Sunday morning being the Lord’s Day, where else would you find Cedric and Guinevere but worshiping the Lord. We stopped at the Eastside Church of Christ in Corsicana, Texas. It was nothing like the Plano mega-churches; it was that A-frame church building of the 1950’s. With Songs of Praise and King James Version Bibles in the pews and the attendance count on the board at the front of the building.
.
It very easily could have been the congregation in Baltimore, MD that my mom grew up in or the church in Clarksville, Arkansas that my dad grew up in, or the original auditorium at Owasso where Jon was raised and we were married.
The congregation still does those things that the churches of Christ did well. There is a bus ministry that picks up the children, the single mom’s and the elderly that otherwise wouldn’t have a way to know the Lord. I guess I should mention that this was an all Negro congregation and we stuck out like. . . well, . . . visitors!
It was a wonderful experience. There was no denying that we were visiting and we were greeted by all 60 people in the congregation. Upon entering the auditorium we couldn’t help but notice the ladies in their very fancy Sunday dress and matching hats. There was no casual wear to be seen. They had come to worship the Lord and they dressed like it.
The other thing we noticed was there were no men in the auditorium, which seemed quite strange. Then the door to the left of the auditorium opened, all the ladies stood and began singing as all of the men entered the auditorium. Every man was in a suit and tie, it may have been the same suit and tie he had worn every Sunday for the last 20 years, but he too was dressed to worship the Lord.
The singing was of course Acapella, and if you have ever been in spirit filled Negro congregation, instrumental music would have only acted to take away from the experience. The entire congregation stood every time the Lord’s Bible was read, the men prayed before the Lord’s Supper and prayed for blessings over the offering after it was collected.
The sermon was hell, fire and brimstone. It covered boys pulling the backs of their pants up: ladies pulling their skirt lines down, not forsaking the assembly: God hates divorce; staying away from the new XXX store one town over; the evils of dancing; turning away from man-made churches; and I’m sure I’m forgetting a few of the other bullet points.
It was such a thrown back to my growing up days with such a love and sincerity for seeking God’s truth. There was more scripture quoted in that one sermon than in a year’s worth of the typical ‘feel good, politically correct’ sermons offered today.
I love our congregation in Plano, and don’t want to leave the wrong impression. But if you grew up in the churches of Christ, you would understand what a wonderful homage this was to the small town congregations across the U.S.
.
It very easily could have been the congregation in Baltimore, MD that my mom grew up in or the church in Clarksville, Arkansas that my dad grew up in, or the original auditorium at Owasso where Jon was raised and we were married.
The congregation still does those things that the churches of Christ did well. There is a bus ministry that picks up the children, the single mom’s and the elderly that otherwise wouldn’t have a way to know the Lord. I guess I should mention that this was an all Negro congregation and we stuck out like. . . well, . . . visitors!
It was a wonderful experience. There was no denying that we were visiting and we were greeted by all 60 people in the congregation. Upon entering the auditorium we couldn’t help but notice the ladies in their very fancy Sunday dress and matching hats. There was no casual wear to be seen. They had come to worship the Lord and they dressed like it.
The other thing we noticed was there were no men in the auditorium, which seemed quite strange. Then the door to the left of the auditorium opened, all the ladies stood and began singing as all of the men entered the auditorium. Every man was in a suit and tie, it may have been the same suit and tie he had worn every Sunday for the last 20 years, but he too was dressed to worship the Lord.
The singing was of course Acapella, and if you have ever been in spirit filled Negro congregation, instrumental music would have only acted to take away from the experience. The entire congregation stood every time the Lord’s Bible was read, the men prayed before the Lord’s Supper and prayed for blessings over the offering after it was collected.
The sermon was hell, fire and brimstone. It covered boys pulling the backs of their pants up: ladies pulling their skirt lines down, not forsaking the assembly: God hates divorce; staying away from the new XXX store one town over; the evils of dancing; turning away from man-made churches; and I’m sure I’m forgetting a few of the other bullet points.
It was such a thrown back to my growing up days with such a love and sincerity for seeking God’s truth. There was more scripture quoted in that one sermon than in a year’s worth of the typical ‘feel good, politically correct’ sermons offered today.
I love our congregation in Plano, and don’t want to leave the wrong impression. But if you grew up in the churches of Christ, you would understand what a wonderful homage this was to the small town congregations across the U.S.
1 comment:
I know EXACTLY what you're talking about. Our congregation here is about 600. When they don't project the songs on the screen, we use a songbook that is older than that all-too-familiar gold one (brings back memories!) Attendance is posted on the back wall now ;o)
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