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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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