Tomorrow concludes my ministry at Oak Ridge Church after nine short years of being their pastor. Being their pastor has been a wonderful, healing experience for my family and I.
I came to Oak Ridge after leaving a congregation of more than five hundred. I was burned out. Church and family issues had taken everything I had. I had no idea where I was going to go or what I was going to do. I was not sure I wanted to be a minister any more.
Then I got a call from a pastor who asked me to preach at his church while he was away candidating at another church. The week following that Sunday, he left the church, and Oak Ridge invited me back to fill the pulpit.
My first impression coming to Oak Ridge was that I had fallen off the edge of the world. It was far into the country outside of Lancaster, SC. Oak Ridge is an old fashioned country church with brick sides and a tall steeple. When I first saw it, I thought it had a forlorn look about it. The inside was pretty, though. Later I learned it had been designed by their first pastor and built with the members' own hands. About thirty people, mostly gray-haired sat scattered around the mostly empty sanctuary.
I must confess to a feeling of hurt pride. I was used to preaching to a few hundred, not a handful. But the congregation was warm and friendly, and were genuinely happy to have me.
Two weeks later, they asked me to come again. This time, they were even more friendly. They asked me to come back the following week. Before long I was preaching there regularly. They asked me if I would consider becoming their pastor.
My answer was a quick and definite no.
There were several reasons for this. They had a manse, and I wanted to live in my own home. They were in South Carolina, and my daughter was in school in North Carolina. Out-of-state tuition would make her education unaffordable. My wife had taken a job in Charlotte, which was almost an hour away.
The real reasons, though were more about my own pride. I saw myself as a city pastor. I could not see myself as a country parson. I grew up in the suburbs, where change was a regular part of life. In the country, change is often an unwelcome visitor. I could see little potential for growth. I didn't realize I was resisting God's call.
They would not take no for an answer. They began a campaign to literally love us into the church. They praised my sermons extravagantly. They were generous in their giving to us. They even had us elected the king and queen of their Valentine's Day banquet!
I quickly discovered that they were not the rustics I took them for. They were not closed, but open minded and curious. They accepted people that other churches would have quickly rejected. More than anything, they loved us--they really loved my wife and I. Even better, they allowed us to be ourselves and loved us as we were.
Faced with such a welcome, we had to submit.
We have stayed there nine years. Two of my daughters were married here. My grandchildren were baptized here. Oak Ridge has become part of our family, and we have become part of theirs.
Oak Ridge is in many ways just an ordinary country church. The pace of life is much slower. It has to be the most disorganized church I ever served. There were very few committees. One day in June they called a meeting to discuss Vacation Bible School that summer. At my last church, VBS planning began a year in advance. Things just seemed to come together at Oak Ridge.
This is not a criticism. I had had enough of organized religion. It was nice to have some disorganized religion for a change.
In churches like Oak Ridge, there is no perfectionism . Nothing is ever done perfectly. They are willing to accept the small graces of just being together, loving one another, and of living the love of Christ. They do all the necessary things a large church does, but without the pressure . They worship God just as fervently, care for their neighbors just as deeply, and study the Bible just as diligently, but they do not let little things bother them. They respect people's limitations, and accept what God brings them with a quiet and dignified grace, not trying to change the world, but to live in it as Christ wants them to live. Churches like Oak Ridge are a true model of heaven--where the people of God accept without judging, forgive without remembering, and love without seeking recognition or reward.
Oak Ridge has given Joy and I the freedom to be ourselves. They have allowed me the time to pursue outside ministries, without complaint or jealousy. In the past nine years I have had the privilege of teaching in a seminary, completing three books, traveling to Africa on a mission trip, and become involved in mercy ministries in the community. They gave me the freedom to live where I wanted. Their love has made me the envy of my peers.
Over the years, we have made many improvements to the buildings and grounds. We have brought in a few new members, though I wish it had been more. But I am leaving the church in somewhat better shape than I found it. The next pastor of the church, God willing, will be able to preside over many new additions to the membership.
The best thing I can say about the Oak Ridge Church is this--they have been God's instrument for restoring my soul.
In Kings there is a story of the prophet Elijah. Elijah was a man given to deep depression. In his conflicts with Ahab and Jezebel, Elijah had to flee into the wilderness. There, God fed him through a flock of ravens. Each bird bringing a little morsel of food to him, until he was strong enough to continue. Oak Ridge has been like that flock to me, every one of them giving me a daily blessing, each showing God's care and provision, until my strength and my faith is restored.
Thank you Oak Ridge, for nine years of showing God's love. May the next pastor you have be as blessed as I.
I came to Oak Ridge after leaving a congregation of more than five hundred. I was burned out. Church and family issues had taken everything I had. I had no idea where I was going to go or what I was going to do. I was not sure I wanted to be a minister any more.
Then I got a call from a pastor who asked me to preach at his church while he was away candidating at another church. The week following that Sunday, he left the church, and Oak Ridge invited me back to fill the pulpit.
My first impression coming to Oak Ridge was that I had fallen off the edge of the world. It was far into the country outside of Lancaster, SC. Oak Ridge is an old fashioned country church with brick sides and a tall steeple. When I first saw it, I thought it had a forlorn look about it. The inside was pretty, though. Later I learned it had been designed by their first pastor and built with the members' own hands. About thirty people, mostly gray-haired sat scattered around the mostly empty sanctuary.
I must confess to a feeling of hurt pride. I was used to preaching to a few hundred, not a handful. But the congregation was warm and friendly, and were genuinely happy to have me.
Two weeks later, they asked me to come again. This time, they were even more friendly. They asked me to come back the following week. Before long I was preaching there regularly. They asked me if I would consider becoming their pastor.
My answer was a quick and definite no.
There were several reasons for this. They had a manse, and I wanted to live in my own home. They were in South Carolina, and my daughter was in school in North Carolina. Out-of-state tuition would make her education unaffordable. My wife had taken a job in Charlotte, which was almost an hour away.
The real reasons, though were more about my own pride. I saw myself as a city pastor. I could not see myself as a country parson. I grew up in the suburbs, where change was a regular part of life. In the country, change is often an unwelcome visitor. I could see little potential for growth. I didn't realize I was resisting God's call.
They would not take no for an answer. They began a campaign to literally love us into the church. They praised my sermons extravagantly. They were generous in their giving to us. They even had us elected the king and queen of their Valentine's Day banquet!
I quickly discovered that they were not the rustics I took them for. They were not closed, but open minded and curious. They accepted people that other churches would have quickly rejected. More than anything, they loved us--they really loved my wife and I. Even better, they allowed us to be ourselves and loved us as we were.
Faced with such a welcome, we had to submit.
We have stayed there nine years. Two of my daughters were married here. My grandchildren were baptized here. Oak Ridge has become part of our family, and we have become part of theirs.
Oak Ridge is in many ways just an ordinary country church. The pace of life is much slower. It has to be the most disorganized church I ever served. There were very few committees. One day in June they called a meeting to discuss Vacation Bible School that summer. At my last church, VBS planning began a year in advance. Things just seemed to come together at Oak Ridge.
This is not a criticism. I had had enough of organized religion. It was nice to have some disorganized religion for a change.
In churches like Oak Ridge, there is no perfectionism . Nothing is ever done perfectly. They are willing to accept the small graces of just being together, loving one another, and of living the love of Christ. They do all the necessary things a large church does, but without the pressure . They worship God just as fervently, care for their neighbors just as deeply, and study the Bible just as diligently, but they do not let little things bother them. They respect people's limitations, and accept what God brings them with a quiet and dignified grace, not trying to change the world, but to live in it as Christ wants them to live. Churches like Oak Ridge are a true model of heaven--where the people of God accept without judging, forgive without remembering, and love without seeking recognition or reward.
Oak Ridge has given Joy and I the freedom to be ourselves. They have allowed me the time to pursue outside ministries, without complaint or jealousy. In the past nine years I have had the privilege of teaching in a seminary, completing three books, traveling to Africa on a mission trip, and become involved in mercy ministries in the community. They gave me the freedom to live where I wanted. Their love has made me the envy of my peers.
Over the years, we have made many improvements to the buildings and grounds. We have brought in a few new members, though I wish it had been more. But I am leaving the church in somewhat better shape than I found it. The next pastor of the church, God willing, will be able to preside over many new additions to the membership.
The best thing I can say about the Oak Ridge Church is this--they have been God's instrument for restoring my soul.
In Kings there is a story of the prophet Elijah. Elijah was a man given to deep depression. In his conflicts with Ahab and Jezebel, Elijah had to flee into the wilderness. There, God fed him through a flock of ravens. Each bird bringing a little morsel of food to him, until he was strong enough to continue. Oak Ridge has been like that flock to me, every one of them giving me a daily blessing, each showing God's care and provision, until my strength and my faith is restored.
Thank you Oak Ridge, for nine years of showing God's love. May the next pastor you have be as blessed as I.
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