Doin' the Stuff" (Remembering John Wimber)" – Sam Storms
John
Wimber, born on February 25, 1934, in Kirksville, Missouri, died ten years ago
today (November 17, 1997). Some of you may never have heard of him, but I doubt
that you have attended a corporate worship service in the past twenty years
that doesn’t reflect his influence.
Wimber
led a colorful life, to say the least, although it isn’t my purpose here to
write a biographical history. Rather, I want to comment briefly, yet very
personally, on the great impact he had on my life and a bit on his influence
within the broader body of Christ. If you are interested in the details of his
life, I recommend three books: John Wimber: The Way it Was (by his wife, Carol
Wimber); John Wimber: A Tribute (edited by David Pytches); and The Quest for
the Radical Middle (by Bill Jackson; this latter volume is a history of the
Vineyard movement, but contains considerable information on John personally).
John
came to be known for many things, having been, before his conversion, an early
member of the group known as the Righteous Brothers (I think John played both
sax and keyboard and did a bit of drumming); as well as briefly serving on the
faculty at Fuller Theological Seminary where he taught a famous course on
signs, wonders, and church growth. But his fame (or infamy, as some would have
it) is from his long tenure as leader of the Association of Vineyard Churches
and his role as senior pastor of the Anaheim Vineyard in California.
Most,
if not all, of John’s books are still in print, including Power Healing and
Power Evangelism, in both of which he argues for the importance of signs and
wonders and the operation of miraculous gifts in the life of the church today.
I
first met John in 1993 when he visited Metro Vineyard Fellowship in Kansas City
where I was serving on pastoral staff. Needless to say, I will never forget it.
We were having dinner at a local restaurant when someone mentioned that I was
an author. “Yes, I know,” said John, looking at me with a mischievous gleam in
his eye. “I read his book.”
About
ten minutes of eating and random conversation passed, during which John, I
suspect, was on the verge of bursting out in laughter. Suddenly something
triggered the light switch in my mind, “Which book?” I asked. He leaned back in
his chair and howled: “You know which one!” Indeed I did. It was my book on
healing in which I had criticized some of John’s comments on the subject. He
would often remind me of it (always with laughter) in the days that followed.
In
August of 1994, I was in Anaheim and spent several hours in his office. As we
left, my eye noticed the infamous book on one of his shelves. I arranged it so
that I was the last to leave, at which time I carefully pulled the volume from
the shelf and quietly (or so I thought) tossed it in the nearest trash can.
John wasn’t fooled, as he turned and said: “Nice try, Sam, but I’ve already
read it!”
I
didn’t agree with John on all points of theology, and he wasn’t in the least
hesitant to challenge me on a few issues where he thought I had gone astray. We
also had some difference of opinion on certain decisions regarding the
direction of the Vineyard as a whole. But that’s not what I remember most about
him. What stands out in my mind is that, regardless of our disagreements, he
always welcomed and affirmed me and, I trust, prayed for me as he promised. His
support and encouragement and our friendship were not suspended on whether or
not we agreed on what ultimately turn out to be secondary issues in the body of
Christ.
To
this day I have nothing but the highest regard and deepest affection for John.
I am also profoundly grateful for what I learned from him concerning the
kingdom of God (John was highly influenced by George Ladd), worship (his role
in the global influence of Vineyard music is incalculable), the importance of
spiritual gifts in the church today, and especially his insights on the nature
of divine healing.
I
don’t know if I read it in one of his books or heard him say it in a sermon
(probably both), but one of the things that has stuck with me these many years
was this comment: “I would rather pray for 1,000 people, even if only one gets
healed, than not to pray for any and none gets healed.” In fact, even if not
even one gets healed, John would faithfully pray for everyone. His life and
ministry were not governed by results but by what he believed he was commanded
to do in the Bible.
John
may well have been the most overly analyzed and criticized man in America
during the 80’s and early 90’s. But he refused to retaliate in kind. He was
gentle, but strong, kind, yet forceful when needed, always humble and
self-effacing but not afraid to express his opinions or wield his authority
when he believed it important to do so.
When
John would come to Kansas City to speak at one of our conferences, the
highlight for me was after the sessions were over. John would sit down in our
hospitality room as we gathered around to ask questions and glean from his
wisdom. He was always available and never regarded himself as above other
Christians. He was there to serve, and we are the richer for it.
John
will be remembered for many things, one of which was his unrelenting commitment
to “doin’ the stuff,” as he often put it. As John told the story, he and Carol
visited a church early in his spiritual journey, immediately after he had spent
considerable time reading the gospel accounts of the life and ministry of
Jesus. Following the service, John approached the pastor and asked him:
“So,
when do we do the stuff?”
“The
‘stuff’,” said the pastor. “What’s the ‘stuff’?”
“You
know,” John replied, “the stuff in the Bible, like healing the sick and casting
out demons. The stuff!”
“Oh,”
replied the pastor. “We don’t do the stuff. We believe they did it back in
biblical days, but we don’t do it today.”
With
a rather confused look on his face, John could only say: “And I gave up drugs
for this?”
But
don’t be misled by John’s humor. One should never mistake his simplicity for
simple-mindedness. He often referred to himself as “just a fat man trying to
get to heaven,” but he was extremely well-read and theologically discerning. I
don’t know if I’ve ever met anyone as street wise as John or as perceptive of
the dynamics of human nature. He was a remarkably gifted leader and tens of
thousands (if not considerably more) will credit him with their awakening to a
more robust view of the ministry of the Spirit in today’s church.
I
was attending the annual meeting of the Evangelical Theological Society at the
time when John’s funeral was scheduled. Fortunately, ETS was being held in
California that year so I jumped on a plane and flew to Anaheim on November 21,
1997, to join with several thousand others in the auditorium of the Anaheim
Vineyard. I was stunned yet again by the extent of his influence and moved
deeply by the impact of his life and leadership on people of all denominations.
John’s
theology will continue to be analyzed and criticized, and depending on one’s
perspective, either adored or deplored (or perhaps a little of both). But I
thank God for him, for his reassuring smile, his encouraging words, his huge
heart for the kingdom of God, and his global impact on the body of Christ.
Thanks
John, for “doin’ the stuff.”
Sam
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