FORTY YEARS OF REFORMATION
At Oakhurst Baptist Church, Decatur, GA
October 29, 2006
By John Nichol
The last Sunday in October each year marks an important
event in church history. On October 31, 1517 . . . 489 years ago Martin Luther,
an Augustinian monk, nailed his 95 Theses or arguments to the door of the Castle Church in Wittenberg, Germany. This act
signaled the beginning of the
Protestant Reformation. Church historian, Robert McAfee Brown has characterized the Reformation in these words:
"Consider the Christian Church
as a ship that had been sailing on the sea of history for a long time.
(In the course of its journey) It had picked up a great many barnacles, which made it hard to keep it on
course. It had been through such severe storms that some of its
equipment had been washed overboard. What
the Reformers did was to take the ship into dry dock, chip off the barnacles, and restore the lost
equipment, so that the same ship
could be launched again and fulfill its proper task." In that last phrase . . . the same ship . .
. Dr. Brown makes a critical point for our understanding of the Reformation.
The Reformers did not invent the message
which they proclaimed. They were not creating something new . . . they were calling for the recovery of
something old. They were "struggling
for integrity" . . . trying to re-establish continuity with their authentic past, and once again root the life of
the Church in the Biblical tradition.
In my judgment it would be difficult to find a more accurate
description of what has been happening here
in the life of this church for the past forty years. Your effort to recover an authentic line of continuity between
the life of this church and what scripture reveals about the meaning,
message and mission of the early church has been properly characterized as
"a struggle for integrity" . . . a
struggle to live out of, and in consistency
with, our Biblical rootage..
As many of you know Walker Knight chose this very phrase,
"Struggle For Integrity" as the title for his book about Oakhurst.
What you may not know is that the idea for
that title originated from a poem by the Russian dissident Yevgeny Yevtushenko. As an outspoken critic of
Russian oppression . . . sometimes
at peril to his own life . . . Yevtushenko
was often heralded as a man of great
courage. Unwilling to wear that badge of honor he wrote a poem entitled: "Talk." It goes like this:
Talk
You're a brave man they tell me.
I'm not
Courage has never been my quality.
Only I thought it disproportionate
So to degrade myself as others did.
No foundations trembled.
My voice No
more than laughed at pompous falsity;
I did no more than write, never denounced,
I left out nothing I had thought about,
Defended who deserved it, put a brand on
The untalented, the ersatz writers
(doing what anyhow had to be done)
And now they press to tell me that I'm brave.
How sharply our children will be ashamed
Taking at last their vengeance for these horrors
Remembering how in so strange a time
Common integrity could look like courage.
It is indeed a strange
time in the life of the Church . .
. certainly a time when common integrity is often called courage. An old
Baptist preacher by the name of Vance Havner once described the situation this
way: "Christians have lived sub-normally
for so long that normal Christianity appears
to be abnormal." Another has suggested that we are more shocked to see the gospel practiced than we are to
see it denied. In such a time . . . when
people are quick to praise this church for its witness . . . I believe it would be a mistake for Oakhurst to
take its press clippings too seriously. Much has been said in the way of
commendation . . . as well as condemnation
. . . about the ministry of this church. No doubt there is some truth at both ends of that spectrum. What we can say with certainty, and should say with humility, is that the
story of Oakhurst is not a success story . . . we remain a people in process . . . and we are, at best,
engaged in a modest effort to live our life together with a larger
measure of integrity.
This word of caution is prompted by a remark I heard from an
acquaintance of mine in another state who
happens to have a friend who has been a member here for the past ten years or so. Her friend made this
observation, "I love Oakhurst,
the only problem I have is that sometime the air of self righteousness
there is almost palpable." I would simply remind you this morning that the arrogance of liberalism can
be just as offensive as the
arrogance of fundamentalism. We. like Christians everywhere, need grace for our failures, modesty about our
successes, and gratitude for the
privilege of being part of such a fellowship.
It is entirely accurate
to say that for the last forty years Oakhurst has been committed to the continuing process of
reformation. This commitment is implicit in the very first paragraph of our
church covenant . . . . "We are together
only to be the church of God in Christ. We are not here by chance, but God in his grace is making of us a fellowship
to embody and express the spirit of
Christ." The covenant says we exist to become something we are not
vet . . . and in that process of becoming we've had to scrape off a lot of
barnacles and restore a good deal of lost equipment to this ship. What we have
endeavored to do is not to create a new theology, but to discover the radical dimensions of the theology
we already possess . . . and create
structures consistent with it.
When you consider the clear implications of the text alluded
to in our church covenant: In Christ's family there can be no division into Jew and non-Jew, slave and free, male and female. Among us you are all equal.
That is. we are all in a common relationship with Jesus Christ . . . you have to wonder how Southern
Baptists managed to construct an all
white, male dominated denomination where "whosoever will may come"
meant "as long as you are white middle class like we are . . . .and are willing, if you happen to be a woman, to be
regarded as incapable of leadership." While we may not have
contributed directly to the creation of
these prejudicial structures we certainly acquiesced to them for decades.
The reformation decision which
welcomed African Americans to membership
in this church and invited women into places of leadership was simply
the recovery of what had always been an immediate implicate of our professed commitment to Christ. I remember how surprised I was when Jack Clarke, the first
African American member of this congregation, expressed to me his
reservations about having white Christians
teaching his children about the love of Christ. He had every right to be
concerned about the way we had prostituted the gospel of God's inclusive grace.
The presence of female
leadership in this church from Amy Greene and Terri Canzoneri on through
to Kathy Swint, Louise Griffis, and Alverta Wright,
has enriched and empowered its ministry beyond measure. Their contribution reminds me of the story of the
little boy who came into the house crying after being out playing with the
neighbor's children. His father asked
him, "what's the matter, are you hurt?" The little boy said, "Yes I'm hurt, Betsy beat me up." When
his father asked, "You mean to tell me that you let a mere girl
beat you up?" he replied, "Dad, girls aren't so mere anymore!"
That truth was brought home to me by a fairy tale someone
sent me last week. "Once upon a time in
a land far away, a beautiful, independent, self-assured princess
happened upon a frog as she sat by a pond in a verdant meadow near her castle. The frog hopped into the princess' lap
and said: "Elegant Lady I was
once a handsome prince, until an evil witch cast a spell upon me. One kiss from
you, however, and I will turn back into the dapper, young prince that I am and then, my sweet, we can marry and set
up housekeeping in your castle with my mother, where you can prepare my meals, clean my clothes, bear my
children, and forever feel grateful and happy doing so." That night
as the princess dined sumptuously on
lightly sauteed frog legs seasoned in white wine, she chuckled and thought to herself: I don't freakin
think so!** Oakhurst has gratefully
rediscovered that girls are not so mere anymore.
There is no way within
the time constraints of this service to adequately allude to all the areas in the life of this church
where you have manifested your
determination to be a reformation congregation. I remember speaking here on the morning we moved out permanently from
the new buildings on College Ave.
back into this building. I said, "By your decision to make this move you have in effect said that you
seek not merely to go to church
. . . you seriously want to try and be the church . . . that you are not content merely to study Christ's ministry but
wish to extend and continue it."
That was a reformation decision.
From the moment you
decided to make membership in this fellowship the product of thoughtful and
informed commitment through delayed membership
you declared your intention to take discipleship to a deeper level. You were not creating something new . . . you
were trying to recover something old
. . . integrity of membership. The adoption of a new policy on baptism represented
a broadened appreciation for our brothers and sisters in Christ who come to us
from other denominational traditions seeking fellowship with us at the Kingdom
table. While that change may not have been consistent with the position of the
Southern Baptist Convention it is certainly reflective of the spirit of Christ.
It was a Reformation decision.
By changing the church
covenant to reflect your commitment to making this church an inclusive fellowship, welcoming those
who had been marginalized because of their sexual orientation, along with those
who have mental or physical disabilities, you aligned yourself more fully with the God of unconditional love revealed in Jesus Christ.
You manifested your freedom in Christ
to value truth more highly than popularity, faithfulness over success. Biblical authority over communitv consensus. You asked the right question . . . not,
"will it work" but "is it right" . . . and you dared to act upon the answer. That was a Reformation decision.
Very early in my ministry here at Oakhurst I discovered that
what I felt constrained to say to this congregation wasn't going to be
universally appreciated. Some folks told me
so very directly . . . others just folded their tents and left for other
churches. Because I am insecure enough to need universal affirmation I found the tension created by my preaching to be very painful. However, I believe I can honestly
say that my determination to
articulate the conviction that the rejection of our new African American neighbors would be tantamount to the rejection of
Jesus Christ was rooted not in my
desire for conflict or martyrdom, but rather, in a sense of divine constraint. The issue certainly wasn't my
courage, it was clear to me that
it was our integrity as a church of Jesus Christ which was at stake.
I wish I could tell you this morning that my struggle for
integrity is over . . . that my personal
summons to reformation is complete. Instead, I have a confession to make. I find myself in an ongoing lover's quarrel with the church. Let me try to explain it to you. I go to church and listen to the words the preacher
speaks . . . .but the thing behind the words is hard to find. He preaches what we have been taught all our lives, that
God loves us and sent Christ to
suffer and die to redeem us from our sins. He urges us to receive His gift of eternal life, and be saved from the
judgment of a God who will punish
eternally those who do not respond to His grace. Most of those who sit around me listen and seem to agree . . . and the
more animated the preacher becomes in urging us to choose Christ, and avoid God's impending judgment, the more pleased they
are to hear it. Of course their pleasure is rooted in the fact that they
have already made this decision and are
comfortably secure in their own salvation.
For me, however, it is
an incredibly painful experience because I feel the whole thing borders
on being a charade devoid of integrity. These people around me who are nodding their heads in
agreement with the preacher all have friends
and loved ones, even their own children, who haven't given a thought to Christ and His church for twenty years . . . .but nobody is weeping . . . nobody will rush home in a desperate attempt to rescue the perishing, and urge upon the lost the claims of Christ. It would seem that they don't
really believe what they are hearing
. . . or, if they do believe it, there is a serious loss of integrity in their failure to act upon it I suspect that these
folks, who are professing, card
carrying evangelicals, are in fact, practicing, closet universalists..
So, I am troubled
personally by a number of unanswered questions. Is it possible that we have underestimated the scope and
determination of God's unconditional
love and His pursuing grace? Is His desire to redeem creation, His unwillingness that any should perish, truly
thwarted by death? Are judgment and punishment the only remaining
alternative for our friends and neighbors
who die without having experienced God's grace? Are the Jews, Muslims, Hindus and Buddhists of the world
condemned to an eternity without God
and without hope because they have sought God outside the Christian tradition? Is God's redeeming purpose
really going to be defeated by our
willfulness?
Clarence Jordan was
struggling with these very questions when he wrote these words: "I just can't stick my God into
a little time-space relationship (I can't restrict His work to what happens
here before death) . . . .Maybe God is
in hot pursuit of us; we've been thinking of giving our heart to Christ. We're thinking so hard on it we're driving along
and we don't hear the whistle of a
freight train. And bam.. .it just smashes us to pieces. And God said, "you know, I almost had him." What
kind of God is that? A God whose
purposes can be voided by a freight train? I can't fit that in." A great Baptist theologian, A.T. Robinson spoke to
the same issue when he said,
"Judgment can never be God's last word, because if it were, it would be the word that would speak his
failure."
One more word from Clarence
Jordan. Commenting on the Biblical parable of the lost coin and the widow's diligent search to find it,
Clarence asks: "What does she
do? She gets a broom. She sweeps and sweeps and sweeps. She lights a lamp and sweeps until what? Until she
wore the broom out? No. Until the
lamp went out? No. Until her husband came home and said, "Hey, get my
supper, what are you doing with that broom?" No. How long did she sweep? Until she found it. How
long was that? As long as
necessary."
So, I find myself in a continuing struggle for integrity,
and a growing belief that God wants to redeem the whole world, and in spite of
our persistent willfulness His grace and
determination will pursue us as long as
is necessary. While I believe there is nothing we can do that will make God love us more . . . I also believe there is
nothing we can do that will make
God love us less. So, I
don't believe that God's love and
grace is some kind of temporary
offer taken off the table when we die. I
believe He will pursue the
whole of His creation in love until every seat at His table is filled É that eventually every
knee will bow in grateful acknowledgment
of His love and grace.
Jim Fowler, an Emory
University professor, came here in 1982 to lead you in a study seminar . . . he
was so impressed by your life together that he wrote a poem about your Covenant
Stone and this covenant community. He called it
ÒOakhurst—First ImpressionsÓ
That stone
That improbable protruding side-edged monolith
Struck me the first time I came and arrested me again.
We are here, it says we are here to stay.
Amidst locked parking lots, behind the railroad,
Next to Southern Bell
Surrounded by old poverty and re-gentry
We are here to stay.
No idolatry of building caught my eye.
Care and maintenance are in evidence
But as means to end, not ends in themselves.
No physical stuff here that can't be risked.
Hall floors hard as a gym, easy to clean, hard to damage.
More money in library books than in all the desks together
(Except for those high-tech desks which make the lifeline
of communication to a wider world)
Covenant, vocation, gifts put at God's disposal
For the neighbor: It says the kind of church I hunger for.
The ghosts that haunt this place are recent ghosts
Last night, this morning, last Sunday
And, by God, they just may be holy.
Yes, the ghosts that haunt this place are recent ghosts . .
. even holy ghosts . . . because the Reformation continues. God is at work
making you a fellowship to embody and express the spirit of Christ . . . Thanks
be to God.