First Baptist Church of Peach Orchard                                                                 April 6, 2020

 

I pulled the door closed behind me and let the screen door slam shut. Mom was already descending the three steps from our porch  so I ran to the side and jumped to the ground. 

 

“Bobby, give me your hand.” she commanded. I looked at her. Her hands were already full with her purse, her Bible, and her bag that had Sunday School material for today’s lesson. Jerry was on the other side and she already had his hand in her’s.

 

“How can she hold my hand with all that?” I wondered, as I shifted my little Bible into my other hand.

 

She had on the dress she had made for last Easter. She was wearing her white hat with the veil in the front that was never let down over her eyes. Her lace collar matched her lace gloves that she would not put on until she got to church so they didn’t get dirty.

 

I fell into step beside her and took her hand. I knew why she wanted to hold my hand. We were dressed up for church and were going to walk the three blocks from our house to the end of Main Street to First Baptist Church of Peach Orchard. We had on our Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes. 

 

This spring day, with the fresh smell of roses beginning to open, I had on my little black suit with a white shirt and a little red tie. She didn’t want me to get messed up before we got there. I knew I could stay clean without holding her hand.

 

As we passed the General Store, I saw the dog that usually ran to greet me. I moved toward it and felt Mom’s hand tighten on mine. 

 

I looked down at my shoes as we stepped onto the sidewalk that didn’t quite go all the way down Main Street to the church. Pop had handed the shoe brush that was made from used bristles at the cotton gin, and told me to brush the dust off the shoes. I had made it this far without dust on them. But there was a rock on the sidewalk and I had to see how far I could kick it. It was not a personal best but it did go far and left a little scuff mark on the shoe.

 

I thought about how much I liked going to church. I enjoyed the stories of God’s people listening to God and killing lions. I was fascinated by the large colored pictures the teachers held up as she developed the story. I was comfortable at the little tables we sat around with the crayons and paper spread across them.

 

I skipped along beside Mom and began to sing, “Jesus loves me this I know. For the Bible tell me so.”

 

Jerry joined in with me from Mom’s other side,  “Little ones to him belong. They are weak but he is strong. Yes, Jesus loves me. Yes, Jesus loves me. Yes, Jesus loves me. The Bible tells me so.”

 

I reached around Mom and hit Jerry in the back as we finished our duet. He let out a loud “Ouch!” and Mom nearly jerked my arm out of the socket getting me back where I belonged.

 

Then I spotted a butterfly, exploring the fragrance of the tulips that had broken through the earth that warm spring day.

 

Without a thought, and before she could react, I turned loose and headed toward the fluttery path into the dust covered flowers.

 

“Come back here,” brought me to a quick stop. 

 

I returned as Mom said, “Look at your pants.”

 

I stared down at my black suit pants, now with gray dust stains on them highlighted with yellow pollen.

 

“Be still and let me brush you off.” she said without anger in her voice, almost as if she had expected that to happen before we got to church.

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“Jesus loves the little children,” I began to sing as she flicked me clean. “All the children of the world” I continued as we progressed toward the white building with the steeple pointing up to God.

 

The sidewalk had ended but we continued along the well worn path beside the street.  Another rock was on the path and I kicked it on down the path. A fine spray of dust arose around my feet and seemed to follow us down the path. A cardinal’s song joined with Jerry’s and my music as we crossed the street. 

 

There was Tom walking with his mother. I dropped Mom’s hand and headed for Tom. Mom didn’t call me back but greeted Tom’s mother.

 

Tom and I ran up the steps, seeing who could get to the entrance first. The doors stood open since it was warm and the kerosene heaters were not needed. Tom made it first and pushed me to the side where I crashed into the screen door which left little cross marks of dirt on my jacket. 

 

We headed to our classroom marked “Juniors” while Jerry went to the next one labeled, “Primary”. Tom and I had a couple of years before we’d make it to the “Intermediate” class.

 

The teacher was already in the room and was ready for these kids with abundance of energy. She quickly said, “Let’s get started with a prayer. Bow your heads and close your eyes.” With one eye I checked out what Tom was doing. He was checking what I was doing also with one eye which caused us to giggle.

 

We filled out our 6 point envelope and I marked, “Attendance, On time, Bible brought, offering, studied lesson, attending worship.” I put my dime into it and licked the glue to seal it.

 

Then we sang, “Every day with Jesus is sweeter than the day before. Everyday with Jesus, I love him more and more.” 

 

(I had no idea that twenty some years later I would meet Dr. Wendell Loveless, the co-author with his brother, Robert, of that song, at a pastors meeting in Honolulu.

 

As we entered the old, stately church, another pastor asked, “Dr. Loveless, how long have you been a Christian?” I don’t remember his reply but it was something like 60 years. 

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“How is it after all these years?” was the next question. 

 

Dr. Loveless smiled his warm, lovely smile, nodded his white hair covered head and said, “Everyday with Jesus is sweeter than the day before.”)

 

The lesson was about Jesus going into Jerusalem and the crowds waving palm branches and saying, “Hosanna.”

I had no idea what a palm branch was but the teacher had cut off a few little limbs of a willow tree. She handed them to us and said, “A palm branch looks something like this. So we will wave them and say, “Hosanna.” 

 

The waving was fun and became more fun as Tom and I waved them in front of each other. Then we waved them on the heads of other pupils. The teacher must have decided that we had learned very well because she quickly collected the branches and told the meaning of Jesus riding on a donkey into Jerusalem.

 

The idea of riding a donkey gave us some new ideas so Tom hopped onto my back. I took off around the room. As I passed the teacher, she politely dismounted Tom, causing me to fall on the floor. I noticed little white spots on my knees.

 

We sang, “Praise Him. Praise Him. All ye little children. God is love. God is love.”

 

Soon it was time to close and we sang, “The B I B L E. Yes that’s the book for me. I stand alone on the word of God. The B I B L E.”

 

The Sunday School Superintendent rang the bell indicating Sunday School was over and we were to go into church. We didn’t pay much attention to the record board hanging to the left of the pulpit summarizing how many were in attendance and how much offering was given. He gave a brief report while Tom and I went to ask our parents if we could sit together.

 

In the few minutes between S. S. and worship, the choir moved to the loft, some of the men headed outside to smoke, the women were chatting in groups of two or three, and Pop was busy shaking hands with everyone in attendance.

 

He took time to ask about a child, a crop, a new tractor, a sick grandmother, or anything else that would be of interest. He complimented the women on getting prettier and teased the men on getting uglier, until it was time to start.

 

Mom sat at the piano and played “What a Friend We Have in Jesus” signaling it was time to start. The volunteer music director asked us to stand as we sang, “All hail the power of Jesus’ name.” He then led us in an opening prayer.

 

Pop in his black suit, the only one he had, with his very wide tie made announcements while Tom and I whispered about what we wanted to do that afternoon. “Next Sunday is Easter and we will have our annual dinner on the ground and gravy in the grass. I know Sister Smith will bring her excellent casserole and don’t forget the peach cobbler.” Our ears perked up at the mention of cobbler. I hit Tom on the leg and he hit me back. 

 

We sang “We have heard the joyful sound, Jesus Saves, Jesus Saves,” as the ushers slowly walked to the front carrying the shiny offering plates. One led in prayer, thanking God for all the provisions of the week and asking God to bless the gift and the giver. When they had passed the plates to everyone and reached the back, we stood and, as they came forward placing the plates on the altar, sang “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.”

 

The choir stood to sing the special music they had been working on during the week, “On a hill far away stood an old rugged Cross.”

 

Tom and I knew we had to be quiet while Pop preached. We weren’t sure why because he preached loud enough he could be heard two blocks away. He walked back and forth as he preached, sometimes getting softer and sometimes louder. As he got into his sermon more, he  wiped his forehead with his white handkerchief and his black, combed back hair, fell to the sides.

 

People listened intensely to his sermons because he was clear about what God was saying in the Scriptures. He made it simple and used a lot of illustrations. He told stories from his own experiences as well as those of the members. He made many clear applications that would help the member to know how to live those scriptural truths. He finished with an invitation, “Today is the day you need to make your decision for Jesus. Don’t put it off. Tomorrow may be too late. Give your heart to him today. Accept him as your Lord and Savior. I’ll be here at the front to help you make that decision.”

 

We stood and sang, “Just as I am without one plea.” We went through it twice as two people came forward accepting Jesus and one for rededication. 

 

The benediction ended exactly at 12 o’clock so everyone had time to stand around and talk before heading home for their roast dinner. 

 

I said goodbye to Tom and headed to the car with the rest of the family. We were going to have dinner at one of the member’s house. 

 

As I started to get in, Mom took off my jacket and tie, looked at me and asked, “How did you get so dirty?”

 

How was I to know? All I had done was go to church.

 

Luke 19:38 “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!” “Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”