Is the Church at the Center of Your Life?
The church building was in the middle of my family’s farm. New Testament Christians have been meeting on the banks of Cathey’s Creek for the last 186 years.
The Cathey’s Creek church is tied for the twelfth oldest congregation of the churches of Christ in the nation. The building that the congregation now meets in was built in 1910. The roots of faith run deep along the banks of that creek. For the majority of my life all of the farm land around the church building has been owned by my family. For miles around, acre after acre is farmed by either my dad or one of my three uncles. I have spent many hours chopping corn, cutting tobacco, and running cows on the farm land around that church building. But no matter what we were doing, it was that church building that sat at the center of the farm.
In somewhat of a symbolic way, that white building served as a reminder to a growing child that faith was at the center of our family. The church was always at the center of my family’s activities. Work on the farm is long and hard. There is work to be done seven days a week. But there were three times that work stopped—Sunday morning, Sunday evening, and Wednesday night. The church was more important than work.
While in high school I played the post position for the Hampshire Hawks basketball team. The boys practice was always after the girls practice late in the afternoon. But there was one afternoon that we would not practice—because most on the team would not show up. That was on Wednesday night. The church was more important than sports.
There were eighteen in my graduating class at Hampshire. I still believe that education is best when classes are small. But even with a small class, you have to study hard to comprehend algebra or geometry. I remember lots of long nights of homework in the house where I grew up. Somehow that hard work paid off—when by some stroke of luck I graduated first in my class. But study of advanced math, American history, or English literature, always took a backseat to study of the Bible. The church was more important than getting your homework done.
My Grandpa was an elder in the congregation where I grew up from the time I was born until he passed away. In his final months, the cancer that infected his body and the treatments took a hard toll upon his otherwise strong and commanding presence. Yet he still sat in that familiar pew—second from the front on the right hand “amen corner.” Everyone could see that he did not feel good. He was not his old self. I asked him, “Do you really feel like coming to church?” His answer is forever engraved in my mind, “I can feel sick here, just like I can feel sick at home. I had rather be here.” The church is more important than always feeling like being there.
That little white church building still sits in the middle of my family’s farm. But more importantly, the faith I was taught on the banks of that Creek still sits in the center of my life. Is Jesus Christ at the center of your life? Or are there some things that you are willing to put before Him? (Mark 10:17-22).
The Cathey’s Creek church is tied for the twelfth oldest congregation of the churches of Christ in the nation. The building that the congregation now meets in was built in 1910. The roots of faith run deep along the banks of that creek. For the majority of my life all of the farm land around the church building has been owned by my family. For miles around, acre after acre is farmed by either my dad or one of my three uncles. I have spent many hours chopping corn, cutting tobacco, and running cows on the farm land around that church building. But no matter what we were doing, it was that church building that sat at the center of the farm.
In somewhat of a symbolic way, that white building served as a reminder to a growing child that faith was at the center of our family. The church was always at the center of my family’s activities. Work on the farm is long and hard. There is work to be done seven days a week. But there were three times that work stopped—Sunday morning, Sunday evening, and Wednesday night. The church was more important than work.
While in high school I played the post position for the Hampshire Hawks basketball team. The boys practice was always after the girls practice late in the afternoon. But there was one afternoon that we would not practice—because most on the team would not show up. That was on Wednesday night. The church was more important than sports.
There were eighteen in my graduating class at Hampshire. I still believe that education is best when classes are small. But even with a small class, you have to study hard to comprehend algebra or geometry. I remember lots of long nights of homework in the house where I grew up. Somehow that hard work paid off—when by some stroke of luck I graduated first in my class. But study of advanced math, American history, or English literature, always took a backseat to study of the Bible. The church was more important than getting your homework done.
My Grandpa was an elder in the congregation where I grew up from the time I was born until he passed away. In his final months, the cancer that infected his body and the treatments took a hard toll upon his otherwise strong and commanding presence. Yet he still sat in that familiar pew—second from the front on the right hand “amen corner.” Everyone could see that he did not feel good. He was not his old self. I asked him, “Do you really feel like coming to church?” His answer is forever engraved in my mind, “I can feel sick here, just like I can feel sick at home. I had rather be here.” The church is more important than always feeling like being there.
That little white church building still sits in the middle of my family’s farm. But more importantly, the faith I was taught on the banks of that Creek still sits in the center of my life. Is Jesus Christ at the center of your life? Or are there some things that you are willing to put before Him? (Mark 10:17-22).
(This article originally appeared in The Spring Hill Family Letter, February 2, 2005.)
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