Doing Church: Conception to Toddler

My first experience doing church happened before I was born.

Summer 1959. Nash's at Honeyman Park. Unborn son to Pam's right.

In 1959, as an embryo in my mother's womb, I likely felt the vibrations of the organ and choir at the Evangelical United Brethren (EUB) Church in Eugene. The fervent sermons of pastor Max Morgan must have reverberated through my DNA as Mom sat patiently in the pew, gazing at the stained glass windows.

My parents, Ray and Betty, joined the EUB in late 1955, the year sister Patti was born and the year Dad began his first teaching job at Brattain Elementary School. He volunteered as the "youth adviser" for the Eugene EUB's high school group. The church didn't have a paid youth pastor.

The national EUB denomination formed in 1946, a merger of the Evangelical Church and United Brethren in Christ Church. Incidentally, my great grandfather, Thomas Wesley Nash, was a pastor for the United Brethren in Christ Church -- first in Minnesota and later at a beautiful hillside church in Hopewell, Oregon. I'm pretty sure his middle name was given in honor of the great 18th-century English theologian and preacher, John Wesley, who founded Methodism. I was named after Thomas W. Nash, though our middle names differ.

John Wesley

The two denominations that formed the EUB were rooted in the teachings of John Wesley, who was deeply influenced by the Dutch protestant theologian, Jacobus Arminius (1560-1609). Arminius was famous for his criticisms of some of the theology of French reformer John Calvin (1509-1564).

Jacobus Arminius

In 1610, Arminius's followers, the Remonstrants, published five points critical of Calvinism. In 1611, Calvin's followers countered with five points of their own, which in later years developed into the Five Points of Calvinism (known by the acronym TULIP --Total depravity, Unconditional election, Limited atonement, Irresistible grace and Perseverance of the saints). So, the Five Points of Calvinism were actually a response to Arminianism.

John Calvin

It's important to note that this five-point debate occurred when both Calvin and Arminius were dead. Both theologians had produced volumes of work in their lifetimes, so we should be careful not to limit their contributions to just these five points. Their knowledge of the Christian faith was much broader.

My guess is that Mom and Dad weren't all that enthusiastic about Wesleyan/Arminian theology. My parents were both raised in that tradition, so it made sense they would continue in that mode. Mom was raised in the Church of the Nazarene and Dad was raised in the Evangelical Church. This explains how their paths first crossed at Cascade College (Portland, Oregon), a Christian college favored by several Wesleyan denominations.

In a recent interview, Dad said that in the 6-7 years our family attended the EUB, the church went through about three pastors: Dolph Ballantyne, Leo Thornton (who baptized Dad) and Max Morgan. Dad thought highly of Leo Thornton and described his preaching as well balanced. But the third pastor, Max Morgan, drove my father up the wall. Morgan was a hard-nosed preacher who placed a heavy emphasis on the experience of sanctification and holiness. This was known as a "second work of grace," subsequent to conversion. So, after someone is born again and saved, they still needed to experience a special work of the Holy Spirit whereby they are dramatically transformed in such a way that they will no longer sin. According to my father, Pastor Morgan actually believed Christians could instantly attain this state of moral perfection.

January 1960. Pam, Tom (at 2 1/2 months), Mom, Patti. 

Needless to say, Dad didn't buy into that doctrine. He saw inconsistencies between Max's preaching and his behavior. If Morgan claimed to be free from any sinful behavior, then his actions and conduct needed to be perfect 24/7. Dad noticed during church league softball games that Pastor Morgan would get angry when the ump ruled against him, or if his teammates performed badly. Dad assumed that if Max were questioned about his behavior, he would have rationalized it as "righteous anger." After all, in the Gospels Jesus displayed righteous anger in the temple when He violently turned over the tables of the money changers.

For two to three years, my father endured Pastor Morgan's stern holiness sermons. Eventually, Dad quit the EUB. "I figured I'm not compatible here anymore," he told me recently. "So I left it with no place to go." When he quit, he didn't have another church in mind. Dad speculates that Mom was too loyal and long suffering to quit on her own, though she too wasn't thrilled with Morgan's preaching. Nevertheless, she followed Dad's lead in leaving the church.

My sister Pam thinks she was a four-year-old when we left the EUB, probably in 1962. I would have been about two. The EUB would eventually merge with the Methodist Church in 1968 to form the United Methodist Church, which claims such members as George W. Bush and Hillary Clinton.

January 1960. Outdoor ceremony during renovations at Eugene EUB
Church. Likely it is Mom carrying me (baby in light-blue hood).

Soon after our family left the EUB, Dad heard positive things about a Presbyterian minister named Milton Gardner, who pastored a mid-sized church in Springfield, as well as two little country churches in the McKenzie Valley, east of Springfield. Of the small churches, one was located in Walterville, the other in Leaburg. The pastor conducted an early-morning service in Springfied, then, for the late-morning service, alternated  between the two country churches (each every other week).

Dad thinks he first heard Milt Gardner preach at the Walterville location, 20 miles east of our Springfield home. My father was impressed with the sermon and discovered he shared a similar background with Gardner. Both were raised in the Wesleyan tradition and felt the need to change direction. Our family usually attended the Springfield Presbyterian church, which was closer to our home. In 1966 (or 67), we moved 20 miles east to the McKenzie Valley, where we typically attended the nearby Leaburg and Walterville churches.

Presbyterianism has its roots in Calvinism, so Dad became quite the rebel changing camps like he did. However, by the 1960's the Presbyterian Church USA (the denomination's current name) was in the middle of a historical shift towards theological liberalism. Biblical inerrancy and dogmatic theology (along with strict Calvinism) were no longer stressed. The social gospel became the focus.

Dad doesn't describe Milt Gardner as a liberal. He was an intellectual, who preached in a lecture style more akin to a college professor. He was evangelical and orthodox, believing the fundamentals of the Faith and the need for lost sinners to believe the Gospel of Jesus Christ for salvation. He stopped short of giving altar calls. Says Dad of Pastor Gardner, "When he preached a sermon, you knew he was well prepared. He believed that the scriptures were the inspired Word of God."

The Presbyterian Churches in Springfield, Walterville and Leaburg were very traditional in appearance and function. The pastor wore a clerical robe and vestments. The liturgy was formal. Old hymns were sung from real hymnals. The Springfield and Walterville churches had stained glass windows. All three had wooden pews. But alas, I was too young to remember that first year or two after the EUB. My memories began to stick when I was four or five, 1963 or 1964. Thus began my childhood as a Presbyerian.

Much thanks to nephew Ben Donovan for digitizing Dad's priceless slides.

My 1st birthday, 10/22/1960. Jan, Tom, Patti and Pam. Notice pistol on my left hip to ward off pesky big sisters.

To Be Chester Metz

The following is a true story about my good friend, Chester Metz. He gave me permission to post the story and the photograph onto this blog. It's been nearly two years since I wrote this and I'm happy to report that Chester is alive, kicking and inspiring as ever. Be blessed.

* * *

To Be Chester Metz

1973. Chester Metz staggered along a dark, secluded street in Long Island, New York. A car slowed to a stop. Two strangers got out and approached the four-foot-eight drunk. They beat him, marring a face

After church with Chester Metz

already disfigured by congenital paralysis.

Police found Metz alone, bruised, bloodied, still drunk. They drove him to a hospital, where he underwent surgery to repair his facial wounds. After a night’s rest, he mustered the energy to leave his room. Wandering through the halls, he approached a statue of Christ. He stood before it, transfixed. Metz began to cry: “Oh God, help me!”

The next morning, a taxi driver arrived at the hospital with orders to take Chester to an alcohol treatment facility. The cabby didn’t have directions, so he changed course and dropped his battered passenger at the local welfare office. A social worker directed Chester to a nearby shelter.

He walked several blocks to the Shiloh House. The shelter was part of the California-based Shiloh Youth Revival Centers, which led the charge during the “Jesus People” movement of the late-1960s and 70s.

Chester arrived at the house scarred from a twenty-eight-year lifetime of physical and emotional wounds. He encountered caring Christians, who shared the Good News of Christ’s love and salvation.

One day, while reading a booklet that explained how to find salvation through Jesus, Chester wandered into the Shiloh house bathroom. He noticed a prayer printed on a back page of the book. At that moment, the Holy Spirit powerfully touched Chester’s heart. He placed his faith in Christ by reciting the printed prayer of salvation. Chester exited the bathroom a born-again Christian.

“My heart was a ball of fire,” he recalls, “and I knew that God was purging out the bad and the old, and putting in the new and the good.”

God instantly removed Chester’s desire for alcohol and cigarettes. His cravings for sugar also ceased. He had previously been diagnosed with borderline diabetes. All signs of the disease disappeared.

After a year at the Long Island shelter, he and a friend hitchhiked across the country to Shiloh’s seventy-acre commune in Dexter, Oregon. Chester immersed himself in intensive Bible training at their Study Center. This formed the foundation for his lifelong ministry.

Fast-forward to 2015. Chester, 69, lives in a tiny one-room apartment in Springfield, Oregon. When in public, he sports a suit, tie, slacks (often plaid), dress hat, and running shoes. He walks slowly, with a cane, and easily strikes up conversations with those around him. No one gets away without hearing his jokes. His short stature, unique visage, formal attire and big personality make Chester an unforgettable local fixture.

Chester awakens each morning thanking God for the new day, enjoying fellowship with Him. While shaving, showering and eating breakfast, he prays for the people in his life. After a short rest, he leaves the apartment to begin his daily voluntary ministry. A caregiver accompanies him five days a week, assisting with chores, shopping and other needs.

His voice muffled somewhat by the facial paralysis, Chester describes his calling: “Every day, to pray for people, minister to people, encourage, share the gospel, whatever it is that God would lay on my heart to do, that would be for His glory and for the purpose of salvation….”

He accomplishes this ministry by visiting people in coffee shops, restaurants, stores and businesses throughout Springfield. “He [God] has given me the gift of encouragement, the gift to love and uplift someone, the gift of laughter.”

Sundays, Chester attends Ekklesia, a large, trendy, youthful church. He arrives early and leaves late, fellowshipping with and hugging anyone willing to bend down to his level.

Chester has endured a lifetime of hard knocks, beginning at birth with the facial paralysis. Two botched “corrective” surgeries further marred his face. His expression is frozen. Whether happy or upset, Chester can’t form a smile or a frown.

In boyhood, his tiny stature drew the wrath of bullies, who ridiculed and sometimes beat him. The bullying decreased after high school, but Chester began drinking heavily. He continued to live with his parents. When he came home drunk, his father would severely beat him.

Chester suffered debilitating headaches between 1977 and 1979. At that time he attended a church that emphasized miraculous healing. For two weeks, the leaders prayed for God to take away the headaches. Healing didn’t occur, so they asked Chester to leave the church.

This rejection led to disillusionment. For a few years Chester rarely attended church. Eventually he plugged back into regular fellowship.

Today, fellowship defines him. “Especially recently, God has brought my life to a point where I not only value, but really love my brothers and sisters, and not [to] just say it, but do it in deed and in truth, with prayer or acts of love, ministering to them.”

In 2011, he began dialysis when his kidneys failed. Then God healed him -- instantly. “That was a miracle,” he says, “…I should have died, but the Lord greatly intervened.”

How can someone with all the bad breaks in life be full of so much love and joy? Instead of dwelling on his hardships, Chester cultivates his relationships with God and others. “I continue to pray and spend time in His Word, remembering most of all to keep my relationship and fellowship [with God] going. And to reach out to others in love, whether it’s a word of encouragement or to pray with them -- continue to let God be glorified in everything I say and do….”

When asked what guidelines he lives by, he explains the JOY principle: “You want to get real joy? Put Jesus first, Others second, Yourself last.”

Chester promotes the power of prayer, citing Luke 11:9 as a favorite verse, “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and you shall find; knock and the door shall be opened unto you.”

Is he afraid of death? “No, certainly not, because His perfect love casts out fear…. Before I got saved, I had torment, I was afraid of death, ...when we love the brethren and love God first…there is no fear there, but there’s a peace and a joy, knowing where you’re going after you leave.”

To be Chester Metz is to live within a paradox of hardship and miracles. To be Chester Metz is to continually view people below shoulder level. It is to speak words of joy from a glad heart, to create smiles in others -- though your own face can’t form a smile. It is to fearlessly stare death and life in the face. To be Chester Metz is to know and love God, and to love others above yourself.