Thriving Church in Mormon Country Emphasizes Community
by Mark Ellis
April 19, 2007
OREM, UTAH (ANS) -- In a valley considered the spiritual heart of LDS culture, a 600-member evangelical church is remarkably healthy, with at least half the seats filled with ex-Mormons. All this has come without Mormon-bashing, or any special training or messages to Mormons at their worship services."When you come to church on Sunday morning, you're not going to hear about Mormonism," says Scott McKinney, pastor of Christ Evangelical Church. The core message and philosophy of Christ Evangelical isn't about winning arguments with Mormons. "If a Mormon comes to our church and hears a negative message about Mormonism they will get up and walk out," he says.
First settled by Mormon missionaries in 1847, the Utah Valley is home to 450,000 living primarily in Orem and Provo. The valley is also home to thousands of mission-minded students at BYU, Utah Valley State College, and the church's Missionary Training Center, which trains and sends out 53,000 missionaries to various parts of the world each year.
McKinney knows the mindset of the LDS hierarchy from experience. "The LDS Church wants to put you into one of two categories," he emphasizes. "You either feed their PR machine or you feed their persecution complex."
"They have a very strong identity as a persecuted people," he says. "If we hammer people over the head for what they believe they resist. In a weird way, that strengthens the LDS Church."
Instead, McKinney emphasizes preaching the gospel and developing a loving community. "We're here to communicate the Good News and see people come to Christ," he says. "We want to provide a loving community, communicate the truth in love, and be a home for people who leave Mormon culture."
McKinney developed an interest in Mormon history while a student at Talbot Seminary in Southern California. One of his professors, Wally Norling, asked McKinney what he might do after he graduated. "I want to plant a church in Utah," he replied. The response surprised McKinney himself.
After graduation, McKinney served as an associate pastor in Cypress, California. He quickly developed some observations about the churches that surrounded him. "It seemed like everybody was trying to do church a little better than the guy down the street," he thought. "I felt like if our church ceased to exist it wouldn't really make an impact on the community. I wanted to be in a place where our existence would mean something."
In Cypress, he met a man at church with two sisters in Utah married to the same man. "It was all the things you think about Utah before you go there," he recalls. One of the sisters developed cancer, and McKinney's friend traveled to visit her and led her to Christ during his trip. After her conversion, she started to attend a small evangelical church in Orem.
Over the years, this church had dwindled to about 25 people, mostly in their 70s. In 1988, the pastor resigned in discouragement. "The church was in the emergency room," McKinney says. "There was thought of shutting it down and selling the building."
But McKinney's friend happened to be there after the pastor resigned, and confidently told the chairman of their board, "Don't worry, I know who your next pastor will be."
"He called me up and said, 'You're going to Utah.'"
"I have a wife and four children," McKinney replied. "I probably ought to run this by them."
On McKinney's first visit, he was startled by what he observed. "I drove around the Utah Valley and felt a sense of oppression," he recalls. "It was amazing to have one religion so dominant in one area."
As he drove around the BYU campus, reality started to set in. "The idea of planting a church in Utah sounded good from afar, but what was I thinking?"
On his first visit to the church in Orem he found a worn-out, defeated group. "They were faithful people. They built a building and sacrificed, but they were done."
He called his wife, Sarah, on the phone. "Do you see any potential there?" she asked.
"Absolutely none," he said. "This is the most negative thing I've been around in my life."
But slowly, God began to change McKinney's heart. "The people were like sheep without a shepherd," he thought. "God loves to work in this kind of situation - where people say it can't be done."
Then he saw another positive. "This is a church plant that already has a building," he realized. God restored McKinney's passion for Utah, but his wife was slower to respond.
At first, Sarah thought he was "nuts" to think about uprooting their four children. After arguing the merits initially, McKinney decided he needed to quiet down and wait on God to soften her heart.
"One day we were walking and she grabbed my arm and said, 'Let's go!'"
People warned them the move would be hard on their children. "But I said it would be worse to have a mother and father afraid to live by faith."
After their arrival, he saw the unusual potential of the mission field. "Less than one-half of one percent of the people who live in Utah Valley are evangelical Christians," he noted. "Those percentages are more like some Muslim countries." He is quick to point out that Salt Lake Valley is somewhat different, with 3-4 percent evangelicals.
"I started asking what Jesus would do if he came to Utah," McKinney says. He found an analogy in Jesus' treatment of the Samaritans. "In Luke 9 the disciples wanted to rain down fire from heaven and destroy a Samaritan city," he notes. "Jesus rebuked them for their attitude and I believe he would rebuke anti-Mormonism today."
While McKinney thinks apologetics has an important role to play, he sees its limits. "Mormons aren't going anywhere if there isn't a healthy church there to provide a family," he notes. "I've concentrated on creating a healthy local church."
"In California people want choices," he adds. "In Utah people want community."
McKinney's goal is to plant three more churches in Utah Valley by 2012. His church recently purchased a sizeable parcel with freeway visibility for a future location. The location is strategic, with 800 feet of freeway frontage near the busiest off ramp on Highway 15.
So far, he's raised $600,000 for the new building, but still needs to raise an additional $1.2 million.
"I feel overwhelmed at time by the impossibility of the task," he says, while at the same time he notes God's faithfulness to them in the past. "At times I feel like this is home, but other times I feel like I'm living in someone else's Zion."
© 2007 ASSIST News Service, used with permission.
