Printer Friendly Version(NOTE: This message was preached on the occasion of the 50th
Anniversary of the Monterey Church of the Nazarene. Adaptations to the specific
people of the story of your local church will be meaningful.)
The longest word in the Bible is also the longest name in the
Bible: “Then I went to the prophetess, and she conceived and gave birth
to a son. And the LORD said to me, "Name him Maher-Shalal-Hash-Baz”
(Isaiah 8:3, NIV).
Some of the longest lists in the Bible are lists of people’s
names, and the most commonly skipped over chapters of the Bible are also the
lists of who begat whom.
Each year at the District Assembly of our church we have a reading
of those members of the church who passed away during the year. It’s
a somber moment. There’s no eulogizing of those people, just a listing
of their names.
The Vietnam War Memorial in Washington, D.C. is a list of names—56,000
names etched into polished black granite. At the memorial service of the World
Trade Center disaster, all was quiet for the reading of more than 2,000 names.
Students who study hard in school each quarter are rewarded by having their
names printed in the local papers. When one auditions for a play, a place
in a choir, or a sports team, the names of those selected are printed and
posted on bulletin boards and we search for our name.
Each of these is a roll call of sorts. For some a roll call
is a boring exercise they merely endure, but for others it’s the agony
and ecstasy of listening for your name.
The point is that the work of the Lord has always been about people. People
play the important role throughout the span of time. Some names have a tendency
to bring about good memories, some serve as ominous reminders.
No one is inclined to name his or her daughter after Jezebel.
Likewise, Ananias and Sapphira are not popular names for our children. Nor
are Judas, Demas, and quite a few others.
However, there are a host of biblical names that we do choose
to name our children: Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John have received a lot of
airplay. I believe the most popular name in the world is Mary, or any of its
derivatives.
In Romans 16, Paul lists 33 names, all with great praise. He
mentions people who risked their lives for him; people who went to prison
because of their work in the building of the Kingdom of God; people who worked
hard for the Kingdom of God. In fact, the words translated variously as to
labor, to work, or to serve occur at least seven times in those verses. Paul
refers to these people from a vast array of backgrounds as brothers or sisters
at least four times. That is the fabric of the church. All through the Bible
are lists of the many people who devoted themselves to the work of the Lord.
In the Church each person is vitally connected together: “Just
as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all
have the same function, so in Christ we who are many form one body, and each
member belongs to all the others” (Romans 12:4-5, NIV). It takes all
of us to be what God intended when He instituted the Church.
In an article in Reader’s Digest, “What Good
Is a Tree?,” the author explains that when the roots of trees touch,
they produce a substance that reduces competition among the trees. In fact,
this unknown fungus actually helps link together the roots of different trees,
even trees of dissimilar species. A whole forest may be linked together in
this way. If one tree has access to water, another to nutrients, and a third
to sunlight, all the trees share with one another. Now if trees know how to
co-exist, how much more in the Body of Christ ought we to share together?
In Northern California, two wonderful examples come from trees:
the Lone Cypress and the Redwoods. I find it interesting that the Lone Cypress
has to be tethered to the rocks on which it sits. It’s not strong enough
nor secure enough out there on its own. It has to be shored up with cement
and rocks. It has to have steel guide wires hold it in place. While it is
“lone,” it is anything but able to fend for itself. The Redwoods,
on the other hand, always grow naturally in clusters or groves. They need
the shelter and protection that togetherness gives. The Church is most like
the Redwood groves; we need our relationships with one another.
When I think of the Church, I am prone to think of the children’s
game: “Here’s the Church, here’s the steeple, open the doors,
and see all the people.”
The first 50 years of our Church in Monterey would be incomplete
without a recital of all the people who gave so much to make it happen. And
this is right, for when Jesus first mentions that He is going to build His
Church, He calls Peter by name and tells him that He’s going to begin
with him.
I’m grateful for a group of people who cared enough about
the message of holiness that they were willing to commit themselves together
to plant a new church work in a community that was already experiencing hard
economic times. Harry Truman was in the White House. The country was recovering
from the debts of war. The sardines were gone from Monterey Bay, and a man
named Roy Smee was the district superintendent of the Northern California
Church of the Nazarene. He thought it would be wise to begin a work in place
called Monterey. Only two years earlier, John Steinbeck had written these
words: “Cannery Row in Monterey in California is a poem, a stink, a grating
noise, a quality of light, a tone, a habit, a nostalgia, a dream. Cannery
Row is the gathered and scattered, tin and iron and rust and splintered wood,
chipped pavement and weedy lots and junk heaps, sardine canneries of corrugated
iron, honky tonks, restaurants and whore houses, and little crowded groceries,
and laboratories and flophouses.”
It was right in the middle of this unsightly collection that
the Church of the Nazarene came. They came not to build structures or practice
moralism, but to share the Good News of Jesus, the Son of God.
The first pastor for this church was a man named John A. Nicholson.
He is now deceased but he pastored the church from 1947-1949. Roy E. Partain
followed him, pastoring from 1950-1951. He’s now retired and living in
Alhambra, CA. Wayne Gash, deceased, pastored from 1952-1953. Carlos L. Stepp,
also deceased, pastored from 1953-1954. G. Herbert Cummings, deceased, pastored
from 1955-1957. Following Pastor Cummings was Wayne Shirley, who is retired
and living in Salinas, CA. The Shirleys pastored from 1958-1963. Paul Harris
followed the Shirleys, pastoring from 1964-1967. He’s now retired in
Yuma, AZ. W.R. Wise, deceased, pastored from 1967-1973. Sidney Jackson pastored
from 1974-1975. The Jacksons are serving as part-time staff in Sacramento,
CA. Harold Talley, who moved yesterday to Arizona, pastored from 1976-1978.
Arthur Combs pastored from 1979-1983. He is living in Tacoma, WA. Dan Kellogg
was the pastor from 1984-1986. Terry Schneider was pastor from 1986-1990.
I’ve been the pastor since 1991.
You know, that list is much more than just a list of names.
They were men and women, with families, who came to Monterey to encourage
the work. These were people who risked their lives and gave up precious family
time, to discharge their duties as ministers of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
I am grateful for them. They represent the first 50 years of the hundreds
of other men and women who have been a part of this church.
As I read through the familiar names of our church these past
few weeks, I kept coming across names which are etched into our history; the
names of men and women who have given, and struggled, and worked to encourage
the building of the Kingdom of God here. There were the Hawkins, Ralph and
Coraella, and their son, Daryl, and his wife, Carol, who are still here, still
working, still giving, still encouraging the work. There was a man named Dave
Christensen who has held every position in the church at one time or another;
still here, still encouraging the work.
The names of Allen and Phyllis James are on many of the old minutes of the
church. Carl and Joanna Riggs, and many, many more. But the church isn’t
just static and historical; the minutes of the past few years include many
of your names, and you are adding to the history of our church because we
are a living body of Christ.
Some have stuck with the church through thick and thin; through the many changes
and progressions of the church. I’m sure they haven’t liked everything
that’s ever happened but they’ve been here, supporting, encouraging,
working. Our church isn’t the little church it once was, but then who
would have ever thought our town would become a vacation destination? It was
“a poem, a stink, a grating noise, a quality of light, a tone, a habit,
a nostalgia, a dream.”
My prayer for our church is that those who come behind us 50 years from now will find that we, too, have been faithful. I pray they’ll find that we stayed by the stuff and committed ourselves to the work of building the Kingdom of God in this place.
Let us labor for the Master from the dawn till setting sun;
Let us talk of all His wondrous love and care.
Then when all of life is over, and our work on earth is done,
and the roll is called up yonder, I’ll be there.
When the roll is called up yonder,
When the roll is called up yonder,
When the roll is called up yonder,
When the roll is called up yonder, I’ll be there!
May all who come behind us find us faithful.
