A Procession of Deacons and Four-Count Time
I spend most of my time in new churches and megachurches. But not long ago, it was my privilege to preach at a church of about 300 in the middle of the Bible Belt. It was wonderful.
During the Communion hymn the deacons, in their coats and ties, filed in formation to the front pew. An elder presented a fine meditation, and then returned for an offering prayer. There was an invitation hymn following my message, and a woman came forward to confess her faith in Jesus. She was baptized that morning. After the baptism, the associate minister directed (yes, actually directed) the congregation to sing in four-count time a verse of “Now I Belong to Jesus.” I expected to walk outside and see a Plymouth Valiant or Ford Pinto driving down the road.
This was not a declining church with a sad future. On the contrary, attendance and offerings have grown significantly over the past two years.
It was not a congregation of older adults. The nursery was full and the children’s classrooms were buzzing.
It was not an ethnically homogenous church. There were people of color and lots of different accents.
It was not a rigid church resistant to change. The congregation has changed significantly to reflect the community of which it is a part.
This was simply a church that figured if something isn’t broken, why fix it. The church did not seem to have one ounce of self-consciousness that, with the exception of some music, its worship service hasn’t changed much in 50 years.
I understand why many churches radically change music and worship styles. They want to reach more people with the good news of the gospel. I applaud that. Still, it was refreshing to see a church growing because it learned to love better, not because it developed a more contemporary worship service or refreshed the facade of the sanctuary.
The church has always been and always will be in a state of change. And people have grumbled about change since the beginning of time. But in the midst of the inevitable ebb and flow, it was delightful to visit a church that has found a way to preserve the past without sacrificing the gospel.













Great observation — all too often we as church leaders sell out to culture in the name of “relevancy.”
I was so pleased by his experience and his sharing it with us. For too many years I have felt that the Restoration churches have been relying too much on their own creativeness and abilities rather than submitting to and being led by the Holy Spirit. Paul’s experience in this church and his observation that it is growing because it has “learned to love better” is crucial. And how do we learn to love better but by the Holy Spirit working in us and through us?
A recent issue of the Standard (“Externally Focused & Evangelistic?”) was disheartening in that the work of the Holy Spirit in and through the church was not even implied, let alone expressed. Romans 8:9 implies that unless we, individually and corporately, have the Holy Spirit working in us and through us, we don’t have Christ. This is a sobering thought. But I have felt for years that the Restoration churches have held the Holy Spirit at arm’s length, perhaps through fear of being associated with charismatic churches, or fear of where He will lead us.
In today’s frenetic society, it would be so comforting if there was one place you could count on not to change for the sake of change . . . or for the sake of being cutting edge . . . or for the sake of “being relevant.” To my mind, that place should be the church, a place of refuge from the insanity outside its walls. Paul’s column is evidence that it can still be done, but only if the Holy Spirit has His way with us.
Thank you, Paul.