By Pam Hogeweide

Near the granite-cliffed splendor of Yosemite National Park lies an ordinary California town called Merced. My family recently drove through this ordinary town, it blurred by as we sped through, it’s taquerias not tempting enough to slow us down for a road break. I kept my eyes open, though, for a Starbucks, not for coffee, but with the ridiculous thought that maybe I would stumble into Pastor Bruce Logue (aka Mercedian) who uses Starbucks as his church-planting headquarters.

I would have loved to meet him. Me, the writer from Portland, writing about him, the pastor from Merced. And here I am speeding through the borders of his town.

I met Bruce on the blogs of Off The Map. He caught my attention when he posted about some of his experiences connecting with the locals in Merced. We exchanged a few emails that resulted in my request for an interview. Soon we were talking on the phone, his soft-spoken drawl revealing his southern-born heritage.

I found out that Bruce grew up in a Church of Christ household and decided to become a pastor within this conservative denomination. He’s been in ministry for over thirty years.

For a time, a very long time, everything in his life swirled around the Church of Christ universe, from his kids education to his social and vocational life. But somewhere along the way he ventured out beyond the perimeters of his denomination, attending conferences and reading books that broadened his horizon. “My world opened up,” he told me.

As the residue of insiderism, as Bruce calls it, began to break off his mind, he discovered the rich diversity within the body of Christ. “It was an evolution of thought, from my very conservative days, when I was enmeshed in the view that the Church of Christ were the only people I could associate with. I used to think we were the only ones who felt that way. But now I know that other groups feel that way, too,” explained Bruce.

A year ago Bruce set out to plant a church in Merced. Instead of the usual marketing blitz to get a church off the ground, he decided on a new strategy. Bruce has simply been connecting to people, one by one. “Going around town and getting to know people doesn’t seem like ministry, but it is. I have immersed myself into getting to know people,” he said.

For the last year, before having a single church service, Bruce has involved himself in becoming intimately acquainted with the town of Merced. He has volunteered in community groups and joined civic and business associations. One of the groups he is a part of weren’t sure how to receive him, a pastor, in their business meeting. Now they have gotten to know him, and this particular group is cheering for him to successfully plant a church in their community among their businesses.

Bruce recently was inducted onto the board of directors of the local Chamber of Commerce. This is how he is laying the foundation for the church he wants to plant in Merced, “Part of the DNA of our church (called Lifespring Church) will be community presence. I will be modeling that as a basic value of the church,” said Bruce, his voice edged with anticipation.

He envisions a church where people will be trusted and trained to do the things they feel passionate about. He doesn’t want to get caught in the familiar trap of micro-management (which seems to me to be an occupational hazard for pastors). “If I do that it will build weakness into it. I don’t want to be the engine, I want to be the rudder.” As the church launches it is Bruce’s intention to construct a church of teams. “I envision a church that is vibrant because of the things that the whole church brings to the mix – not a church that depends on its pastor to keep everything going,” stated Bruce.

Already Bruce has seen results in this new non-marketing way of starting a church. “What’s exciting to me is that there is a woman in one of my community groups and every week she hears me talk about Lifespring. She’s not a Christian but was interested in coming to our small home group. Now she comes, and she’s using ‘we language’. He loves how she is participating in the life of the church as she goes on her journey with God, not having made a commitment to follow Christ yet. “What she knows is that she is cared for,” he said.

This is what has intrigued me about Bruce, this 59-year old pastor, a veteran of church leadership who is quietly in the throes of a spiritual revolution. Recognizing how irrelevant his way of doing things had become, Bruce let that angst become a catalyst for change. He determined not to roll up the window to keep the winds of holy discontentment from blowing in his face. Instead, he let it guide him into uncharted territory.

A colleague tried to advise Bruce that sometimes you just have to accept things the way they are, but Bruce wouldn’t go for it. “I think, ‘No you don’t.’ You don’t have to keep doing what you’re doing. It might mean jeopardizing your job security as a professional clergy with a particular tradition….” The thought trailed off as Bruce echoed the fear that holds many church leaders back from going off the road of the tried and true. “Maybe it takes courage, or stupidity, to break free. You have to be willing to saw off the limb behind you,” Bruce concluded.

Bruce is somewhat of a pioneer. He is approaching the wild and wide open spaces that are beyond his training and knowledge with humility and a willingness to take risks. His steps will likely blaze a trail for others within and outside of the Church of Christ who are also detecting the winds of change blowing.

Not long ago some pastors that Bruce knows called together a meeting and gave him a few hours of their time. They just listened as he told them how he is breaking free from insiderism. Bruce wondered if some of his preaching friends are perhaps envious of him. “They don’t know how to get untangled from the tentacles of church tradition and opinion,” he told me.

With Merced in my rearview mirror, and the long highway ahead of me, I feel hope renewed as I think about Bruce Logue and his church plant. I know that I will meet him someday. Maybe not at a Merced Starbucks. More likely we will meet at some intersection of change, the blustery winds of revolution shredding the maps we hold in our hands.