Homecoming

Yesterday,  my wife and I attended a significant “homecoming” at a significant church. In June of 1983 I was as despondent, discouraged and depressed as I had been in my life. I didn’t have a job or any job prospects. Two weeks prior I had not only walked away from my church, as far as I knew at that moment, I had walked away from the vocation that I had spent seven years in college and seminary preparing for.  Four years prior I had graduated with honors with a master of church music degree  and  then landed at the First Baptist Church of Rossville, Georgia as Minister of Music and Youth. While in my personal and vocational stupor, my phone rang and my friend, Reverend Gary Grogg, was on the other end of the line. Gary was then the pastor of the McFarland United Methodist Church in Rossville. The church is just across the street from Rossville First Baptist.  After a brief conversation, Gary asked me what my wife and I were going to do about going to church.  I told him that we had visited one church, but had made no definite plans.  He then said, “I was wondering if while you’re trying to figure out what you want to do, if you would come be our youth director”. I said, “Gary, I don’t think that I could be of much use to you right now.”  And then he said the words that would change the direction of my life. “David, I thought that we might be of some use to you.” So I took him up on his offer and got right to work as their part-time youth director.

I learned quickly that Baptists and Methodists do things a bit differently. At this time McFarland had both a Sunday morning service and an evening service, which was kind of unusual for a United Methodist church. It was not unusual for me as I had been going to church twice on Sunday my entire life (I think it was a former Southern Baptist who insisted that they have an evening service). So I did what I had always done and brought the youth group to the church service on Sunday evening.  After a time or two Gary asked me why I was bringing the youth group to church on Sunday night. I said, “Why wouldn’t I?” And he said, “That’s why we hired you as the youth director. Take them bowling.  Take them to the Pizza Hut. Do anything but come to church. They do that on Sunday morning.” For a while I felt like I was playing hooky, but we started doing all sorts on fun things on Sunday night.

It was around the issue of Sunday evening services that I learned another huge difference in Baptists and Methodists. As a staff member I was a member of a committee called The Council on Ministries. During one of those meetings the issue of Sunday night church came up. After some discussion the consensus was to discontinue the night service. Growing up as a Southern Baptist and having only served Baptist churches to that point, I was accustomed to monthly business meetings. Although any member of the church was welcome in those meetings, there was usually a small majority of members in attendance. But no matter how many showed up, this body could vote with a simple majority on various issues and that vote was binding for the whole church. Since the business meeting was open to the entire congregation, those in attendance were considered to be “the church.” Without a formal vote, the Council on Ministries decided to suspend Sunday night services. First of all it bothered me that there was not a showing of the hands majority vote and it bothered me more that these few people made this decision for the whole church.  I asked the group of about eight people, “Shouldn’t we take this decision to the church?”  Gary said, “We are the church“. In other words the congregation empowered its small committees to make decisions that were binding for the entire body of believers. The decisions didn’t have to go through the deacons or the business meeting.

As the weeks turned into months, I forgot how miserable I was and got into the business at hand with my youth group of about fifteen souls.  They were a great group and responded positively to the teaching and activities that I provided.  During my years of youth ministry as a Baptist it was not unusual for me to more or less manipulate the group to tears with an emotionally touching activity. During an informal meeting with Gary, as my pastor and overseer, he said, “I notice a lot of crying as your group leaves your meetings.”  I said, “Yes, it is not unusual for that to happen”.  Gary again made a comment that proved to be a lifetime teaching moment for me. He said, “David, isn’t laughter a valid emotion?” Point well taken.

After two years, which became my rehab assignment, I was tempted to accept a part-time music leadership position at a local Baptist church. This larger congregation gave me an opportunity to use my music skills. They also offered me a much larger salary.  I would not learn for several years how hurt this youth group was with me for leaving them in the middle of a meaningful ministry for us all.  I was to remain at that church, the Signal Mountain Baptist Church,  off and on for nearly twenty years.  After resigning that position, my wife and I took some much deserved time off from church and then a member of the McFarland UMC invited us to visit McFarland again. We did just that and stayed there for seven more years. The first three years I was just a member. Then after their music director left, I led the music there for another four years.  That was a marvelous time for all of us. I retired from music ministry from that church about four years ago.

At homecoming yesterday, my wife and I took a seat on the pew behind one of my “youth.” Before the service she introduced us to her children and said, “David is my old youth director.”  I didn’t mean to embarrass her, but I did with my quip of “Yes, her very old youth director.” Her face turned a little red and I immediately regretted my unnecessary quip and tried to make up for it as best I could. The guest speaker for that service yesterday was none other than Reverend Gary Grogg. He brought a sermon on keeping “the main thing the main thing.” With controversy raging among United Methodists over the issue of gays in ministry, the “main thing” he concluded, is love and inclusion of all people. I’m sure he carefully considered taking a public stand on the issue at hand with United Methodists. The woman in front of us was not the only “youth” in attendance and it was so good to see them and talk about “old” times with them and their grown children.

The depression I was experiencing in 1983 was not to be diagnosed and treated for nine more years. It’s a wonder that I had done as well as I did in those two churches over all those years.  

Last thing. “Homecoming” took on a much deeper meaning yesterday when one of the saints of McFarland UMC passed away yesterday morning. That death put a pall on the service and it was a muted celebration. Who knew that when Gary told me, “We hoped that we could be of use to you” that all of it could mean so much for so many people. Rossville First Baptist Church closed its doors about three years ago. The Signal Mountain Baptist Church has since also closed its doors. But with the significant deaths of a person and two churches, life goes on. For that I’m deeply grateful to still be among the living.  And yes, tears are also a valid emotion.