Parker T. Williamson
editor-in-chief
Hollywood. The very name suggests a fanciful world where images
loom larger than life. Here, stars make their mark, not only on city
sidewalks, but on an impressionable American culture. This is a place of
make believe. Here, things that are not, often appear to be true.
For more than 100 years, First Presbyterian Church has lifted a cross
over this land of illusion. From its center-stage location near
Hollywood and Vine, this congregation has heralded the gospel,
showcasing Scripture, declaring the rock-solid Word of God. From this
congregation missionaries have been dispatched throughout the world;
ministers have been catapulted into national pulpits, educators
published curricula for millions of growing Christians. This is the
church of Henrietta Mears, Louis Evans, Lloyd Ogilvie and other
Presbyterian luminaries whose ministries have touched countless lives.
But this church has more than a past. After years of membership
declines, innovative leaders are planting seeds for a future generation.
While traditionalists enjoy a glorious worship experience, complete with
robed ministers and a 100-voice choir, a new breed of seekers, some 400
strong, gathers for “CUE worship” in “the warehouse.”
Unfamiliar with the creeds of Christian culture, they are invited to
explore the faith in the non-traditional language of their world. Here,
a contemporary cohort meets the ageless claims of Jesus Christ.
No reasonable person would expect that a 2,700-member, culture-crossing
congregation like this would not have problems. The context in which
this church has chosen to bear its witness is rife with relational,
logistical, administrative and financial challenges.
But when fewer than five percent of Hollywood’s members found the
work of their leaders objectionable, the place for them to take their
concerns was to the session, the elected governing body of their church.
Instead, they went clandestinely to the presbytery’s Committee on
Ministry. Had that committee honored its constitutional mandate, it
would have required the dissenters to take their complaints first to the
session. But the Committee on Ministry did not do that. (Incredibly,
committee members say they were advised by the Office of the General
Assembly not even to talk to the session!)
In violation of the constitution, the Committee on Ministry secretly met
with the dissenters and heard their complaints without benefit of the
knowledge they would have gained had the Committee on Ministry first met
openly with the session and other church members, or allowed the accused
to face their accusers. Then the committee met privately with Hollywood’s
ministers and, again in violation of the Constitution, told them to
leave. Nothing in the
Book of Order gives a Committee of
Ministry such powers.
When the committee’s unconstitutional behavior was challenged by
the session, the COM announced its call for a special meeting of the
presbytery, asking this body to remove the ministers and take over the
church. The Presbytery of the Pacific did create an administrative
commission, but for the purpose of bringing about reconciliation in the
Hollywood church. Thus it voted down the request to remove the
ministers, knowing that the desired reconciliation could only occur if
the ministers were parties to it.
But at 12:30 a.m., only minutes after the presbytery meeting that
created the commission was adjourned, an attorney purportedly
representing the commission ordered the ministers to vacate the church
property in less than 12 hours.
The administrative commission’s attorney is none other than Antonio
de la Rosa. Those who follow denominational affairs know him well. When
the Albuquerque General Assembly voted to deny ordination to persons who
engage in sexual relations outside of marriage, de la Rosa led a
demonstration, including homosexual activists and General Assembly staff
members, to plant a six-foot cross in front of the assembly and hammer
nails into it.
This Los Angeles attorney has enjoyed other Louisville connections. He
chaired the General Assembly Advisory Committee on Litigation. The
committee that he chaired helps Stated Clerk Clifton Kirkpatrick file
amicus briefs in civil courts, like a recent brief supporting “covenantal
unions” for same-sex partnerships.
Why are presbytery leaders going after this church? Is it theology or
something more? The Hollywood church’s property is a developer’s
dream. Its parking lot alone is worth millions. Could the denomination’s
assaults on this church have anything to do with real estate?
That’s a question worth asking Antonio de la Rosa, attorney for the
commission that has now seized control of the church. It’s also
worth asking staff members of the denomination’s Department of
Constitutional Services, which reportedly advised the Committee on
Ministry not to discuss Hollywood’s problems with its session. And
it is worth asking Clifton Kirkpatrick himself.
If ever there were a case of a presbytery killing a vibrant evangelical
church, this is it. Why these harsh tactics against a faithful, growing
congregation? Why not allow this church’s duly elected session to
deal with its own problems? The corporate world has a term for it. It is
called “hostile takeover.”
A column by Parker T. Williamson, chief executive officer of the
Presbyterian Lay Committee and editor in chief of its publications.