By: Will BashamI just recently got one of the coolest birthday presents from my wife: a really old, beat up pulpit. History has always fascinated me, and I love to cling to the past with items of nostalgia. Most people do. Nostalgia is the main reason high waisted jeans, mullets, and Stranger Things are all so popular these days. We love to remember the past because it reminds us of our good times back then.
The pulpit my wife got me was purchased for very little money by a family who had acquired property close to where we grew up on Trace Creek Road. On this property sits a church (Walnut Grove Methodist) that was planted in 1882. I now have the pulpit from that old church to preach from and one of our deacons graciously restored it for us to its original glory. As I look at the knots in the cherry wood and see the wear and tear on it from hands gripping the sides, I can’t imagine all the sermons that were preached from it; how many bible verses were read from behind it.
When I was a kid growing up on Trace Creek, we would ride our bikes past this church. It had already ceased it regular operation after about 100 years of ministry. That ministry was never big. But it left a legacy. Once a year when I was a kid, the families of the old saints of Walnut Grove would gather for a homecoming service and a potluck dinner in the field beside the church. I remember going to those meetings and asking why there was a stove in the middle of the room, hearing the preacher pound the pulpit (that now sits in our church), and of course eating the phenomenal food and running around the field after church. What I was witnessing was legacy.
Legacy is something left behind or a cause put into effect as a result of one’s works. In the case of Walnut Grove, the legacy was the impact on the people that remained after the saints of the church had passed away. Now, it would be easy to say, “There’s no legacy here. The church ceased to exist!” But that’s just it – legacy is what comes after we cease to exist. In the case of this church, we see a ministry that began a couple miles out a dirt road, close to family farms. The circuit riding preachers ministered to poor families who worked hard on their homesteads and didn’t have vehicles to drive to churches in town. For the first people living out my holler, this little church house was a lighthouse beckoning them to the gospel.
As time went on, their children and grandchildren enjoyed the advancements of American culture and technology. Naturally, it became commonplace to drive places and attend church in town where they bought their groceries. But the testimony of these saints lives in the impact on their families. Their faith was so engrained that their descendants gathered annually just to remember their commitment.
One day, if Jesus tarries, New Heights Church will cease to exist. Local churches begin and end, but the eternal church is an eternal entity. Scripturally, we know that no church closes its doors outside of God’s sovereign plan. In fact, Revelation 2:5 shows us that Jesus is often active in the ending of local churches. And although I hope New Heights Church lives on longer than I do, my primary goal at our church is not the quantity of years in our run, but the quality of our run.
August 19, 2022 marks exactly 10 years since the first Sunday service of what we call New Heights Church. It’s been an amazing decade of ministry in which I’ve seen all five of my kids baptized along with 218 other people. It’s beyond my mental capacity to trace the circles of influence of all those people and my prayer is that even if New Heights itself is a relatively small church, with what could be a relatively short-lived run of ministry, that the impact of our church would be more outward than inward. I pray that we wouldn’t just see our church as a place for us to become better people, but a family for us to join, which lives on mission to see more people impacted.
My youngest son recently told me that he wanted to be like me when he’s a grown-up. “You don’t need to be exactly like me. Be yourself!” I told him. “But I am thrilled that I can be an example for you.” He explained, “Well I don’t want to do your exact same job, but I think I might want to be a pastor one day. But I’ll probably not live in Milton. Maybe Cherokee, North Carolina. But I could be a pastor there…and a motorcycle mechanic too.” The kid’s got big dreams, I tell you. Even if that doesn’t play out exactly like his 7-year-old mind is planning it, I do realize that many (if not most) of the people in our building on Sunday mornings won’t be in our building 10-20 years from now.
Ministry success is never about retention and survival. It’s about faithfulness. If we’re faithful to proclaim the true gospel, serve others, love well, and pursue holiness, then we absolutely cannot lose in this mission. God accomplishes his purpose where he will, and we get to participate. The story of Walnut Grove teaches us to pursue faithfulness more than success or influence, and I’m thankful for that reminder. When I stand behind the Trace Creek pulpit to preach a sermon, I can remind myself that my worth isn’t found in how many people I’m preaching to, but in Christ himself. And that knowledge in gospel centrality is the legacy that I pray will be the prominent mark of my ministry.