In the annals of history, the last fifty
years will be noted as a tumultuous time in politics and society. A half century ago in the political world,
disagreements were common, but civility toward one’s political adversary was
still evident. In society, gender
identification was a fairly easy task with little room for controversy. Marriage vows were still taken somewhat
seriously, and although there were sprinkles of divorces here and there,
marriage between a man and a woman was still the modus operandi for most
up and coming young adults. Students
were able to bicycle to school and make it through an entire day without
hearing a single gunshot or fearing for their lives, and teachers could teach,
knowing that their authority over their classrooms was absolute. Even in the religious church world, one could
drive down a street and instantly recognize the various denominations by the
signs displayed in front of each church…”Southern Baptist,” “First
Presbyterian,” St. Paul’s Catholic,” and yes, even “West Side United
Pentecostal Church” to name a few examples.
But, as in society where we witnessed an
upheaval of social constraints all under the guise of independence, the same
phenomenon affected the church world also, and churches and pastors began
to chaff under the authoritarian control of a central organization. In my experience with pentecostal churches, I
can remember ministers saying that they did not want to have someone “up
yonder” telling us folks “down here” what to do. The result of all this upheaval was the
creation of independent local churches unaccountable for any of their actions
and with only the thinnest of connections to any national organization. Where once there were church boards who
worked with district boards who worked with national boards to insure a
conformity and unity of spirit throughout the brotherhood, pastors assumed control
of the local assemblies with no oversight from any organization and
unaccountable for church finances or spiritual direction.
Over the last fifty years, my wife and I
have lived in several states and attended many pentecostal churches…and to me,
“pentecostal” means the organization with the nomenclature “United Pentecostal
Church, International.” In those early
years when we visited a new church, the new assembly was readily recognizable
as a pentecostal church by the spirit prevalent in the service, the message the
minister delivered, and the actions and dress of the members. The music was always the readily recognizable
songs of Zion which had been sung for decades.
But no more. The UPC has embraced contemporary church
programs with the enthusiasm of a dog with a fresh bone, and as a result
services have become concerts of musical entertainment and sermons designed to
excite rather than inspire. Churches are
embarrassed to put the word “Pentecostal” in their names, choosing silly
generic monikers like “The Happy Place.”
For a true Christian to live the proper life today, he/she will have to
be determined to live it on his/her own; there will be little help from the
church.
The latest bright idea to come down the
pentecostal pike is an idea which has been in most other denominations for
years…the elimination of Sunday night services. There was a time when the Sunday morning service
was primarily for the regular worshipper and the evening service more
evangelical, but the coin has flipped in the last few years with the
morning service being the one geared to visitors and the evening service for
the old regulars. Now the evening
service is gone, so a major source of spiritual food has been taken away from
the faithful member.
I find it interesting that when a church
decides to eliminate the night service, it is made clear to the members, “That
doesn’t mean you should reduce your tithing and offerings.” Translation:
“We are reducing our spiritual services to you by 33%, but we still want
our full pay.”
At our church Sunday night service was
cancelled under the guise of “House to House,” or “H2H” for an acronym. Using the scripture in the New Testament
which referred to the early church going from house to house to worship, that’s
what we were supposed to do. Apparently,
the fact that the early church had no building in which to worship while we have
a beautiful edifice apparently had no bearing on the decision. The underlying instruction was that there
would be no central church service; we were supposed to go have our own service
at somebody’s house instead.
The problem is, you see, my wife and I are
in a group which in today’s church is largely ignored…the senior citizen
crowd. I will always remember sitting
next to two up-and-coming, go-get-them pastors and hearing one say to the
other, “Everything in our church is geared to the 18-25 year old. That’s where you get church growth.” The problem with that is the senior group constitutes
probably the most faithful tithes-givers and most faithful attendees, and yet
our preferences are largely ignored. We
have enjoyed Sunday night service for fifty-plus years for the spiritual
strength it gives us, and getting together in a small group on Sunday night and
re-hashing the morning sermon hardly takes the place of a full-blown church
experience.
But there has been a positive outcome to
this terrible dilemma. Although I have not run
across one senior person in our church who is in favor of “H2H,” we who have been relegated to
insignificance have decided to meet on our own…at a much more convenient
assembly point than one’s homes. After
all, at a home, someone has to be the host...serve snacks, lead the service,
and clean the house. We have chosen our
assembly point to be none other than Denny’s Restaurant…yes, America’s
Diner. Rather than “H2H” we have dubbed
our party “HDH"...i.e...“Home to Denny’s to Home.”
It was a natural decision, since on Friday
mornings for the last seven years or so, a bunch of us old church guys have been
meeting at Denny’s to fellowship and talk about God, guns, and butter. It has been a tremendous boost to a sense of
camaraderie amongst the brethren, and it is one item on my weekly schedule I do
not miss unless absolutely necessary. I
love those men; they build my faith.
So now, about 6:00 p.m. every Sunday, three to
five couples gather at our HDH and enjoy a solid two hours of seriousness,
laughter, jokes, jabs, prayer, and discussion.
We have a cross section of faithful members who attend our HDH:
We have a cross section of faithful members who attend our HDH:
(Please note: at this
point the following names have been changed to protect the innocent…and maybe
some of the guilty…from any repercussions, vindictiveness, or outright jealousy
which those who know better may toss our way.)
·
Adolf…Probably
the most faithful man in existence to our church who is also so conservative
he’s ready to go to war every time he hears a drum. Can identify the weapon (and probably has
one) the feds used to shoot Bonnie and Clyde.
He likes to gamble and then claim, “It ain’t in the Bible!”
·
Maria…His
lovely wife who has never raised her voice since she was in the fourth grade
and she got a “B” on a test when she was expecting an “A.” “A soft answer turneth away wrath” says the
scriptures…and also makes her husband toe the line.
·
Marvin…comes
to breakfast and HDH armed with snake oil, air cleaners, beneficiary forms, and
pens. Never say “OK” to him…you will
have bought something. It’s also good if
you know sign language.
·
Gertie…his
wife…amazingly outspoken and opinionated.
It is clear that she must be brilliant, because I agree with everything
she says…almost. She’s been known to
split a dinner with a stranger in order to save a dollar.
·
Bobo…Has
read far more than his capacity to retain.
Has had more profound truths revealed to him than Moses and Abraham
combined. Truly an apostle of
doctrine…we’re just not sure which doctrine yet. Listens closely to a still, small voice…who
usually does the driving.
·
Wanda…The
afore-mentioned still, small voice.
Queen of her chicken house in which her rooster steps quietly. Has a tendency to walk up to you and say,
“You need someone to lance that? Call my
office.”
·
John…Built
like a tank and just as difficult to crack.
Last seen smiling on January 14, 2002.
Solid, dependable, and predictable…I would want him next to me in a
firefight.
·
Louise…John’s
far more active other half. Must have a
heart of gold, because if you tell her a sad story, you get free rides to
church for life. Want to go
shopping?…give her a call. The taxi will
be on its way.
There are others who
occasionally wander in to our circle, but these are the faithful
participants. Each in his/her own way
contribute to the friendship and brotherhood which we all feel for each
other. Each has a story to tell and has
a track record of church faithfulness and adherence to church principles and
standards which the shallow, converted-to-the-beat-of-a-deafening-drum contemporary “Christian” will never
understand. I am proud to be in the
group.
(By the way…my name is
Alfred.)
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