This weekend was our church Easter cantata. We had it on Palm Sunday afternoon because it was a joint effort with the First Presbyterian church's choir and we had to find a time that would be good for both congregations. The cantata is called "The Risen Christ" and it was marvelous! The words are so rich and powerful, and the orchestration was beautiful. There was also a DVD that played throughout that had segments of video from the movie based on the book of Matthew. The combination of the moving video footage and the powerful orchestration and the meaningful lyrics made for quite a marvelous experience. We praise the Lord for being so present throughout the time of preparation that led up to Sunday's ministry performance and His spirit was very close during the cantata as well. Stan had worked so hard and I was very proud of what a fabulous job he did leading us. We were very grateful to have Mary and Stan sr. come, and it was also a treat to have my parents and grandparents come. Dad said afterwards he was grateful it hadn't lasted any longer because he was afraid he might have dehydrated from all the crying he was doing. Sweet Daddy. Mom then mentioned that for her, the cantata's impact was magnified because of all the layers of feelings and memories she had sitting there in the pew. She was thinking about how she had been a little girl in that church. Her parents, Billy and Sunshine Key, who were sitting next to her, had pastored there at SMUMC back in the late 50's when she was in elementary school. Now she was watching one of her daughters and son-in-law lead in worship in this church she had worshipped in as a little girl, and Olivia, her grandaugther sat next to her--not too much younger than she had been when they came to St. Marys all those years ago. Deep, rich layers of memories. I was reminded of these layers today when we went to our downtown community Holy Week church service. These Holy Week services are held in our little white chapel every day during Holy Week, and today as I sat in the choir loft during the service, Olivia sat next to me. This little picturesque white chapel was all there was to SMUMC when Mimi and Poppy and Mom and her sister and brothers came to St Marys. So that's where Poppy preached most of the time he was there. I believe they either began building the present sanctuary while he was there or completed it, but most of his preaching was done in that little white chapel. So as I sat up there in the choir loft with Olivia by my side, I couldn't help but wonder how many times my own mom probably sat next to her mom, Mimi, in that same choir loft--looking out of the old glass pane windows onto the lawn of the church--windows shaded by the old huge live oak tree covered in Spanish moss. Deep, rich layers. I'm very grateful for the deep, rich layers within my family's Christian heritage, but this Holy Week, I'm reminded of the deep, rich layers all of us have as children of the King of kings. We all are so blessed to call him, our Savior, Abba, Father!
5 comments:
Honey, how precious this entry is to me! I am sorry that we didn't take Mimi and Poppy in to the chapel while we were there. Yes, I sat next to Mimi in that choir loft. Thanks for your wonderful love for the Lord! We enjoyed being there so much on Sunday. It was a special time. The social hall and S.School rooms were built while we were there but not the sanctuary. We actually had people sitting in chairs outside on the brick walkway! I have such memories of it all being open to the outside..no air conditioning of course and no screens so an occasional insect of some size would zoom in causing no small amount of consternation!
Mom, I can't tell you how great it was having you there Sunday. We really appreciated you all making such a loving, monumental effort to be there for us.
I've loved imagining you all being in that chapel as we've sat in these services. Sweet times. Love you, Mom!!
Adrienne, thank you for sharing your tender reflections, your insightful memories. As I read about your layers, I was instantly transported to my own "little brown church" growing up - Brown's Chapel United Methodist Church. I smelled the pies wafting into the back of the church, from their perch on a makeshift table of 2X4s and chicken wire connecting the huge maples; I remembered playing softball beside those same trees, having that awful feeling knowing that I just creamed a softball right into the cemetery, and I had to fetch it; I remembered my brother tossing the rolls from the far end of a very long dinner table, only to hear my mother guffawing at the scene; I felt the wax gently burn the back of my hand as our candles provided the only light for "Silent Night". Thanks so so much -
Nick
Nick, how precious to read your own wonderfully rich memories of your little brown church from your childhood! Thank you so much for sharing them with us. What a warm, safe haven it sounds like. Aren't we blessed to have a heavenly father who works it out for us to have these rich times in our lives?
Astriss,What a great post. I always think of our Easter time at Asbury and how special it was to be part of your day when I missed my family so much. I also enjoyed you post about going to that concert with Stan..that one pic of him just looking at the stage I think it was black and white just brought tears to my eyes. What a wonderful supportive wife you are and what a neat time to spend as a family.
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