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IIn the midst of a February snowstorm that weighted
down a small central Pennsylvania town like a thick Amish quilt, most of the town's
multitude of churches had closed its doors, barring all but the faithful from worshiping
together. As it turned out, at least one church in Mount Joy—which also happened to
be its oldest congregation—kept its doors open, welcoming all who were willing to
brave the elements into its centuries-old stone edifice. Donegal Presbyterian Church was a
historical landmark that had survived more than a few snowstorms in its 282 years—and
even a few wars.
 Scotch Presbyterians are a hardy lot. And known to be
faithful churchgoers. Some, like Colonel Alexander Lowrey, a Scotch-Irish senator whose
father, Lazarus, was resurrected from the death grip of oppressive British rule back in
Ulster, Ireland, have hung around Donegal for around 274 years. Alexander, who died in
1805, at the age of 79, is laid to rest in the graveyard that lies adjacent to the church.
But on a sweltering hot summer morning in 1777, Lowrey, who was then 51 years old, was in
church. Though his body was positioned tense and upright in the neck-high wooden pew, his
mind, no doubt, was elsewhere as he listened to the sermon of the Reverend Colin
McFarquhar. Lowrey, the commander of the 3rd battalion of The Donegal Township Riflemen of
Lancaster County had a lot weighing on his mind. The winds of war were blowing, and he
would have to be ready at a moment's notice to defend his home against the encroaching
British. That moment came sooner than expected. Donegal Presbyterian was the first place
the messenger would come, bringing the bad tidings that the dreaded Red Coats were
marching north. Reverend McFarquhar immediately halted his sermon, and the entire
congregation, including Colonel Lowrey, amassed outside and gathered around a sturdy oak
just beyond the front door of the
church. All present joined hands to pray and pledge to fight against the British to the
end . . . as God was their witness.
The tree where the soldiers and civilians alike had gathered to pray would become known as
The Witness Tree. Sadly, after having survived 250 years, it was cut down on June 3, 1991.
The remains, now affectionately called The Witness Stump, are still visible—rooted
deep in the soil where the people of Donegal Church once stood, tightly clasping hands
together and bowing their heads in fervent prayer to intercede for their new country.Healthy Choice
In the year 2000, 281 years after the original church was formed, Donegal was a
healthy church. In part, this was due to the faithfulness and devotion of its members, but
a large part was due to the vitality of its youthful members. Less than 25% are over the
age of 65, a statistic that already makes them distinct among many Presbyterian churches.
But despite these factors, not long ago Donegal came to realize that they had become
somewhat insular, too comfortable in their centuries-old historic church. Donegal has
always had a heart for the hurting, but until then their missions methodology was what
many churches employ: the proverbial "shotgun approach."
Ruthann Dwyer, a deacon at Donegal, has seen the effect of that hit-and-miss shotgun kind
of planning in more than one church.
"Many churches, including Donegal, have tons and tons of good ideas. . .but you often
just end up doing a little bit here and a little bit there," says Dwyer. "And
while they're wonderful ideas and worthy of being done, the fact is that not all ideas are
really what your church should be doing because that is not what God intends for that
church."
Finding out what God's purpose was for their church became Donegal's all-important quest.
Their Presbytery, the Presbytery of Donegal, having seen ReVision
used successfully in other churches, recommended Percept's ReVision to (1) help discover
God's mission for their church, (2) help locate their target ministry area, and (3)
determine what type of ministries they needed to launch that would reach both existing and
potential church members. According to Bruce Stevens, the Evangelism & Church
Development Associate for the Synod of
the Trinity and ReVision facilitator (he's done ReVision for 16 other churches),
Donegal was an ideal candidate for ReVision.
"It was clear from the git-go that Donegal went into the process looking for the best
for their church—and they were rewarded because of that," says Stevens.
"They didn't go into it with the idea of solving a particular problem, or to resolve
conflict, or with an agenda. The churches that use ReVision for that purpose invariably
fail."
As it turns out, by using ReVision, Donegal was rewarded well beyond what they envisioned.
After the initial presentation of the demographic data from Percept's Context
report, a total of 80 out of 218 members (Revision recommends at least 25%) participated
in ReVision's small groups, then spread their new-found enthusiasm to the rest of the
congregation. From these groups five new ministries were born.
The demographic data about their 7-mile ministry area held a few surprises for many
members. For example, Ruthann Dwyer was surprised to find that both the church attendance
and the faith receptivity was lower than the national average—especially since they
were in the middle of what was considered the Pennsylvania Bible Belt. "We thought
everybody in town was in church—now we say, "Boy, there really is a big mission
field!" says Dwyer.
Leaving the Back Door Open
One of the more significant results of the ReVision process was the working of a
miracle—Scots parting with their money. Approved by the Session just a month ago, a
1.2 to 1.5 million building budget will officially be presented to the entire congregation
on March 30th. It will hardly be a frivolous expenditure. Space at Donegal is sorely
needed, especially with the rapid growth of the second service, named The Back Door Church
by the Revision-birthed committee.
Providing a different kind of Presbyterian experience, this more contemporary style
service (beginning right after the Christian Education classes) was conceived out of
criteria identified by Revision's congregational survey concerning their own needs, as
well as the surrounding community's, for worship.
Frank Harvey, who joined ReVision late in the process (he and his wife are new to the
church) was on the  Second Service committee and instrumental in
launching The Back Door Church. He admits that when first hearing of the need for a second
service, he thought it would suffice to just re-run the first service. Harvey even thought
the name "Back Door" was too down market.
But being Presbyterians, who practically order dinner by committee, they could pretty much
guarantee that what kind of church they'd start, or even what it would be called, would
not be up to just one person. That's because committees, which could be termed the modern-
day version of the gathering of the Highland Clan (without the swords and kilts) are the
lifeblood of most Presbyterian churches.
"Many voices—pro and con, good ideas and not-so-good ideas—were
heard," says Harvey. "Because the beauty of a committee is that you're able to
share ideas, pray and think about those ideas and actually look at them as non threatening
to your own."
Fortunately, the name, "The Back Door Church," quickly grew on Harvey. Perhaps
that's because it's hard to argue with success. In their first few weeks alone, the new
service had 50 or so people—double what they expected. Fifteen of those people were
new to Donegal altogether—a promising sign that they weren't just providing a
transfusion for existing members. Apparently the Arlo Guthrie "Come on in, it's
around the back, just a half mile off the railroad track" approach had served to
break down barriers both within and without the church.
"The way The Back Door Church is structured, and the style of the service, makes the
congregation feel less like a congregation and more
like a group of friends—it's much more intimate," says Harvey. "Even though
I personally prefer a more traditional approach, others, some of whom surprisingly are in
my age range, prefer the less formal service. That's true particularly of people coming
from the outside, because I think even the word Presbyterian tends to be regarded
as rather uptight, opposed to having a good time and so on. So I think naming the service
as 'The Back Door Church' was very helpful in overcoming those preconceptions."
"The Back Door Church is getting rave reviews," says Pastor McKinnon. "It's
a very exciting and meaningful experience, and what's amazing is that it all came out of
the team that ReVision produced."
Becoming a People of Vision
Part of the reason all five of the committees were successful is because they
were formed by people who had gone through ReVision's 8-week Reflection Series, a portion
of the process that Stevens believes is the heart of ReVision. It's here where church
members bond and the vision begins to be formed. It's also an equipping pastor's dream.
"As a result of ReVision, laity is now doing things that free me up to do projects
that are more church-growth orientated, says McKinnon. "And our stewardship over the
last few years has been going gangbusters."
According to McKinnon, both prayer and biblical reflection were the motivating force for
the groups, as well as for the retreat where both the vision and the mission
statement were formulated. During the entire process McKinnon used a hands-off
approach, giving permission for the lay leaders to fail. His main participation was as a
cheerleader, helping to fan the flame of excitement by each Sunday having group members
share what was going on in each of the ReVision groups.
And, as is often the case with ReVision, out of the small groups, more small groups were
spun. "It's a sneaky way to start regular, ongoing small groups," says Stevens,
"but that just goes to prove the power of that experience."
Ruthann Dwyer believes that ReVision helped to give people the authority to investigate.
"The usual way of having meetings wouldn't have done it—people would just be
sitting around talking, but never have the authority or the backing of Session to get it
done," says Dwyer.
Dwyer's small group was the only one that had teenagers attending—a factor she
believed really livened up the group and gave everyone a needed perspective on the needs
of the youth. One idea from this group was to have a line item put in the church's budget
to help fund the youth group's annual missions trip to upper New York state. Before
ReVision, the responsibility for raising support lay completely on the youth. Now they
feel the church is investing in them financially. The Youth Team has also just started two
new youth groups—junior and senior high—which will be led by two co-leaders.
Beyond that, they will have different people in the church take turns leading the youth
group based on the leaders' individual talents and strengths. That way, more adults will
be involved with the youth, which, Dwyer believes, is ultimately good for the church.
From the Local Missions committee came another new ministry—the use of the church
manse as interim housing for families who, through one reason or another, have found
themselves homeless. Located within walking distance of the church, the manse has had four
families live there. Both the Mt. Joy Housing Assistance Program and the church interview
the families and if they're accepted, they have about three and
one-half months to live there at no charge. The families get free counseling, plus a
mentor supplied by the church. Thus far, the program has been very successful, with all of
the families getting back on their feet within the four-month period.
"I think ReVision allowed us to focus and to come to some agreement about what the
most pressing needs and concerns for the church were, and that included the youth and the
homeless ministry," says Dwyer. "And by being able to say, 'Here are the five
main ministries, this is what you have to do now', it was great. And I don't know any
other way that our church would have come to an agreement about those five things."
A Room with a View
Part of the process of reaching an agreement meant eliminating the essentials
from the non-essentials. Nowhere was this challenge felt more deeply than on the issue of
making changes to a historic church, especially when it came to the building itself and
the surrounding grounds. There is sort of an untouchable
element inherent in this subject which can be antithetical to needed growth. For some, the
tearing down of the Witness Tree was equvalent to the Ents in Lord of the Rings
being mutilated by the wizard Saruman and his army of Orcs; for others, it was a
"non-essential" issue. What was more critical in Dwyer's and other people's
minds were problems like the real likelihood of the church's kitchen stove blowing
up—it was almost as ancient as the church itself.
Yet fears that the architectural integrity of the historic stone structure would be
compromised are unfounded. According to McKinnon, who will unveil the building plans at
the end of this month to the entire congregation, the proposed new addition to Donegal is
designed with the utmost sensitivity, offering both the needed space and modern
conveniences, yet without compromising the historical integrity of the orignial building.
(The church was remodeled in 1850.) The windows will be expansive, opening up the view to
a dense grove of oaks and a magnificent headwater stream that runs through the property.
It will again delight people's senses just as it did the Ulster Scots-Irish who, after
escaping religious persecution almost 300 years ago, happened on the same spot where  Donegal now sits. Instantly these Celtic people of the
earth were reminded of their beloved Ireland—lush and verdant, with a feeling of
divine mystery inherent in the surroundings. It wasn't easy for the wanderlust Scots-Irish
to settle anywhere, but here in this new land they knew they had found their home. For
today's generation of Scots, Scots-Irish Presbyterians and all people who are looking for
a place of spiritual and physical beauty, as well as respite from a chaotic world perhaps
poised on the edge of another war, Donegal will provide a much-needed oasis.
Considering their location, their history and the congregation's relative prosperity, it
would be easy for Donegal to take the path of least resistance. If as Keats says,
"Beauty is truth, and truth is beauty," then Donegal, by its sheer physical
beauty, would need to do nothing else but exist. But rather than rest on the laurels of
their historic bravery, or become prideful over their own surroundings, this centuries-old
church has chosen to step out of their comfort zone and take new risks for the sake of the
Kingdom. -Jenni Bruce Keast |
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