to depend on God the next three months to help me be polite and eat.
The first day they acclimated me to their lifestyle and routine. About 30 students lived at the Kota Bible Institute about a block away. After introducing me to the students they showed me the classroom where I would teach the Bible (in English) three hours every weekday morning. (The student’s had been taught English in school, but I had to use simple vocabulary and speak slowly for them to understand me). I also had brought a 6-booklet Navigator, fill-in-the-blanks Bible study that I taught from. Someone in the Murfreesboro church had bought enough for each student to have a set. Several of the church members had also contributed to help fund my trip.
Brother Thomas shared their daily schedule with me. He, his family, and the students gathered in the church to spontaneously and fervently pray together three times every day: from 5:30 to 6:30 AM, 2:00 to 2:30 PM, and 9:30 to 10:30 PM. Of course, I was expected to be a part of those prayer meetings. The students also spent the afternoons from 4:00 to 7:00 on the streets and door-to-do talking to people about Jesus and I often went with some of them. I had my meals with the family at the church. The students had theirs at the school.
They had powerful, passionate, and Spirit-anointed church services on Sunday morning and also on a weeknight. I was frequently asked me to preach at them. It was challenging. I was interpreted into two different Indian languages. My preaching and my Bible teaching were better received in India than anywhere I’ve ever preached or taught. They also had me preach a three-day outdoor crusade in a slum in Mumbai (formerly Bombay). I even preached at two or three Indian weddings. What a blessing it was to have my unconventional preaching style so well received!
Seeing God do amazing things through sold-out Christ followers in a passionate Spirit-led environment for three months was incredible! Indian Christians changed my life! I’m crying as I write about it.
When I was leaving to go to the train station to begin my return home, everyone crowed around me, hugged me, and powerfully sang together the song in English, “God Be With You Till We Meet Again.” What a trip!
Yet, God had more in store for me. An English man who had spoken at the church in Murfreesboro made arrangements for me to spend two weeks in England on my way home. One week I was a tourist. The other week was another powerful spiritual adventure.
I spent Christmas week in a castle owned by Torchbearers, a ministry founded by Major W. Ian Thomas. Every Christmas for many years a fairly small group of Christ-followers had gather there for an intimate, informal time of seeking the Lord together. There was some teaching and a lot of Spirit-prompted sharing, praying, and testimonies. It was 1 Corinthians 14:26 in action — what I had been searching for since the Jesus Movement.
When I returned to Middle Tennessee, I had the desire to try to get back into full-time ministry again and face more disappointment as a pastor.
Free Gas for Your Think Tank -- Short Reflections, Lasting Encouragement 