Asking a blessing for my father
My father died November 7. He was 90 years old, almost 91, and had served as an ordained minister for 64 years, all in Texas. After graduating from seminary, he was called to a congregation in Eliasville, a windblown West Texas town barely on the map these days. Most of his ministry, however, took place in the growing suburbs of Ft. Worth, Dallas, and Houston. In the 1950's he wrote a book entitled Our Cities for Christ, which was a call to the Southern Presbyterian Church to pay attention to the rapidly urbanizing South and to be about the work of organizing new congregations for a post-war America.
This impulse toward evangelism was deeply rooted in my father's theological make-up and represented his most consistent response to the gospel's claim. Stephen Webb, in his book, The Divine Voice, has argued that we show we understand the gospel's claims most truly when we preach its good news, an insight my father would have understood instinctively and with which he would have agreed.
The formative influence upon my father's theology was the Student Volunteer Movement (which he encountered through the YMCA) and its aim "to evangelize the world in this generation." The theological problems with that motto, and indeed, with that movement are almost self-evident to us today even though our achievements seem paltry when compared to those of the generations inspired by such a slogan. My father's heroes were people like John R. Mott and later, Robert E. Speer and before them, Sheldon Jackson.
