Above: Going to Church, 1960 (I’m the one wearing the black hat)
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Clayton was a teenager in my congregation several years ago. He was a good boy and always did what his parents told him to do. His parents told him to go along to church with them every Sunday morning, and so Clayton did. He was there each week with his father and mother, big brother, and two little sisters. After graduation, Clayton enlisted in the army. Before leaving, he stopped at my office to say good-bye. I encouraged him to continue in his faith and suggested going to chapel services each week at basic training. Clayton always spoke his mind, so he replied politely, “No pastor, I don’t think I will be doing that. I always went to church because my parents told me to, and I respected them enough to obey them. But now I will be on my own, and I will make my own decisions.” “Okay, Clayton,” I said, “but it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try.” Several weeks later, I received a letter from Clayton. It wasn’t a long letter; “How are you? I am fine,” was the gist of it. But then he added, “I am going to chapel every week, and it feels good to be there. My whole life has changed so fast and in so many ways,” he wrote. “Everything is different here, but the chapel service is just like church at home. I like that one thing is the same and is familiar.” Memories of being in church was keeping Clayton close to Jesus.
Katie’s family was hardly ever in church when she was growing up, but they were there every Christmas Eve for the candlelight service. Katie always loved that service, especially when the whole church was dark, except for the candles, and everyone was singing “Silent Night.” But that was just a Christmas tradition for Katie, and nothing more. It certainly did not mean she needed church for anything else. Many years later, for the first time in her life, Katie was all alone on Christmas Eve. Her parents were dead, her siblings were living all over the country, she had no children, and she was recently divorced. She remembered those long ago Christmas Eve Candlelight services. Over the years, Katie had ended even that minimal contact with the church. But now, she wanted that experience again. She looked on-line, found a candlelight service, and was there in 20 minutes. There, she was no longer alone, but was celebrating Christmas with hundreds of others. When her candle was lit and the lights went out and “Silent Night” began, Katie’s eyes were filled with tears. Her emotion was part nostalgia, part loneliness, and a part of her that was touched by something the pastor said about “Emmanuel” meaning God, in the baby Jesus, is ‘with us’ at Christmas. She wasn’t sure what that was all about, but she did want to hear more. She needed Someone with her. She would come back to that church, and it would be before next Christmas. Memories of Christmas Eve brought Katie back.
Nicole did not have a happy home life. Her mother had some mental health issues and was always angry, constantly yelling at someone, and never happy about anything. Her father was hardly ever home. She wasn’t sure if he was that busy with work, as he always explained, or, if he just chose to be that busy so he did not have to be home with such a difficult wife. But every Sunday, the whole family was always in church. Unlike many of her friends’ fathers, Nicole’s dad was always there, and even taught Sunday School. Nicole’s mother was always on her best behavior at church—friendly, charming, and always smiling. Church for Nicole was therefore a weekly refuge from a chaotic home life. She did love her mother and father, and Sunday morning was two or three hours of ‘normal’ for her that she always treasured. She loved Sunday School, all her best friends were there, and when she got older, she helped out all she could with the younger children. No one had to tell Nicole to keep active in the church after high school. Jesus was her best friend, church was her ‘happy place,’ and the congregation was her family. It was where Nicole met her husband, and church was then always a part of their family. Memories of church as her childhood refuge led to a lifelong commitment to that fellowship.
Mike said, “I never went to church as a kid because my parents never went. As an adult, it never occurred to me to waste my Sunday morning in church. But I recently became a grandfather for the first time, and I have been thinking about my grandparents. They were the best people I ever knew. They always went to church, and I have been wondering if that had something to do with the sort of people they were. When I would stay with them, they would take me along to their little country church. It was boring, but I didn’t mind. The people there were good, kind, common, and down-to-earth; not like the greedy, whining, desperate people I work with (and I’m no different). I think I am missing something they had.” Memories of church made Mike want to be a better person.
Every September, in every one of my congregations, a new group of young parents would come back after years of absence. What would bring them back? Their first-born child would be old enough to begin Sunday School. They would always say the same thing: “Our parents always brought us to Sunday School, and now we want to bring our children.” I would reply, “If you want the best for them, you will not just drop them off, but you will stay and worship with them.” And sometimes they would and sometimes they would not. But either way, it was the memories of Sunday School that got them back in the door, and new memories were being made for the next generation.
Every Sunday morning in church, we are making memories. For some people, sometime in their future, that might be all they have to go on.
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Hebrews 10:24-25a — Let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another.
Philippians 1:3 — I thank my God upon every remembrance of you.
Galatians 6:2 — Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.
Romans 12:10 — Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves.
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PRAYER ON A CHURCH DOOR:
O God, make the door of this house wide enough to receive all who need human love and fellowship, and a heavenly Father’s care; and narrow enough to shut out all envy, pride, and hate.
Make its threshold smooth enough to be no stumbling-block to children, nor to straying feet, but rugged enough to turn back the tempter’s power.
Make it a gateway to your eternal kingdom. Amen.
–Thomas Ken (1637-1711)
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