As I sat at my desk this morning, staring at all the accoutrements of academia that surround me, I suddenly realized that I will soon celebrate 40 years of full-time Christian ministry. Over these decades, I’ve been privileged to serve as a pastor, an international missionary and, for the past 23 years, a professor of missions at North Greenville University. I have also served 15 different churches as part-time pastor, interim pastor, teaching pastor, or missions pastor.
Several years ago, it dawned on me that I was absolutely living in a Christian “bubble,” surrounded by people who share my Christian faith and worldview. Oh, I have always been involved in some ministry activity that takes me outside of these comfortable boundaries, but it has largely been a jump-in-and-then-jump-back-out approach to interacting with the raw and unbelieving world “out there.”
Allen McWhite
DETOUR OFF THE EASY ROAD
The prodding of the Holy Spirit finally persuaded me that I had to get off the protected and predictable pathway I was walking as a believer. I became convinced and convicted that Jesus was not very happy that most of my time and energy were being expended in a Christian subculture, even if I was doing “good things” there.
I was hearing, once again, Jesus’ clarion call to purposefully permeate and proactively penetrate a deeply decaying and desperately dark culture. So, after much prayer and soul-searching, I felt led to commit the time and resources necessary to become a reserve police officer. I figured this would surely get me out of my Christian comfort zone! Once I completed training, I joined my hometown police department in Travelers Rest as a part-time law enforcement officer.
Without a doubt, being a cop has given me a myriad of opportunities to minister to lost and hurting people in all kinds of circumstances. However, I never imagined what being in law enforcement would do to me until I encountered the death and destruction in Western North Carolina brought about by Hurricane Helene.
As a police officer, I had a unique platform from which to respond to this tragedy. I had access to areas I would have otherwise never been permitted to enter, and I saw the worst of the worst. I was given unprecedented opportunity to speak a word of hope into deeply shattered lives and communities.
I’ve prayed with people in the aisles at Walmart, cried with them in parking lots and laundromats, and stood beside them as they stared in stunned disbelief at their destroyed homes and businesses. Often, as we gaped in incredulous wonder at the destructive power of such a mighty flood, a torrent of a totally different kind would begin to flow out of these people — a maelstrom of hurt, despair, anger, grief, and hopelessness — all gushing forth at the same time.
I always felt inadequate to deal with those emotional flood waters, but at least I was there in the middle of the swirling debris with them. I could listen to them. I could pray with them. I could walk through the pain with them and try to point them to Jesus.
WHY AREN’T WE ALWAYS OUT THERE?
Then, one afternoon last week, as I was contemplating the destruction in what used to be Chimney Rock, N.C., a riveting revelation gripped my soul. Why does it take a hurricane, or a flood, or some other major crisis or disaster to drive us, as Christ-followers, out into the hurt and pain of our world? Why aren’t we always out there?
The magnitude of physical damage caused by Hurricane Helene is something few of us have previously experienced, but colossal spiritual and emotional devastation is the common and continuous reality that surrounds each of us every single day.
Yes, the Church and the Christian community have been on the leading edge of relief efforts across Western North Carolina since Helene unleashed her fury there. Congregations large and small have overwhelmingly responded to this incredible human need and suffering; yet, aside from such tragedies, we’ve too often cocooned ourselves within our own spiritual sanctuaries and spent most of our energy and resources on ourselves.
THE CHURCH IRRELEVANT
At the same time, we’ve frequently opined that the culture has turned away from the church. Maybe so, but haven’t we also largely turned away from the culture? We’ve been strangely content to let the politicians and the social engineers, the welfare and criminal justice systems, the government agencies and the non-profits do the hard work of grappling with the great societal problems of our day when we should have been on the front lines. Because we’ve too often been absent from these struggles, the church has grown increasingly irrelevant to the people around us.
Hurricane Helene seems to be changing some of that — at least temporarily. Perhaps God is doing something here at which He is an expert: working through tragedy to bring about a greater good.
Could it be that this is a kairos moment for the church, a once-in-a-lifetime heavenly wake-up call for us to recapture our calling? Can we recommit ourselves to penetrating our culture with the life-giving and healing presence of Christ without needing the catalyst of a natural disaster to thrust us out into our communities, our nation, and the nations? I hope and pray so. But what do I know? I’m just a cop.
— Allen McWhite is associate professor and department chair of the Intercultural Studies degree program at NGU and serves as the missions pastor at Brushy Creek Baptist Church in Taylors. He works at the Travelers Rest Police Department.