Doing Church: Childhood

May 10, 1964. Tom, Mom (Betty), Patti, Grandma (Grace Nash), Jan, Pam

One of my first memories of church was a cornmeal sandbox. As a four-year-old Sundayschooler at First United Presbyterian Church in Springfield, Oregon, I remember smelling the sweet, milled grain as it sifted through my fingers. I don't think I ate any of it. And yes, I'm certain we sang Jesus Loves Me, This I Know. It was then that I first heard the story of Jesus riding on a donkey into Jerusalem, while crowds of people tossed palm leaves on the ground. That image stuck. Sunday school was the fun part of church.

I dreaded those Sundays when Mom and Dad forced me to sit through the regular church service. As a four-year-old, I found the formal, written liturgy meaningless and boring, especially since I couldn't read it. Reverend Gardner would recite lines and prayers, and the congregation would respond in unison. We'd stand and sit, stand and sit. The hymns, accompanied by organ music and choir, piqued my curiosity, not over of the meaning of the lyrics, but for that drawn-out "amen" ending them all. What did that mean? It was the same word that came at the end of prayers. That much I knew.

Then came the sermon. I think Mom granted mercy by allowing me to scribble in a coloring book. She pacified my three older sisters by pushing back their cuticles. It was a productive thirty-minute distraction for the girls. Pam and Jan recently told me it was a good kind of pain.

My favorite hymn was the doxology, which I believe we sang a cappella:

July 1964. First United Presbyterian Church complex in Springfield

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow;

Praise him, all creatures here below;          

Praise Him above, ye heavenly host;          

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.           

Amen.            

(Words by Thomas Ken, 1674. Music attributed to Louis Bourgeois, 1551)

The singing of the doxology imparted within my heart the expectation of immanent release. But I had to endure the final, parting words from the pastor. Then, with a burst of organ music, it came -- the slow, orderly chaos of folks exiting the pews after nearly 1 1/2 hours of rigid formality.

I'd follow Mom out of the sanctuary to the church kitchen, located in another building. More curiosities awaited. The large coffee percolator fascinated me with the little glass ball on top full of bubbling brew. I loved the smell of fresh coffee, though it tasted yucky. Mom must have volunteered to prepare desserts and beverages for the post-service social time. She also served, I would learn, for a few years as the church secretary.

John Knox

For me, those childhood years at the Presbyterian church were all about sights, sounds, smells, and boredom. Though God was surely mentioned, I don't recall the spiritual or religious aspects of church. I couldn't have cared less about John Knox (1513-1572), the Scottish reformer and theologian who founded Presbyterianism. Nor did I know or care that Knox met and was greatly influenced by the protestant reformer John Calvin (which explains the Calvinistic roots of Presbyterianism).

Springfield's First United Presbyterian Church was demolished, I think in the late 1960's, probably due to the nearby construction of Interstate 105. The church was located where Mohawk Blvd. morphs into19th Street, very close to where the highway overpass and off ramp would be built. It survives in memory only. Funny thing, I can't visualize the people from that congregation. It's as if they are invisible ghosts. But they were there; I'm certain attendance was pretty high back then.

September 8, 1966. Day one of first grade with
 my best friend from childhood, Kelly Thomas

Faces and names began to stick in my memory after 1966, when the Nash family moved 20 miles east to the McKenzie Valley, in timber country. At that point, we typically attended the Walterville and Leaburg Presbyterian churches. I noticed people more when they hosted get-togethers at their homes. An autumn party comes to mind where homemade apple juice was offered and the host boasted about his stash of hard cider.

The larger Springfield congregation continued to meet at an Episcopalian church near Springfield Junior High School. They shared the sanctuary with the Episcopalians, who conducted their services at a different time on Sundays. After a few years, the Springfield congregation called it quits. The Walterville and Leaburg locations were all that remained. Of course, there were still a few Presbyterian churches in Eugene.

Mom and Dad made me go to church until I turned 13. As a teenager, I attended on rare occasions, only under intense pressure from Dad, who would say something like, "Your mother would really be happy if you went to church with us this Sunday. Okay?" I'd answer yes with a groan.

There's an irony about all this. Even if you've only skimmed through this blog post, you've probably deduced that I disliked church as a child. The formal and traditional aspects of the Presbyterian church bored me all the more. Back then, I may have perked up over a trendy, contemporary service. But the very things I disliked as a child, are what interest me now as a 57-year-old. I love old hymns from hymnals. I love ministers in robes and vestments who preach short sermons. I love reciting back-and-forth from a formal, written liturgy. I love pews and stained glass. Go figure.

July 16, 1964. Dad (Ray) and I in our backyard at Carter Lane in Springfield

The above-mentioned "traditional" qualities still exist in some mainline protestant denominations, but these churches are typically compromised on doctrine and don't adhere to Biblical inerrancy or even the less-rigid infallibility. I'd love to visit a traditional, reformation-style protestant church that is doctrinally orthodox and adheres to Biblical innerancy. Does such a church exist in Lane County? The closest I've found is the conservative Lutheran Church Missouri Synod, but they place too much emphasis on Communion, believing that the bread and wine become the true body and blood of Christ.
Occasionally, I enjoy visiting Grace Lutheran Church (Missouri Synod) in Eugene. They are a wonderful example of a Reformation style, traditional service. And the sermons are really short! God bless.