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"It's a quarter to three and there's no one in the place except
you and me."After all,
this is church . . .who expects anyone to hang around? No doubt, even "you and
me" would be long gone by a quarter to three. Not so with the 300+ members of New
Hampton Presbyterian Church in Charlotte, North Carolina. Unlike most churchgoers on a
Sunday morning, these exuberant worshippers don't automatically exit en masse when the
clock strikes twelve—they find plenty of good reasons to hold off on the noon repast.
First of all, there's the music: "Joyful, Joyful" describes 70-year old Rose
Gillespie who was born into the church. "Best music in Charlotte," says a
20-year old local college student from New York. Then there are those hugs—warm,
engulfing envelopments given in ample abundance by members who have
almost made reaching out and touching someone a doctrine. Call it their own brand of
Reformed Theology; here, reforming non-committal "We go where the wind blows"
baby boomers is a way of life. While some pastors severely chide those with C.V.S (Chronic
Visitors Syndrome) as being "potted plants on wheels" who need to put down
roots, New Hampton's Rev. L. Bryant Parker takes a different tact. After all, if even
plants need a little TLC before they can take root and grow, why should human beings be
any different?
Please Squeeze
According to "hug experts" a human being needs two hugs a day just to
survive, four for maintenance and a whopping six to grow and thrive.* New Hampton members
guarantee at least that many—and more—in just one hour. "Hug two people you
like, then two people you don't like", bellows preacher Parker on any given Sunday
morning. Arms are instantly extended as each recipient of an embrace counts off his or her
four hugs. The genuineness of the gesture is never questioned—unless, of course, one
happens to be someone's third or fourth hug.
What begins with a call to arms soon becomes an invitation. Not necessarily an invitation
to join the church—there's never any pressure  there—but
to get involved. "Reverend Parker hugs everybody and then says, 'Come on, we'll give
you something to do,'" says Estelle Davis, who at 70+ has yet to slow down. She is
involved in at least six official ministries—more, if you count all the children who
call her "Mom." Like her pastor, Estelle is not bashful about recruiting
workers. Without quite knowing what hit them, a first-time visitor often finds that
they've signed up to sing in the choir. By the next week he or she may have been recruited
to help teach a bible study to third graders. Or asked to become an acolyte. And this
often happens before they've even joined the church.
How does all this willing and eager involvement happen? It could be compared to going to
grandma's house—or a family reunion. You walk in the door, smell the freshly baked
cookies, sit on the comfortable chintz sofa, get plenty of hugs from lots of relatives but
shortly after that somebody—maybe a first cousin—hands
you a dishtowel and asks you to pitch in and "do your chores." You don't mind
because it's family. Pastor Parker uses a more utilitarian phrase for such engagement.
"Worship plus two" — a concept where churchgoers are asked to be involved
in two ministries besides worship—ideally, one in the area of mission and the other
within the church. It's an idea that Parker acknowledges is a melding of Rick Warren's The
Purpose Driven Church and William Easum's Sacred Cows Make Gourmet Hamburgers.
"The Purpose-Driven Church gave us ideas about evangelizing and about
establishing ministries—particularly missions—in certain ways," says
Parker. "From Sacred Cows we developed the idea that everything shouldn't be
top driven—in other words, we don't want "trickle down" church. . . we have
leaders of people, not leaders of committees. They are people who care about other people
and who then empower them. And then you tell the people in your church that you're going
to give them positions of responsibility, but at the same time, you make them accountable.
And so our motto is 'We are purpose driven and permission giving.'"
The results? "'Worship plus two' did it," says long-time member
"Major" King. "We've gone from cold and stoic to warm, inviting and
involved."
It wasn't always this way. In fact, just little under four years ago, New Hampton was
ready to be chopped up and added to the funeral pyre of obsolete religious relics.
According to Estelle Davis, New Hampton had
long ago lost that lovin' feelin'. "We had pastors who just did their sermons and
didn't do anything else and didn't encourage us to do nothin'," says Estelle.
"It was dying, but it's very alive now!" "Major" King agrees. He
waited ten years before joining, because it wasn't very fulfilling. "When Rev. Parker
came into town he brought with him a whole different spirit and attitude," says King.
"Church went from boring to very uplifting and spirit-filled," says King.
"And, he adds, it keeps on getting better!"
Hampton's Hero
While describing Parker as "the hero who rode into town on a white horse to
save the day" might be a bit of a stretch, it's not too far off the mark. Often it
has been Caucasian churches in inner city areas that get reclaimed by minority
groups—generally African American. Those minority groups then turn around and build a
thriving, inner-city church. But in this case it was an African American church that was
facing decline—the neighborhood was becoming not only more European American, but
economically diverse as well. Although some of those changes were obvious even to the
casual observer, (new businesses, a thriving university and some corporate headquarter
relocations like Wachovia and Bank of America), both Parker and Charlotte Presbytery
Redevelopment Director Owen Carriker decided to dig beneath the surface to get more
detailed demographics. This kind of information was necessary before Pastor Parker could
formulate a vision—one that was already beginning to stir deep within in his heart.
It was also a requirement if they were going to receive any redevelopment help from the
General Assembly. To that end, Carriker conducted a workshop where he used Percept's
Ministry Area Profile and their other demographic tools to get a detailed assessment of
the community.
"What we learned was the area had grown around the church leaving this little African
American community with just three streets kind of  enclosed,"
says Parker. Suddenly they found themselves being the last of the black community in the
University City area—sort of like the Last of the Mohicans! So we had to figure out,
how do we begin to redevelop, how do we begin to catch up with where they are? Why are we
sitting here in poverty and everything around us is so plush? It said to us a couple of
things: one, we want to be who we are, but, at the same time, we have to diversify if we
are going to grow. And so we began to look at diversification, and in doing so, we made
some very intentional moves."
Part of moving intentionally means, first, know your audience. During the workshop, Parker
got a picture of what the changing community surrounding New Hampton looked like. It
included Gen-X (Survivor) college students, a strong corporate contingent and young
families who were moving into the new subdivisions from all different parts of the
country. Parker took the information and ran with it, adopting the Nike School of
Theology's maxim— "Just Do It." New Hampton's presence was soon felt. For
example, New Hampton (a largely African American church), was the only Presbyterian church
asked to participate in an incoming freshman mixer of over 500 students who themselves
were about 90-95% non-African American. And New Hampton's New Life Center, located on 10
acres of land that was donated by a developer, has now become a recreational hub for
families moving into the community. The center also houses an ongoing homeless ministry
that was on the verge of closing its doors until the newly invigorated congregation
revived it. In total there are now 24 active ministries with high member (and non-member)
involvement housed at New Hampton. Before, there were only about five ministries with very
little member involvement or effectiveness.
"Percept's Ministry Area Profile and other demographics helped to provide the vision
for New Hampton," says Carriker. "Quite frankly,
New Hampton was staring at either continuing to supply preachers or closing—their
future was very limited. It was about this time that L.Bryant Parker came on board; he
provided both the vision and the strong leadership they needed . . . he became permission
giving by saying, 'Here, if you have an interest in this, take it and go and be blessed!'
So, while the materials pointed them in a direction, it was the people themselves who took
ownership of that vision and made it happen."
Thawing Out God's "Frozen Chosen"
But perhaps the single most unifying factor—one that is proving to be the
most successful in transcending ethnicity, race and economic status—is a gospel choir
that is rocking the rafters of this historic 132-year old Presbyterian church.
"We looked at Percept's demographics and discovered who the people were who were
coming into this area—mostly they were coming from California, Illinois, New York and
places like that," says Parker. "So we asked ourselves: 'What is the Chicago
Mass Choir singing, what is West Angeles singing, what is the Brooklyn Tabernacle doing?'  And particularly when we talk about the Brooklyn Tabernacle—well,
they are probably one of the most diversified praise and worship choirs around: Reggae,
Latin, Jewish, Gospel, Christian contemporary, folk music—there's everything in the
world there. And you have Puerto Ricans, Africans, Caucasians and Asians all merged
together. So I can see this church becoming a Brooklyn Tabernacle in the Presbyterian
Church, because we have intentionally reached out to this particular, very diverse
community. And really, I thank God, because much of that awareness, that sensitivity, that
deliberateness on our part came because we looked at the Percept resources and we said,
'Okay, this is who we are and this is where we want to go. . . so then, what strategy do
we need to get there? Because we need to be intentional about the growth of this church
and about taking this message of good news—that Christ still has a word for people of
today.'"
 And the word on the streets of Charlotte is getting out. The New Hampton
choir is well on its way to becoming the hottest "free" concert ticket south of
New York. Students from Appalachian State University now come to worship with New
Hamptoners, injecting their own blend of folk guitar music. Even a Christian motorcycle
gang—leather jackets and all—popped in one Sunday. This kind of convergence is
all the more amazing when you consider that the Charlotte Presbytery was, by all accounts,
the last Presbytery to integrate after the post-Civil War merger of the Northern and
Southern churches. Today, they hold the distinction of being the only African American
church that "just happens to be Presbyterian" in the University City
area—an area that's been identified as the newly emerging place of economic and
social power in Charlotte.
Moving up to Zion
Producing growth in a dying church is no easy task—it's usually easier to
tear down and start over. New Hampton has definitely been the exception. From a dwindling
membership of little less than 100 members three years ago, to over 300 (54 joined just in
the first year alone), New Hampton is a hopping, happening church. And in about a year,  after
they move up to the very visible adjacent corner property that was bought by the
congregation, those numbers are expected to soar.
Not that L. Bryant Parker is looking to become yet another mega celebrity-church. He makes
it clear that he doesn't want to become so big that he can no longer minister to each
member. "We are trying to be a community of people who are warm and inviting, and who
accept all who want a real relationship with Jesus," says Parker. "I want to be
with the people—not just take their social security money and then send them a letter
saying, 'Thank you, send some more; but I can't come because I don't even know your name
or what you look like when you contract leukemia.'"
That seems unlikely to happen. It's doubtful that members like Estelle, Rose and
"Major" will let it. For them, interdependency and true biblical  commitment—one
to another—throbs too deeply in their veins to be so easily displaced by a formulaic
"Ten Best Steps to Church Growth" strategy. A strategy that sometimes programs
out the deeper expressions of the spirit—be they divine or human. For all the
excitement about God doing a "new thing," they aren't going to forsake the old
just to produce a "Brave New Church." A.K. Chesterson said, "Any man who is
cut off from the past, is a man most unjustly disinherited." Pastor L. Bryant Parker
would agree with that.
"New Hampton is a growing, excited, contagious church doing wonderful things. Yes, we
are Presbyterians and we stand on that foundation— especially the legacy of freedom
of conscience—but we're not going to be hung up on a 400+-year old tradition,"
says Parker. "In that sense we are not typical—we don't just do hymns and follow
a set liturgy and then we're out by noon. At the same time, we aren't exclusively an
African American church either—or a hip-hop church or a Gen-X church or
whatever—because the kingdom of God is inclusive. There is male and female; there is
young and old; and there is black and there is white. There are all kinds ethnicities and
every kind of thing that is good in the Kingdom." - Jenni Keast |
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