Some pastors say Operation Rescue’s long-running protests have sparked revival in the city’s evangelical churches.
A sign greets travelers heading south through America’s heartland into Wichita, Kansas: “Visit Wichita, a beautiful surprise.” But when Operation Rescue (OR) accepted the city’s invitation this summer, its citizens and churches experienced a real shock. They may never be the same.
Wichita provided an ideal target for OR’S “Summer of Mercy” campaign, an effort to close down the city’s three abortion clinics, including one run by Dr. George Tiller. One of the largest providers of abortions in the country, Tiller advertises his clinic nationally, offering what many doctors refuse to perform: third-trimester abortions. During more than six weeks of protest, some 2,500 were arrested, as the campaign gained national media coverage.
But what started on July 14 as a campaign against abortion in the city has become much bigger than that, say local church leaders.
Signs Of Revival
“There is a sense of revival in this town like I have never seen before,” says Joe Wright, senior pastor of Central Christian Church, an evangelical congregation of about 1,600.
Wright chooses his words carefully. But he and others point to a crucial meeting as evidence of renewal among many of Wichita’s 500 churches: the gathering of more than 80 evangelical pastors—prompted in part by a sense of shame and repentance for not opposing abortion more actively prior to OR’S arrival—for two days and a night of prayer and fasting.
Many of the pastors had never before talked, much less prayed, together. In fact, the pastors say, Kansas is the only U.S. state never to host a Billy Graham crusade, mainly because of an inability to get churches to work together.
But the picture was different last month in the small convention room at the Wichita Plaza Hotel. There, pastors of churches with over 1,000 members knelt with leaders of country congregations from Wichita’s outskirts. Visitors sensed a solemnity in the room as many pastors wept together in prayer.
“There was repentance like I’ve never seen before, …” says Wright. “I think it will stick.”
Moreover, in a city of 300,000 long considered to be racially divided, four black pastors participated in the gathering, and members of the group confessed sins of racism to one another.
“We still have some moral problems in this city that need the total attention and leadership of the pastors,” says Gene Williams, senior pastor of First Church of the Nazarene. Following the prayer meeting, the pastors’ group published a written statement and promised regular gatherings and efforts to change Wichita.
Williams, like Wright, has reservations about some of OR’s methods. But he also sees revival in what is happening. “It is almost like an alarm went off,” he says. “They [OR] awakened a sleeping giant. For that, I am grateful.”
The change in Wichita’s spiritual climate came slowly over about a month. Just about two weeks after OR came to town, pastor Michael Leichner stood before some 300 worshipers gathered on Sunday at his Assemblies of God church in Maize, a small farm town several miles outside Wichita. “I’m against breaking the law!” he said, and the place erupted in “Amens!”
Leichner and his church were, like most of the evangelical churches in Wichita, being forced to face abortion in a new way. But they were undecided about civil disobedience.
Two Wednesdays later, after being with the pastors, Leichner returned to his pulpit on a Wednesday night with a new report. “God is using OR,” he said, again prompting a hearty “Amen!” Leichner and other pastors now say that even those pastors and laypeople who don’t agree with their tactics owe OR a debt of gratitude.
“When you can get the Baptists and the Presbyterians and the Nazarenes and the Pentecostals and Assemblies of God all together in the same room, something is going to happen,” Leichner told his congregation. “God is doing some miraculous things!”
Behind The Scenes
At press time, as the campaign was finishing its sixth week, both rescuers and court officials were stepping up their activities. Prolife demonstrators began forcing their way through gates to block clinic entrances. And organizers were planning what they hoped would be the largest prolife rally in the history of Kansas, featuring several prominent Christian musicians who had volunteered to perform.
At the same time, federal Judge Patrick Kelly ordered the arrest of OR leaders: Spokesman Pat Mahoney was arrested as he arrived in Wichita’s airport, and national president Keith Tucci was taken into custody as he finished an interview at a local Christian radio station.
Beyond the media spotlight, however, there were other surprising elements to the Wichita story.
• When Larry Weber, an evangelical Christian and manager of the Wichita Plaza Hotel, offered OR cut rates, the organization virtually turned the Plaza into its campaign headquarters. At one point, Weber said, Wichita’s city manager threatened him with arrest for “conspiracy to break the law” by renting rooms to OR. But he defended his actions by saying he had handled OR as he would any other convention.
Out-of-town rescuers occupied from 60 to 120 rooms a night. For more than 30 straight nights, 600 to 800 people gathered in one large convention room for worship, prayer, and pep talks.
• For the eight years Linda Hale has run the local Pregnancy Crisis Center, she has never been able to maintain more than eight to ten trained sidewalk counselors, who attempt to dissuade women from entering abortion clinics and to keep their babies. But a few weeks after OR’s arrival, OR leaders invited locals who wanted to learn to be sidewalk counselors to a church for an evening training session. Hale arrived a little late.
“Over my shoulder was the sanctuary, and I could hear praise and worship going on,” she recalls. Thinking the crowd inside was a church service, she asked a friend where the trainees were. The friend pointed to the sanctuary. “When I walked through those doors, I stood weeping and weeping,” Hale says. An estimated 250 had signed up for training.
• Caught in the center of the controversy is Reformation Lutheran Church (ELCA), which Dr. Tiller attends. His daughter was married there on August 10, during the height of the antiabortion protests. Among the 300 people present were plain-clothes police and security guards.
Joel Thomas Schmalz, one of two pastors at the church and a self-described “evangelical conservative” who is “prolife,” says Tiller does not seem to be “experiencing stress or strain” from the protest.
However, the issue has stirred the congregation. One Wednesday-night church meeting was disrupted by about 12 prolife demonstrators, who began preaching against abortion. In the long run, however, Schmalz says OR’s presence has gotten church members on both sides of the issue talking and could promote better understanding among members.
As for Tiller, says Schmalz, “There is no way that I could question the sincerity of Dr. Tiller’s Christian faith. He and his wife and children are active and well-informed theologically.”
Or Revitalized
The long-running protest in Wichita has effectively thrust Randall Terry and Operation Rescue back into the national debate on abortion. In early 1990, mired in debt after losing a court battle with the National Organization for Women, Terry shut down OR’s national office in Binghamton, New York. Some thought the group was out of business for good. (CT, Mar. 5, 1990, p. 32).
But OR reorganized, keeping a small national office and emphasizing local and state affiliates. They decided to try a new strategy, concentrating all their energies and numbers on stopping the abortion industry in one town. As ORsees it, it has been a staggering success.
Terry and other OR leaders have been thrust into the media spotlight, and they were heartened by an opinion from the U.S. attorney general’s office that questioned Judge Kelly’s handling of the Wichita case.
Nevertheless, OR has garnered critics in Wichita. A second group of about 23 local pastors, primarily from mainline churches, issued its own statement denouncing OR’s methods and saying OR’s opposition to abortion “does not define the Christian religion.”
A poll taken by the Wichita Eagle in August reported that 60 percent of respondents from 483 households “strongly disagree” with OR’s methods, compared to about 12 percent that “strongly support” them. The poll said 30 percent of Wichita residents believe abortion should be legal “under any circumstances,” and 57 percent support abortion “under certain circumstances.” Almost 62 percent said their opinion was strengthened in favor of “abortion rights” due to OR’s presence.
Terry and other OR leaders say that while changing people’s opinions about abortion is important, it has never been their primary goal. That goal, they say, is “saving preborn babies,” and they cite, as of August 12, 27 women who they say were persuaded to carry their pregnancies to full term.
Terry adds that as the abortion fight goes from the federal courts to the state level, OR plans to conduct more campaigns like the one in Wichita. As for revival in Wichita, Terry says, “It is too early to say what will happen.… This could be looked at as a major turning point in church history in America, or it could be just a blip on the screen. Part of that depends on us.”
By Joe Maxwell in Wichita, Kansas.
Mayor in the Middle
Few have felt the heat of Wichita’s summer like Mayor Robert Knight. A United Methodist evangelical who lists Billy Graham and Francis Schaeffer among his heroes, the 50-year-old official is in charge of the police force that has made more than 2,500 arrests. And in part, he is responsible for the two-day pastors’ prayer meeting spawned by the antiabortion protests that some say could be the beginning of revival in the city. Some of the pastors initially visited Knight, and he urged them to call other pastors together.
Others in Wichita, however, including the local newspaper, have criticized Knight as being unable to enforce law and order due to his personal views. Knight disagrees.
“I have sworn to God to uphold the laws of this land and nation,” he says. “It is my view that the laws have to be enforced in a civil way. I’ve gotten criticism for that.”
Instead of using several officers to haul individual “rescuers” off, in most cases Knight has allowed the rescuers to take “baby steps” to a police bus, during which police walk with those being arrested and process them. Knight says the procedure assures no officer or protester will be hurt.
The long-running abortion protest in his city is not the first moral battle Kansans have known, Knight says. The state helped stem the tide of slavery in the mid-1800s. Slavery proponents from Missouri faced off against New England abolitionists who migrated to Kansas in a precursor to the Civil War.
“There is a strong moral wind that blows through our state,” he says. “I believe that that is our strength.”
Like many others in the church community, Knight believes his city may be on the brink of revival. “If you were to have suggested to some of these pastors five weeks ago that they would be saying and participating in some of the things they are today, they would have said, ‘You are mad.’ ”
