Growing up Fundamentalist Part III: Of Sunday Church Matters

From the time I was a little kid, we were in church. My parents jumped right in after their conversion to Christianity. So every Sunday morning we were there for the Sunday School hour, the Church hour, then back for the Sunday night service, and again on Wednesday nights for the midweek prayer meeting. Since I also attended the Christian school, it often felt that I lived there.

THE BUILDING
Built in the early 1800s, the main part of the brick church was a traditional style long building with arched windows on the sides and a central steeple. Over the years, the building expanded. In 1975, a large auditorium was added to the left side. A large gymnasium was added to the rear of the building. At some point that was turned into two stories of classrooms and another gym was added to the rear of that. Then that was turned into more classrooms and a large gymnasium was added at an angle to the back of the building. Those classrooms housed the Christian school as well as the Sunday School classrooms. 

The lobby of the old building was a two-story open room surrounded by a railing with an open staircase. There were large fluted columns that held up the second level and two brass chandeliers in the middle. You could access the balcony and the other parts of the facility from the second level. Beneath that area were places for coats, a room for the ushers, a bookstore, restrooms, etc. 

Our 1000 seat auditorium was 70s modern with a colonial twist. The walls were all a shade off of kelly green with open white square mounding, and the floor was carpeted in a tomato red. The main floor was a combination of oak and green padded pews in the center area and silver metal folding chairs on both sides, while the balcony was all oak pews with no padding. There was a set of steps on each side with platforms for the piano and organ. Then another set of steps took you up to the main stage which was nearly 6’ above the floor. The pulpit was a wide angled box that hooked on to the main railing at the front of the stage and had clear lexan poles for legs. Behind the pulpit were several pews for the pastoral staff. Behind that part of the stage was the choir loft which rose several levels to the top. There were doors on each side with bridges that linked the loft to the balcony as well as steps behind that went to the choir room below the stage. Behind the choir loft (wayyyy up high) was the baptistery with changing rooms on each side of that. Oddly enough, the sound room was located at the very top row of the left side of the balcony in a small arched window. How that man was able to mix sound from up there, I truly have no idea. Then again, we only had a piano, organ and flush mounted ceiling speakers throughout the room.

Eventually, the room was painted all white for a wedding which was a significant improvement. Years later, the whole room was renovated by Dad and Papa, the big stage removed and lowered and all new sound system, carpeting, chairs, and such.

THE COMPOUND
We called the church property “The Compound” for some reason that I can’t recall. It consisted of the church/school/gymnasium building; a two story apartment building which had two large apartments on the first level and 5 smaller apartments on the second level; three parsonages for our senior pastor, music/youth pastor, administration pastor; a duplex for two more pastors; a mechanics garage; another garage; playground; pavilion; several soccer fields; and then Miracle Camp, which was adjacent to the Compound via a trail through the nearby fields. 

Winter at the Compound was something else. We had a pretty large parking lot, and the local John Deer dealer would drop off a large payloader each year for us to use in the winter. That was one of the things that Dad did. He would plow the lot and pile up the snow in massive banks along the edge of the playground, so as kids during recess, this was the best ever. We built snow forts, had sled hills, and played king of the mountain. 

CHURCH SERVICES
Sunday church was pretty typical. Opening hymn, welcome, more hymns, offering and song (usually a “special number” by one of the girls from the school or talented lady singers), announcements, then the message. Depending on who was speaking, the message would be followed by the invitation to the altar and about 16 verses of “All to Jesus I Surrender” or “Just As I Am.” I’m going to save discussing the music for another post. Suffice it to say if it had a beat, guitar, or drum, it would not be allowed. So we rocked out with Violet on the organ and someone playing the piano. But every so often… we had a guest, and that always made things interesting. There was a pastor from Cleveland, Ohio would was a friend of our pastor. He pastored a very large church there. When he would come, his organist would come with him. One of the favorite hymns that he would play was “Saved, Saved” by Jack Scholfield.

I’ve found a Friend, who is all to me, His love is ever true; I love to tell how He lifted me, and what His grace can do for you. Saved by His power divine, Saved to new life sublime! Life now is sweet and my joy is complete, For I’m saved, saved, saved! He saves me from every sin and harm, Secures my soul each day; I’m leaning strong on His mighty arm; I know He’ll guide me all the way. When poor and needy and all alone, In love He said to me,“Come unto Me and I’ll lead you home, To live with Me eternally.”

Normally, when this song was played, it was slow and fairly staid. Not so with this guy. He was pumping those bass pedals on that organ… bom bom bom? And heads were turning and people were tittering… “Is this ok? It’s almost like it’s fun!” I remember Matt and I were like, ok, this is cool. We liked that guy playing the organ. So when we got to the chorus, we would get louder and louder… “For I’m Saved… SAVED… SAAAAAVVVVVVVEEEEDDDDDD!”

Oh and the other thing… We had a pastor who would lead music. As in direct. Not with a baton, but with his arms. Now it has been a while since I have experienced this, but looking back I can only imagine how different that must have been to a new visitor. And sometimes when the music pastor (who was actually trailed in how to direct) wasn’t there, someone else who be up there waving his arms like he was bringing in an airliner. So funny to think about now. 

A lot of my memories were in my formative years pre-college. Things changed after I went to college. The messages during the Sunday service varied from evangelistic (the gospel was always shared and opportunity for salvation always given at every service as well as a yearly missions conference) to hell-fire and brimstone sermons. There were several fundamentalist preachers that would come and yell at us. It was kind of the “scare the hell of you” tactic. I was never much of a fan of these guys. I did like the missionaries though. They would come from all over the world and share their slides and stories that were so far outside of my little rural bubble. One time a lady who ministered in Israel visited. Pretty much the only time a lady could speak in our church was if she was a missionary as they didn’t believe in women pastors. Well this lady got up and spoke and without warning (she had a soundtrack cued up) she busted into a full on Jewish dance on the platform, much to the stunned amazement of many. She was a full figured woman, so you can imagine that there was a lot of movement in her dancing. Matt and I had a great laugh about that when we got home that night. It was quite the talk for a while. When you go to a uptight conservative church, stuff like that really throws people for a loop, let me tell you. A lot of the messages were very practical and grounded in the Bible. 

SUNDAY SCHOOL
We had a variety of ministries at the church — for the deaf community, for special needs adults, food pantry, bus ministry, Life Saver Ministries (see Part II), Miracle Camp, the Christian school, the Sportsmen’s Dinner, youth group, evangelism outreaches, a Spanish ministry, and I’m sure there were more that I am forgetting. But Sunday School was a large part of each week. The Bus Ministry obviously had great impact in bringing many kids to Sunday school. We would have “Pack a Bus Sunday” to try and get as many people to come on a certain Sunday. There were classes for each age group — including lots of singing, puppets, skits, and times of teaching. And every so often we would catch wind that Black Bart was coming to town, which was exciting to us kids. Black Bart was the man in black and a mean gun-toting cowboy. We would all gather in the parking lot and watch an old-fashioned western shootout. The good sheriff (in white) was supposed to represent Jesus defeating the devil (Bart). I even think they rode horses!

My parents were insistent that each of us had to be involved in a ministry of some sort. They were involved in multiple ministries. They would even pick up a deaf guy every Sunday night as they could speak sign language. They would talk to each other sometimes in the front seat in sign language so we couldn’t know what they were taking about. We would try and watch and get letters here and there. (“Matt, I think they said, “You!”) And Mom was always like, “Jim! Slow down!” I guess dad was faster with the fingers. Anyway, we all had to help with the bus ministry because that was Dad’s big thing, but I chose to also work with the Pre-K class. It was really fun. I was so nervous, but watching these little kids come in at the beginning and seeing them grow, memorize Bible verses and even write their names by the end of the year was pretty awesome. It was also cool that I got to work alongside the teacher who taught me in Kindergarten / First Grade. She was just as patient with me as a teen as she was when I was little.

YOUTH GROUPS
In the midweek service, the kids would be broken into groups. As a kid, I was a part of the Whirlybirds. We would sing songs, learn stories, memorize verses, and do projects that would earn badges and trinkets which we would sew onto a red and white beanie that had a helicopter in the center of it. (How do I still have this stuff?!)

Once we graduated, we would move on to the Olympians. This was the grade school kids that would play in the gym, learn more advanced verses, fill out our manuals each week, journal for our “quiet time” devotionals and so on. When we graduated from that we moved into the Youth Group. It might have had a name… but not that I recall — Word of Life Clubs? Maybe?

Youth Group opened up all kinds of opportunities. Every winter we would spend a weekend at Snow Camp in Schroon Lake, NY. Word of Life Bible Institute was an hour and half away or so up in the mountains, and they hosted this great time of winter activities for youth. From tubing hills, to snow sculpture, to ridiculous contests, to big gatherings in this old lodge amphitheater where we were challenged in our faith. The snow sculpture was the big thing for me — we would create a theme and armed with gloves, winter coats, and cans of spray paint, try to win the best of show. It was every church for themselves to be crowned winner each year, so there was some seriously rivalry. Points were given for basketball games, ping pong tournaments, and insane eating contests in the dining hall. I vaguely remember Aaron Handrich pulling a piece of spaghetti from up his nose through to his mouth. It still makes me shudder. Snow Camp was quite an event.

Summer brought with it a bus trip to Life Action Ranch in Buchanan, Michigan. Life Action had come in the mid 80s to present a multimedia show called “America: You’re to Young to Die.” That led to them coming back and staying for over a month as our church went through quite a time of revival that touched all aspects of the ministry — people were confessing and making things right with each other and it honestly was a beautiful thing. So we decided to head up to Life Action as a Youth Group. Me being a super introvert, had NO desire to go. I think Mom bribed me one year by getting me a Polaroid camera. A few years ago I was driving through Buchanan decided to find Life Action Ranch. It was wild walk the grounds and remember all the time spent there. Mostly I remember the bus ride. I was a bit of a loner, and I honestly hated sitting for 14 hours, so I would stand up on the steps by the driver. Sorry, Chip Handrich, that you had to put up with me for however long… but it actually meant a lot that you let me stand there and listened to me.

One of my favorite events was the Word of Life Clubs all nighter — hundreds of kids got bused in for a pro hockey game, bowling, and roller skating and all-you-can-eat Chuck-E-Cheese. It was amazing. I loved roller skating as a kid so hours of that, then hours of bowling, with pizza time in the middle… I mean seriously. We would get home at 7am. Dad even let me sleep til noon/1pm, which was a bit of a feat considering.

The weirdest event, especially considering the conservative church we were, was Operation Nightmare. This Halloween night began with a line of buses following a hearse out to some field. We parked and were led down a trail through the woods. People would jump out screaming, with chainsaws, and along the trail were all these horror vignettes — people half buried, bloody zombies, and the whole gamut of horror. After being thoroughly startled (not scared, because it was kinda cheesy) we were led into a large gymnasium that was set up like a funeral parlor. Casket in the front, the tall lamps on each side, dim lighting. A speaker would begin the service like a funeral service and then he would start telling scary stories. Soon you would be on the edge of your seat, and as he came to the scary end, suddenly the lights would go out, several gunshots would be heard behind you, and without warning a strobe light began flashing and the “dead guy” would emerge from the casket, lurching through all the screaming teens. And somehow, and I have no remembrance how, they would calm everyone down and tie it all into a spiritual message of heaven and hell. Probably another “scare the hell out of you” type thing.

One summer I went to Cleveland, Ohio with a group of youth to do something called SMITE — Summer Missionary In Training for Evangelism. We ran backyard clubs for kids and had to go all over these neighborhoods and recruit them to come. We stayed at that large church I mentioned earlier and were bused to different parts of the city each day. Definitely way out of my comfort zone for this introverted kid. It was good for me and those experiences did shape me for life in ministry later on.

SPORTSMEN’S DINNER
Each year this event would bring over 800 men to our gymnasium for an amazing dinner of everything from venison to alligator, elk to salmon. There would be a keynote speaker — a christian hunter or nature photographer. Various vendors would display taxidermy or hunting paraphernalia. Dad and a team of guys would take the week off and spend days and nights in the commercial kitchen at the church making sausage, grilling chicken, and cutting up venison and other meats for the steaks. Women would be bringing in pies and side dishes. This was truly a community effort for these guys. I was not into hunting, but I appreciated the nature photographers. Throughout the year dad would get called by the local DNR / Sheriff when a deer was hit. We would literally go right then and harvest it (if it was decent) to make into venison sausage. I remember many hours helping him in the garage in the winter stripping off hides and cutting up the deer. A message and the gospel was shared after the dinner and it was pretty cool to see many men touched and come forward for prayer and to give their hearts to Christ.

BIDDY BASKETBALL
Saturdays in the winters, a whole bunch of boys would gather in the gym and play basketball. For some reason unknown to me, my parents decided that I needed to be a part of this, despite my complete lack of coordination and aiming ability. (They also tried this with baseball, which was also a complete failure. Out in left field anyone? Yup. Wayyyyy out there.) But hey, I did get a participation trophy or two. I didn’t play much as I honestly was not good. But this ministry was great for kids who liked basketball.

CHURCH POTLUCKS
As with pretty much any church in the US, there were the big church dinners. The tables would groan with the weight of all the food, and we would stand in line and fill up our plates with all this amazing stuff that normally we never got to have. One time we had these folks from Africa there and they introduced us to this stuff that looked like mashed potatoes but wasn’t. Also they gave a demonstration on how an African woman is able to carry a five gallon pail of water on her head. She put this little donut shaped thing on the top of her head, lifted up that pail, and easily walked across the front of the room with it. That was something I have never forgotten. That’s some neck strength right there. 

CHURCH BUSINESS MEETINGS
Every so often we would have a meeting that involved the business side of the church. The budget, various decisions that needed to be voted on, etc. Sometimes they would get pretty heated. One year, the church was going through a lot. The senior pastor was being asked to step down because of a series of events that had happened. This was the most volatile meeting I had ever seen. People standing up and shouting at each other, lots of emotional tears and speeches, and the threat of a split, which is what ultimately happened. A faction of folks left and started a new church, and a new pastor was installed eventually. It was a tough time. I was in my senior year of high school, and this even changed my friendship to one of my best friends whose parents didn’t want anything to do with the church anymore and took him out of school. It was hard and sad and it took me a while to get past that year. Sometimes these moments happen in churches. They do. People forget about why they are doing what they are doing. Tempers flare, words are spoken, and wounds are created. There’s hope that given time and healing, that people mended relationships and forgave each other.

Looking back, sometimes you think of the people that you haven’t seen in all these years as they were then. But I am not the same person I was 30+ years ago, you know? Thank God. I have changed, grown, matured, learned a lot along the way.

If you have made it this far, kudos to you. The stories can go on and on, and probably will. I just wanted to write some of this stuff down for me to remember some of the events and happenings that were a part of my life in my formative years. Some of these things scarred me and many of them made me a better person, caused me to grow.

Disclaimer — These are snippets of how I remember things as a kid / teen. I have no idea what it was like behind the scenes in the leadership meetings. So I am sure their perspective might be different than my recollection.