Post by philiprosenthal on Aug 23, 2006 14:56:23 GMT
Did Rice Broocks learn from the failure of Maranatha?
RICE BROOCKS WORDS FOLLOW:
(Part of EveryNation in our Generation, Rice Broocks, page 48-51)
A defining moment was coming for us all. I tell this not to point a finger at anyone or dig up past pain. Instead, my hope is to shed the light of grace on these events and help people look redemptively at any negative experience that may have caused them to lose hope and drop out of the raceā¦..
As I was describing, many wonderful things were happening in the ministry while, at the same time, storm clouds were beginning to gather. Phil, Steve and I had joined the ministry of Maranatha after becoming Christians and were drawn to it because of the commitment they preached as well as the power of the Holy Spirit they upheld. Though there were negatives, we knew there was no such thing as a "perfect church." The fact that the leaders truly had a heart for God kept us believing that these issues would eventually get worked out. Still, concerns surrounding the ministry began to surface. Many felt that some of its practices were heavy-handed and legalistic. There were also concerns that mysticism had crept in, placing too much emphasis on subjective experiences rather than the Word of God. The latter was a charge leveled against many in the charismatic community from the traditional Church at large. These issues weighed heavily on the hearts of most of the leaders. Attempts were made to bring about reforms and extricate these negatives from the mix. In retrospect, it was a "coming of age" moment for many of us as young leaders to grapple with such important issues.
These issues all came to a head at the end of 1989. The organization was dismantled and all its affiliated ministries released to follow the leading of the Spirit as they saw fit. As relieved as we were that the ordeal was over, the following season would prove to be one of the most difficult of our lives. I'm sure that was the case for many others. Yes, I had suffered heartaches after I came to Christ, but watching a ministry end was deeply painful. This pain is inevitable when churches split or close their doors. When relationships fail or when visions die, it can shipwreck the destiny of many. I've spoken to pastors of churches from many diverse backgrounds and the fallout of ministry failure is always very difficult, especially for the young. In the midst of our situation, I remembered Jesus' words to Peter, "I have prayed for you that your faith should not fail:" He concluded with a message of purpose and hope: "Strengthen your brothers' 116
It has been said that you learn more in failure than you do in success. That may be true, but only if you get up and keep trying to succeed. Deep down, the knowledge that my calling was not from an organization but from God was undeniable. As Hebrews says, "Hold fast to the beginning of our assurance firm until the end."' I was holding fast. My whole passion was to simply see the miracle of salvation that had happened to my family and me, happen to as many people as possible. That motivation kept me going, and it kept me encouraging my closest Mends to not lose sight of the Lord in the midst of turmoil.
Looking back now, it's obvious that God was orchestrating all these changes for His purposes and everyone's good. In hindsight, many of he organizations birthed in the sixties and seventies during the "Jesus Movement" or the Charismatic Movement, majored in zeal and boldness while minimising theological training. While reacting to "dead religion" the proverbial "baby" was thrown out with the "bath water." Surveying the landscape of many different church and parachurch movements, the result seemed to be a very short shelf life.
NURTURED IN THE WILDERNESS
As the year 1990 dawned, it felt like the whole world was getting a fresh start. The Berlin Wall had collapsed and a new spirit of freedom and opportunity was spreading. At the beginning of that year, my family and I moved to Midland, Texas, to seek the Lord for direction during this new season. Russ Austin, a long-time friend and pastor of Mid-Cities Community Church, invited us to come and be a part of his team for "as long as we wanted." Though West Texas looked like a wilderness in the natural sense, it turned out to be a spiritual oasis. The people of his church rallied around us like family. I will always be grateful to that church in Midland for taking such good care of us in this critical season.
During this time, I began to reflect deeply on the lessons of the past. Reading books, talking to Christian leaders and studying Church history confirmed my sense that none of the problems I had encountered were new. I heard somewhere that, "Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it:" There was a hunger to not just learn from the mistakes of the past, but to learn how to build spiritually in a way that would stand the test of time. The more I prayed, the more I realized that, in order to prepare for the future, I needed a deeper and stronger foundation both theologically and devotionally. I wanted not just to know more about God, but to know Him in a deeper way. Loving God more always results in loving people more. God is looking for leaders who are not just bold, but gentle and caring when it comes to His Church. As George Whitefield said, "It is not enough to love to preach; we must love those to whom we preach:" The Bible describes David as a man after God's own heart. He not only loved God but was chosen to lead God's people because he would shepherd them with "integrity of heart." The Lord loves His sheep and wants them led by those who love them, too.
BACK TO THE CLASSROOM
With all these things in mind, I enrolled in Reformed Theological Seminary in Jackson, Mississippi. Over the next two years, I would be exposed to some wonderfully gifted and godly men and women who helped me understand the strengths and weaknesses of the Christian faith throughout tile generations. I had a fresh hunger, almost to tile point of desperation, to find the necessary balance theologically and
practically, that would produce churches and ministries that could bear lasting fruit. This season of concentrated study and reflection was an incredible time of restoration and refueling. I learned as much outside of class as I did inside, through lengthy discussions with professors and other leaders from various theological backgrounds. As I wrote in the book, New Apostolic Churches, one of my professors in a candid moment said, "We Presbyterians can build a great fireplace, but we have a hard time building a fire." I responded, "We charismatics can sure build a fire, but we tend to burn things down."
Throughout history there have been countless movements that God raised up to impact the world and fulfill His purposes. At the same time, there has been a cycle of extremism between scholasticism, which in attempting to focus only on the "truth" ends up squelching the life of the Spirit and any supernatural manifestations, and mysticism, which tends to ignore the boundaries of the objective truth of the Word of God and places the emphasis on subjective experiences.
Those who kept the right focus on the Apostolic Mandate and avoided the extremes in either direction were able to last longer than others and produce the fruit of the kingdom in the lives of individuals and cultures. This whole scenario reminds me of a runner in a marathon. Along the way, various people offer you water to refresh you so that you can keep running. For some strange reason, many in the charismatic movement tend to forget the race and chase the person offering the water. They make "the refreshing" the focus. If the enemy can't hinder you from receiving the power of the Spirit, he will attempt to trivialize it by tempting you to major on esoteric expressions that ultimately leave the person emotionally stirred, but unchanged. This pattern is repeated generation after generation.
THE ABOVE ARE RICE BROOCKS WORDS - NOT MINE
RICE BROOCKS WORDS FOLLOW:
(Part of EveryNation in our Generation, Rice Broocks, page 48-51)
A defining moment was coming for us all. I tell this not to point a finger at anyone or dig up past pain. Instead, my hope is to shed the light of grace on these events and help people look redemptively at any negative experience that may have caused them to lose hope and drop out of the raceā¦..
As I was describing, many wonderful things were happening in the ministry while, at the same time, storm clouds were beginning to gather. Phil, Steve and I had joined the ministry of Maranatha after becoming Christians and were drawn to it because of the commitment they preached as well as the power of the Holy Spirit they upheld. Though there were negatives, we knew there was no such thing as a "perfect church." The fact that the leaders truly had a heart for God kept us believing that these issues would eventually get worked out. Still, concerns surrounding the ministry began to surface. Many felt that some of its practices were heavy-handed and legalistic. There were also concerns that mysticism had crept in, placing too much emphasis on subjective experiences rather than the Word of God. The latter was a charge leveled against many in the charismatic community from the traditional Church at large. These issues weighed heavily on the hearts of most of the leaders. Attempts were made to bring about reforms and extricate these negatives from the mix. In retrospect, it was a "coming of age" moment for many of us as young leaders to grapple with such important issues.
These issues all came to a head at the end of 1989. The organization was dismantled and all its affiliated ministries released to follow the leading of the Spirit as they saw fit. As relieved as we were that the ordeal was over, the following season would prove to be one of the most difficult of our lives. I'm sure that was the case for many others. Yes, I had suffered heartaches after I came to Christ, but watching a ministry end was deeply painful. This pain is inevitable when churches split or close their doors. When relationships fail or when visions die, it can shipwreck the destiny of many. I've spoken to pastors of churches from many diverse backgrounds and the fallout of ministry failure is always very difficult, especially for the young. In the midst of our situation, I remembered Jesus' words to Peter, "I have prayed for you that your faith should not fail:" He concluded with a message of purpose and hope: "Strengthen your brothers' 116
It has been said that you learn more in failure than you do in success. That may be true, but only if you get up and keep trying to succeed. Deep down, the knowledge that my calling was not from an organization but from God was undeniable. As Hebrews says, "Hold fast to the beginning of our assurance firm until the end."' I was holding fast. My whole passion was to simply see the miracle of salvation that had happened to my family and me, happen to as many people as possible. That motivation kept me going, and it kept me encouraging my closest Mends to not lose sight of the Lord in the midst of turmoil.
Looking back now, it's obvious that God was orchestrating all these changes for His purposes and everyone's good. In hindsight, many of he organizations birthed in the sixties and seventies during the "Jesus Movement" or the Charismatic Movement, majored in zeal and boldness while minimising theological training. While reacting to "dead religion" the proverbial "baby" was thrown out with the "bath water." Surveying the landscape of many different church and parachurch movements, the result seemed to be a very short shelf life.
NURTURED IN THE WILDERNESS
As the year 1990 dawned, it felt like the whole world was getting a fresh start. The Berlin Wall had collapsed and a new spirit of freedom and opportunity was spreading. At the beginning of that year, my family and I moved to Midland, Texas, to seek the Lord for direction during this new season. Russ Austin, a long-time friend and pastor of Mid-Cities Community Church, invited us to come and be a part of his team for "as long as we wanted." Though West Texas looked like a wilderness in the natural sense, it turned out to be a spiritual oasis. The people of his church rallied around us like family. I will always be grateful to that church in Midland for taking such good care of us in this critical season.
During this time, I began to reflect deeply on the lessons of the past. Reading books, talking to Christian leaders and studying Church history confirmed my sense that none of the problems I had encountered were new. I heard somewhere that, "Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it:" There was a hunger to not just learn from the mistakes of the past, but to learn how to build spiritually in a way that would stand the test of time. The more I prayed, the more I realized that, in order to prepare for the future, I needed a deeper and stronger foundation both theologically and devotionally. I wanted not just to know more about God, but to know Him in a deeper way. Loving God more always results in loving people more. God is looking for leaders who are not just bold, but gentle and caring when it comes to His Church. As George Whitefield said, "It is not enough to love to preach; we must love those to whom we preach:" The Bible describes David as a man after God's own heart. He not only loved God but was chosen to lead God's people because he would shepherd them with "integrity of heart." The Lord loves His sheep and wants them led by those who love them, too.
BACK TO THE CLASSROOM
With all these things in mind, I enrolled in Reformed Theological Seminary in Jackson, Mississippi. Over the next two years, I would be exposed to some wonderfully gifted and godly men and women who helped me understand the strengths and weaknesses of the Christian faith throughout tile generations. I had a fresh hunger, almost to tile point of desperation, to find the necessary balance theologically and
practically, that would produce churches and ministries that could bear lasting fruit. This season of concentrated study and reflection was an incredible time of restoration and refueling. I learned as much outside of class as I did inside, through lengthy discussions with professors and other leaders from various theological backgrounds. As I wrote in the book, New Apostolic Churches, one of my professors in a candid moment said, "We Presbyterians can build a great fireplace, but we have a hard time building a fire." I responded, "We charismatics can sure build a fire, but we tend to burn things down."
Throughout history there have been countless movements that God raised up to impact the world and fulfill His purposes. At the same time, there has been a cycle of extremism between scholasticism, which in attempting to focus only on the "truth" ends up squelching the life of the Spirit and any supernatural manifestations, and mysticism, which tends to ignore the boundaries of the objective truth of the Word of God and places the emphasis on subjective experiences.
Those who kept the right focus on the Apostolic Mandate and avoided the extremes in either direction were able to last longer than others and produce the fruit of the kingdom in the lives of individuals and cultures. This whole scenario reminds me of a runner in a marathon. Along the way, various people offer you water to refresh you so that you can keep running. For some strange reason, many in the charismatic movement tend to forget the race and chase the person offering the water. They make "the refreshing" the focus. If the enemy can't hinder you from receiving the power of the Spirit, he will attempt to trivialize it by tempting you to major on esoteric expressions that ultimately leave the person emotionally stirred, but unchanged. This pattern is repeated generation after generation.
THE ABOVE ARE RICE BROOCKS WORDS - NOT MINE