Author: Fred Shope

I had lost my hero, my adviser, my example. That next Christmas was hard. The biggest thing about the celebration of Christmas for me had always been family, and now I was an orphan.

At the same time a group of us in our church had decided that things needed to change or we could no longer continue there. A few months before this, we had gone to two Sunday morning worship services. One was a traditional service and the other was a more contemporary service. The church was losing people and it was thought that if we provided opportunity for people to worship as they preferred, it would strengthen and grow the church. The contemporary service quickly became just like the traditional service, only with cooler music.

Our group of “revolutionaries” believed that we needed to approach “church” from a fresh angle. We agreed that the church needed to reach into the community around us. We began to meet weekly to set out a course of action and to plan the weekly gatherings. At first, things were moving in a direction that really encouraged me. I was an elder, and had agreed to become an elder in order to try and influence the church in a direction that was more “emerging”. Someone accused us trying to break away and start a new church. I said that I had no interest in planting a new church. (Famous last words)

As time went on I realized that the only way we were going to do what we believed God wanted us to do was to actually begin a new church under the auspices of the original church, with our own leadership. Unfortunately, there were a number of people in leadership, as well as other influential members, who wanted to have a say in what we were doing. We were accused of dividing the church and conditions were put on what we were doing. The conditions were probably good but they essentially put brakes on our efforts. As time went on, the enthusiasm for “doing church” differently waned and the worship service reverted to same old same old with cooler music. At the same time, there were positive signs, so I still planned to stay around and minister where I could.

Toward the end of the summer, I heard about a possible church plant here in Rock Hill. I was immediately intrigued. Some of you know Frank Hamrick. I contacted him and as we talked and got to know each other a little bit, God began to nudge me in the direction of helping in the plant. As time went on and I began to read and study, I became increasingly convinced of the need for a new church in Rock Hill. God continued to work on me, and by the end of December I decided to leave the current church and help Frank.

So now, I’m about to set off on another leg of my journey. Where this one will lead only God knows. If there’s on thing I’ve learned through the years it’s that no matter how much the road twists and turns, and no matter how dark things get, my Father is with me and is leading me exactly where he wants me to go. That makes the trip an adventure rather than a chore.

Should be fun.

When we last left our hero, he was wondering what was going to happen next.

I was without work. I thought I was going to realize the fulfillment of a long held dream of coaching college basketball. So, I sent out resumes and waited. I talked to every coach I knew. And I waited. The summer came and went and still no coaching job. In fact, there were no jobs at all on the horizon. We didn’t feel free to move to another area because my parents and my wife’s parents had moved here to be near us and they were in declining health and needed our help. The search continued. As all this was going on, we had to give our cocker spaniel to the pound because he was old and had too much wrong with him for us to afford to have him treated. It was not a fun summer. About a week after we gave our dog away, I was out on yet another job search. As I drove past the animal shelter, I lost it. I began to pray, cry, and yell at God. I even cussed (I know that shocks some of you, but that’s the way it is). I told God that if I had anywhere else to go, I’d chuck this whole Christian thing. I realized that, like the disciples, I had nowhere else to go, that Jesus was the only one worth following.

In September of 2005, I was hired by a tour bus company to drive. I was glad because it would give me a chance to travel. As it turned out, the majority of the job consisted of leaving the house at 4:00 AM, driving to a National Guard camp eighty miles away, and shuttling troops back and forth from the camp to a nearby army base so they could be processed for active duty in Iraq. Most of the day was spent sitting on the bus and waiting for the soldiers to get their paperwork in order. I would usually arrive back home sometime after 10:00 PM. Because of this schedule, I usually only worked three days a week, so the income wasn’t real good. The company also had no health insurance for their employees.

At first, I wondered what I had done wrong, wondered why God had “put me on the sidelines”. I felt like I was in a desert. Sitting on the bus gave me plenty of opportunity to read, think, and pray. God began to teach me about trust and patience. He reminded me that he was the most important one in my life, and that my identity was in Jesus, not in being a teacher or coach. I began to rethink even more of my assumptions about God, church, and life. At the same time, God was teaching me increasingly to trust him. Jan and I saw God provide for us again and again.

In January 2006, I walked out of the desert. I was hired as a teacher’s assistant in a self-contained special education class at a public middle school. The kids I work with all have learning disabilities, some more severe than others. Many of them are from low income families. Quite a change from the Christian schools previously worked in, although not as much as I would have thought. Kids are kids wherever you go.

Also in January, both my mom and my mother-in-law went into a nursing home. Jan’s mom suffered a stroke, and my mom was suffering from advanced Alzhiemer’s. Our ministry to our parents changed somewhat, as we were visiting our moms and essentially being there for our dads. It was hard to go into a place full of people who were essentially waiting to die and visit Mom, knowing that she would never leave in this life.

I’ll give your eyes a rest and write more later.

It’s another day, so I’ll continue my story.

About three years ago, God started doing some things in me that would change the way I saw life and ministry. Through a “chance” look at a magazine, I discovered TheOoze.com and immediately began to read the articles and enter into the discussions. I became aware that there were a lot of others out there that just didn’t quite fit in the cubbyholes that “church” tried to put us in. I began to read authors outside of what I knew as mainstream Christianity people like Brian McLaren, Leonard Sweet, Phillip Yancey, Mike Yaconelli, John Fischer, Rob Bell, N.T. Wright, and others.

God began to show me that at least part of what I had been taught and believed was not Biblical, but was simply a part of the culture of mid to late twentieth century America. So, now my rebellious spirit had a legitimate focus. Now, I saw myself as sort of a “missionary to the fundamentalists”. I began to teach some of these things to my middle school Bible classes. I tried to convey to them that Christianity is more than just mentally assenting to certain propositions and following certain rules. Hopefully some of them got it and will spread the subversiveness.

Unfortunately, this chapter in my life was to come to a rather abrupt end. The school decided to basically eliminate all the middle school teaching positions and give those classes to the high school teachers. They also decided to eliminate the athletic director position, and since I was both a middle school teacher and the athletic director, my contract was not removed.

More to come…