The Truth About John Wimber
A Treasure in a Jelly-Jar.

by Jon Panner

A president of an evangelical seminary once introduced John Wimber with these words: "John Wimber is the greatest theologian of the 20th century." I nearly burst with laughter. John looked at me, winked, stood up, shuffled slowly to the microphone and opened with, "Really, I’m just a fat saxophone player trying to get to heaven."

As always, we loved that line — no matter how many times we heard it. The word police didn’t, however, and accused him of failing to understand true Reformation doctrine: grace alone, faith alone, Christ alone. Pharisees never could take a joke. But the crowd knew: John Wimber was one of us, a sinner saved by grace, determined to give a good report to the Teacher, trusting he would grade on the curve.

At moments like these, he seemed like our collective grampa. His Santa Claus demeanor reassured us, "Kids, I've read the end of the book. Guess what? We win!"

"Where, O death is your victory? Where, O death is your sting?" (1 Corinthians 15:55).

Was John Wimber a great theologian? No. As jazz is to music, so was John to theology. He was no Bach — but he had great rhythm and an ear for the harmonies of both Word and Spirit. Few leaders will surpass his instincts there.

John’s public persona was winsome, comforting, like a teddy bear. Born with a microphone in his hand, he was more adept communicating from a stage than in person. Privately, he could sometimes be gruff. Once I tried to give him advice, "John, why don't you take a vacation, rest, play a little golf?" Teddy turned grizzly. "Before you can give me advice young man you’ll need a little more gray in you beard." Then he ambled off, foraging for more work.

What was John Wimber’s ultimate contribution? It’s too early to tell, but he left us a renewed hymnody, 700 new churches to care for, a growing recovery of the New Testament narratives for life and ministry, thousands saved and healed.

How did he do it? Converted out of a successful music career at 29 and dead at 63, John Wimber was in a hurry to make a path for Christ’s Kingdom into contemporary Baby Boomer culture. George Eldon Ladd forged the stainless steel theological axe. John Wimber picked it up and took a whack at the root of the anti-supernatural deism that encrusted much of the church. It is now no longer enough to sing about God or Xerox orthodox propositions. The evangelical church is singing to Him. And He is singing back.

John’s life was an exposition of the "already and not yet of the Kingdom". Through him, God healed others, yet John suffered heart disease, cancer, stroke. Revered by many, rebuked by a few, John seemed to get himself stuck on occasion (like Pooh in Rabbit’s door) halfway between wild woods and comforting tradition. He was capable of great faith that might stray into presumption and yet was known for his quick repentance. Several times I saw John Wimber burst into tears when he saw his sin.

This "tension of the time between the times" marked his vision of the Christian life. When admirers told him he was an apostle, John disarmed their pride-laden poison: "Apostle? I’m not an apostle. I’m trying to be an epistle — a small ‘e’ epistle at that. Maybe someone can read me and learn a little about Jesus. I’m just a coin in the Master’s pocket. He can spend me any way He wants." When asked if he had a master plan to "take the continent for Christ" John replied, "Take the continent? I’m still trying to take me!"

In John’s lifetime, tidal waves of global proportion swept the church. In thirty years, the center of Christianity shifted from 70% of the world’s Christians residing in the West to 70% residing in the non-West. Soon there will be half a billion Pentecostals, Charismatics and Third Wave evangelicals. John Wimber rode this God-sent wave with reckless skill. And he taught tens of thousands to do so as well. He loved the whole church and never slandered her — despite her flaws — believing that, "Jesus is coming back for a big Bride, not some scrawny fashion model." This hope propelled him around the globe as he tried to awaken the big, sleepy Bride to her King’s coming.

John’s goal was to let God have His way with the church and for the church to "only do what the Father is doing" (John 5:19). Unlike some visionary leaders, John never relied on hype to temporarily pump the troops. Instead, he modeled a gift-based ministry for the whole church: "Everybody gets to play; so play nice and share your toys." He focused on equipping everyday saints to ‘do the stuff’ and continue the Kingdom ministry of Jesus. His aim was a church that knew experientially how to worship in Spirit and Truth, preach the gospel, teach the whole counsel of God (not just the safe parts), heal the sick, cast out unclean spirits, care for the poor, train leaders, and plant churches that would do the same.

Not content with fishing, John was into catching. He led many hundreds to Christ one-on-one in Orange County, California. At its peak 50-60 tons of food flowed monthly out of the church he pastored there. Thousands trapped in sin were set free. To achieve this he attempted to use Pentecostal power to hit the evangelical target of making and nurturing followers of Jesus. How consistently he hit the target is for future historians to determine.

Ultimately, the measure of a man is not the treasure or legacy he creates but the treasure he carries in his soul. John Wimber was a jar of clay, a vessel chipped, cracked, yet inside was great treasure.

"We have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us" (2 Corinthians 4:7).

Those of us of a younger generation remember John Richard Wimber. We've considered his life’s outcome. And we will imitate — however poorly — those aspects of his faith where the Treasure shone brightly.

This article first appeared in "Worship Update" a publication of Vineyard Music Group.