Places of the Heart

While most of the churches I served as pastor during my days of active ministry were larger town and urban churches, I have always had a great appreciation and love for the small country church.  In some ways, it speaks of the church of my heart.  Maybe it has something to do with the fact that my father was buried in a country church cemetery.  I have found some comfort in knowing he was laid to rest in a place where people have come and gone now for generations to worship God.  Perhaps, it was not a great multitude who worshipped in that small sanctuary, but some came each week to worship and cast their eyes toward those silent ones who shared the ground with them. 

The Pierce Chapel Methodist Church which has always stood beside my Daddy's grave for the past 62 years was not brown, nor was it in a valley by the wildwood, but it was the church I always envisioned when I sang the song, "The Church in the Wildwood."   It's first verse had me singing, "There's a church in the valley by the wildwood, No lovelier spot in the dale; No place is so dear to my childhood, As the little brown church in the vale."   Pierce Chapel has always been a special spot in my heart. The other verses speak of loved ones being buried beside that brown church and a longing to join them when the time comes.

 

It has always seemed to me that church burying ground is not only made sacred by the fact that the land has been set aside for holy purposes, but also because of the love and tears which mourners brought with them and the hope of resurrection they carried away in their hearts.  My boyhood singing of that song written in 1857 always brought back memories of a hard day and a hope of a glorious day still to come.