Remembering Pastor Chuck Smith
For though you have countless guides in Christ, you do not have many fathers. For I became your father in Christ Jesus through the gospel. — First Corinthians 4:15
Last week, Pastor Chuck Smith of Calvary Chapel Costa Mesa, California, passed away. The Stage IV cancer he had overcame him Thursday morning, but not before he had preached three times that Sunday and did a radio broadcast a day or so later. He was an amazing man whose life and ministry made a huge impression on me. Even though I hadn’t personally seen him for years, the news of his death left me with a sense of sorrow and great loss beyond what I expected. I think I’m beginning to understand why. Since moving from California, my relationships with church leaders have been exclusively collegial. But with Chuck, it was different. He was my first pastor and literally my “father in Christ Jesus through the gospel.”
Growing up in Southern California, I was introduced to him at the tail end of the Jesus movement. What drew me and many of my friends to his church was the genuine welcome he extended to us in spite of our messy life styles that dogged us even after coming to Christ. Repentance, the forgiveness of sins, and God’s inexhaustible grace was the message he preached from his pulpit Sunday after Sunday. The cross was the center piece of Chuck’s ministry.
I had been a Christian just four years when he hired me to become part of the teaching staff. Six months later Jenny and I were married by him. I was on staff for three years before moving to Oregon. Here are a few things I remember about him.
He was one of the hardest working people I ever knew. He came from very modest beginnings. His home was not far from our apartment. When the Calvary Chapel movement took off in those early years, it didn’t really seem to affect him. Contrary to many of the emerging mega-church leaders who loved being in the spotlight, he chose to live simply. He continued driving the same car and living in the same house, year after year.
His heart’s desire was simply to pastor the people God gave him. He was busy “equipping the saints” each week through teaching God’s Word faithfully. From looking at his website last week, I saw that the routine was the same as it was over 30 years ago. He’d preach a topical sermon repeating it three times on Sunday mornings, teach a survey study of the Bible on Sunday nights covering three to five chapters, and present an in-depth study of a chosen book on Thursday nights. This “liturgy of the Word” was repeated year after year, decade after decade. He was faithful to the call of God on his life.
He was, of course, human. His detractors will eagerly point out his flaws. I can say that he worked tirelessly and endlessly, probably too much — likely a characteristic of his generation. He was strong-willed. When Chuck wanted something done a certain way, that’s the way it went down. When the Calvary Chapels grew so quickly, the oversight was sketchy. It seemed that the controls that should have been in place weren’t. It was a problem. But when you look at church history, these issues were not different from any other period of renewal and reformation.
Without Chuck hiring me to teach, I’m not sure I would have entered the teaching profession. Had I not three years later decided to move to Oregon to teach and start a home school program, you wouldn’t be reading this. Basic Skills wouldn’t have happened. Looking back, the connections are clear.
Another connection is very personal to me. Indirectly, Chuck played a role in my father’s conversion. A year ago last summer I went to California to see my dad. It would be the last time we would be together. As we ate at his favorite restaurant, he began to tear up and break down as he confessed his faith in Christ to me. Broken and aging, he had come to realize his need for forgiveness. A leader at a Calvary Chapel just a few miles from his home was instrumental in his movement toward God. Four months later my father was killed in a car accident.
Just days before Chuck passed away, he told one of his closest staff members, “If someone reads about my death in the obituaries, tell him I didn’t die. I’ve simply moved.” When I heard about this, I had to laugh. So true. He always saw things from an eternal perspective.
Welcome to your new home, Pastor Chuck. I’ll see you again someday.
Curt
