1874–1961

Introduction

Born: Feb­ru­ary 16, 1874, El­gin, Il­li­nois.

Died: Sep­tem­ber 28, 1961, Oak­land, Ca­li­for­nia.

Buried: Sun­set View Ce­me­te­ry, El Cer­ri­to, Ca­li­for­nia.

portrait

Biography

Narver was the son of Jo­seph Ross Gort­ner and Lou­is­a Eli­za­beth Wa­ters, hus­band of Del­la Hay­den (mar­ried 1896), and grand­fa­ther of child ev­an­gel­ist and ac­tor Mar­joe Gort­ner.

In 1887, the fa­mi­ly moved to Af­ri­ca in 1887, and his fa­ther was pre­sid­ing el­der of the Li­ber­ia Dis­trict of the Me­tho­dist Church. However, Jo­seph caught black­wa­ter fe­ver, and the fa­mi­ly had to re­turn to Ne­bras­ka.

Narver preached his first ser­mon at age 16 and re­ceived a preach­ing li­cense. Around 1892, he be­gan stu­dies at the Gar­rett Bib­li­cal In­sti­tute in Ev­an­ston, Il­li­nois.

In 1910, the Me­tho­dist Church trans­ferred Gort­ner from the North Ne­bras­ka Con­fer­ence to the Sou­thern Ca­li­for­nia Con­fer­ence. In 1920, he joined the As­sem­blies of God (AOG) and b­ecame pas­tor of the Pen­te­cost­al Church (which lat­er be­came the First As­sem­bly of God) in Cleve­land, Ohio.

He was elect­ed Dis­trict Su­per­in­tend­ent of the Cen­tral Dis­trict of the AOG, 1922–24. In 1924 he re­signed his Cleve­land pas­tor­ate and re­turned to Ca­li­for­nia.

He preached for a year at Beth­el Tem­ple in Los An­ge­les, then be­came pas­tor of the new­ly formed First Pen­te­cost­al Church of Oak­land in 1927. He served there for a de­cade, then joined the teach­ing staff of the Glad Tid­ings Bi­ble In­sti­tute in San Fran­cis­co (which lat­er be­came the Be­tha­ny Bi­ble Col­lege in San­ta Cruz). He was at the col­lege for 10 years, three of them as its pre­si­dent.

For ma­ny years Gort­ner was an ex­ec­u­tive pres­by­ter of the AOG Ge­ne­ral Coun­cil. He fre­quent­ly con­trib­ute­d to The Pen­te­cost­al Ev­an­gel.

Works

Poem

On the Brink of a River

I stood on the brink of a river;
’Twas deep and ’twas dark and ’twas wide;
And I said, as I looked at the current,
Tell me how I can reach the far side.
As I looked I could see in the distance
A city that shone like pure gold;
’Twas surrounded by walls that for beauty
Were a marvel indeed to behold.

The spires of that beautiful city
Were glowing with marvelous light,
And the walls were composed of pure jasper,
And the gates were of pearl—what a sight!
And the city stood high on the mountain,
Where the air was most healthful and pure,
And the Lord who had builded that city
Had made its foundations secure.

So I longed for some means to pass over,
But none I could think of was nigh;
In that city saints live on forever,
But here they both sicken and die.
As I longingly looked, a gate opened
And out came a Being I knew;
His face was aglow with the glory:
’Twas Jesus, the Faithful and True.

Down He came to the edge of the river,
Where a boat at the brink had been moored;
It was there to be launched by the Master,
And for Him it had there been secured.
I watched and I saw Him untie it—
What a beautiful vision to see!
And in it He climbed, and He started
To cross o’er the river for me.

I looked and I saw He was coming,
And nearer and nearer He came;
Then suddenly Satan stood by me;
(Rebuke him, O Lord, in Thy name!)
He was dressed in the latest of fashion,
But at once I was sure it was he,
And to Satan I said, He is coming,
My Savior is coming for me.

And Satan looked at me and twisted
His lips as he answered with scorn,
That isn’t your Saviour, your Jesus!
He’ll never come for you, I warn.

I know Him, I said, get behind me
Your presence is not be feared;
He is coming to take me to Hea­ven,

And Satan at once disappeared.

My Saviour came on o’er the river,
And the little boat soon reached the strand,
I walked to the edge of the water,
And He reached out and gave me His hand;
I climbed in the boat and was sitting
My hea­ven­ly Pi­lot be­side,
And down in my heart I was thanking
My Lord I was one of the Bride.

We started to cross o’er the river;
Not a word did my Lover Lord say,
And nearer we came to the city
That had seemed once to be far away;
We gently moved onward together,
And soon we were out in midstream—
And then I awoke from my sumber
And, behold, it was only a dream.

But some day I’ll stand by that river,
And some day mine eyes shall behold,
Beyond the dark waters that city,
With its streets that are paved with pure gold;
And I’m sure that the Lord of redemption,
Who died my poor soul to redeem,
Will see that I safely get over,
And then it will not be a dream!

J. Narver Gortner (1874–1961)

Sources

Lyrics