A Trip Back in Time...
A few months ago, a friend asked me to drop her off at her church in Anderson.
Driving through the parking lot, I looked around at the people heading into the
building. Men were wearing suits and ties. Women were wearing dresses past the
knees and holding children's hands. I felt like I had stepped back in time!
Back in the 70s, my parents took us to church on Sundays and we wore
the same kinds of clothes these people had on! I remember my dad's church suit,
plaid polyester, and my own checkered dress, which went to my ankles, Holly
Hobbie style. Looking around the parking lot brought back a flood of memories.
It was surreal.
It made me think of when I was growing up and the time I discovered that I had a
special talent for impersonating people. The first time I tried my skill was after saying
the prayer for dinner one night. I don't know what possessed me...maybe I was
slightly bored, whatever...I finished my prayer in the pastor's voice.
"...Amen...(here, my voice lowered and I whispered, just as he always did)...amen."
My dad looked up in amazement. "Wow! That sounded just like the pastor!"
Ahh, my friends, my pastor voice was useful for all manner of ungodly amusement.
For my sister's enjoyment, I often used my pastor voice to pray that one church
member would not wear a plunging neckline on her dress, or other such nonsense.
Another memory I have is sitting in church with a hymnal and flipping through the
titles. When my sister and I were especially fidgety, we would read the titles and add
the phrase "under the bed" to the end of each.
We came up with some good ones:
"How Great Thou Art...under the bed"
"Oh Jesus I am Resting...under the bed"
"'Til We Meet Again...under the bed"
"What Child is This...under the bed"
"There is a Place of Quiet Rest...under the bed"
"I'll Fly Away...under the bed"
For some reason, everything is funnier when you're supposed to be quiet.
I will never forget the time that my great aunt brought our very old uncle Todd to
church. It was time to have communion. The little cups of grape juice were passed
out and prayed over. The pastor said solemnly, "Drink the cup at this time."
Uncle Todd looked down at his little cup and shrugged his shoulders before saying
in a slightly too-loud voice, "Well...here's how we lost the farm!"
I would have loved for Uncle Todd to create some excitement every week.
When you grow up in church, though, those kinds of moments are few and far
between. For me, there was a lot of wondering how long the service would last.
My sister and I made faces at each other and tried to climb under the pew when my
mother wasn't looking. If we were lucky, we would meet up on the floor with another
kid who had the same idea. Not worth it, though, if our dad saw us.
My parents took us to Sunday school, we stayed for the church service, then for
coffee afterward, then brought some friends home for lunch, then went back to
church so my mom could go to choir practice, and then we stayed for the evening
service. Afterward, everyone would go to Burger King to visit some more. Don't
even get me started on all the Bible studies and prayer meetings during the week.
My sister and I never complained, I mean, what else was there to do?
My mom and dad had time for their kids and for all of their friends.
They had a pastor who taught them that Sunday was a day for rest.
Life isn't like that anymore. I don't think that there are any more churches where
people stick around to leisurely drink coffee after the service. People are in a hurry.
There are email accounts to be checked; there are televisions with dozens of
channels. Do churches even have choirs any more?
There were many church people that I took for granted.
There was Mrs. Amos who had us over to her home and gave us cookies
with milk that was so cold it made your teeth hurt.
There was Mrs. Gardiner who had a kids' night called "The Eager Beavers."
Some guy named "Guy" had a banjo and used to sing before the service.
Odd how these random memories have stayed with me.
Such a church worked then, but it wouldn't work now.
I feel a little sentimental thinking about the good friends we had.
This was back in the 70s and I don't know if such
churches and pastors are around anymore.
They may have all gone the way of plaid polyester suits.
Have a nice week...visit with your friends!
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