In My Old Pew @ AMERICAN DIGEST

November 13, 2016

In My Old Pew

For over five years I have always been grateful to the Lord for every extra week I have been granted. This Sunday, however, I woke up to discover that at the end of THIS week I felt especially grateful to the Lord. To make this feeling more formal I decided to attend services at the church nearest my house. In Paradise, this happens to be the Craig Memorial Congregational Church. And Craig Memorial Congregational Church happens to be the last church I attended in Paradise. Sixty years ago.

The last time I was in Craig Memorial Congregational Church was to sing “Oh Mine Papa” while my grandmother accompanied me on the piano. Although I have no actual memory of singing the song I am assured that I did and, as a boy soprano, was a great success; so much so that my grandmother’s tea-drinking coterie complimented her for the rest of her life. What I do remember about that long-lost Sunday afternoon some six decades drowned is that I proudly wore my Boy Scout uniform. I’d recently emerged from the Cub Scouts and the ascension from Cub to Scout was as close to the “Today I am a man” Bar Mitzvah moment that a rural WASP was likely to get. I don’t know how I felt about the song, but I do know I loved showing up in the Boy Scout uniform with all the flare I could find.

This morning I walked up to the entrance to Craig Memorial and was greeted warmly and shown inside. I walked down the aisle towards the altar and noted that it had not been altered. I sat on the outside edge of the second pew back from the front.

Looking in front of me and to the left, I saw the piano my grandmother had played, the pew that I’d sat in waiting, and the place where I had stood in my uniform and sang my song.

As I sat there thinking about that 60 year deep memory, a family came in and sat in the pew in front of me to the left. When they settled in there he was. He was sitting in the same place I sat waiting to get up and sing, waiting in my new Scout uniform.

The boy I was came back again today in 2016.

"I knew a lad who went to sea and left the shore behind him.
I knew him well the lad was me and now I cannot find him."

Posted by gerardvanderleun at November 13, 2016 3:03 PM

Very nicely written. Reminded me of many times at my grandparents house in Cross Lanes, WVA. All the little things I remember. Pole beans being pressure cooked in the kitchen. The smell of the bricks on the front porch. Things I very fondly remember. That house and the old church I went to with my grandparents is all gone, at least as I remember it. Nine years ago I was in the area and decided to drive by the old house. The first thing I noticed was that the apple trees had been cut down, the house largely run down and it was NOTHING as I had remembered, unlike your experience at the Paradise church. I cried and cried hard. I do not cry easily and didn't after my second divorce.I haven't cried since. I don't think the tears came because of what the house had become but simply that those days are gone. I wouldn't drive by that house again for any amount of money. I don't want my memories of that place and time in life to be anything other than what I recall.

I woke up last night about 3AM and was awake for a while. The piece you wrote had me thinking about my grandparents home. I mentally walked around the yard, under the Sycamore, gum and apple trees. I stepped on the pods that hurt my bare feet. Around the garden and into the house. Through every room remembering the wood floors, coal fireplace, hum of the flourescent lights in the kitchen and checkered ceramic tile in the bathroom. My uncle's bedroom with a ceiling poster of Peter Fonda riding a chopper. I finally fell back asleep with a smile on my face.

Posted by: Snakepit Kansas at November 14, 2016 3:51 PM

Sometimes, rarely. But, sometimes, you can go home again.

I think that when that happens, you've enjoyed a day of God's own special favor pouring over you like a balm.

Perhaps a taste of paradise? I don't know.

But thank you sir, for writing of it, and sharing your blessing with us. It flowed from the screen. Like a balm.

Jim
Sunk New Dawn
Galveston, TX

Posted by: Jim at November 14, 2016 4:08 PM

Ah, memories of church. Mine weren't always so great, with my knees getting sore, the priest droning on about money, and the "hip" guitarist bleating out some awful Vatican II-approved "hymn". I hated it, and even my parents seemed to be just going through the motions.

But I have a better set of memories: my grandmother's church, in the Polish neighborhood, which was a different story entirely. The organ and acoustics were fantastic, the traditional Polish hymns reflected the rich history of the Church in my ancestral country, and the people and the priests seemed to take the Mass and all it stands for more seriously, but with a sense of joy, if that makes sense. Christmas Mass was especially wonderful, with carols like "Lulajże Jezuniu" and my favorite "Dzisiaj w Betlejem" sung by a real and very competent choir.

Unfortunately, there's no going home here. Grandma's neighborhood has gotten very rough and ugly over time, and most of us of Polish descent have scattered to the four winds. But I still have the memories that I treasure. With that in mind, and in light of the upcoming Christmas season, here's wishing everyone an early Wesołych Świąt Bożego Narodzenia.

Posted by: waltj at November 14, 2016 5:54 PM

I came to this website because of the Melania taking Michelle's job hilarious pix and saw this. This Sunday I too went metaphorically back to the Winter Street Congregational church of my Maine childhood (my pastor was a Goldwater supporter). In my case it's been 35 years and the remnants of Winter Street has morphed into a non-religious, feel good secular society as has the UCC. But I too wanted to thank God for the miracle and to give praise to Him. So I went to Union Congregational which is in the People's Republic, but I knew the pastor was a strong Trump supporter. Amazingly, so were many of the parishioner's. And another Trump supporter from behind enemy lines was also independently called to first attend this church that morning. It's good to be home again. I too look now forward to the beautiful music from the Pilgrim Hymnal. Even though Trump is not a religious person, I am wondering if he has sparked a revival and the evangelicals were right to support him (how could they not considering who he was running against. God Bless America and make it into Reagan's shining city on the hill!

Posted by: Tanstaf1 at November 19, 2016 3:26 AM

I came to this website because of the Melania taking Michell's job hilarious pix and saw this.

I too went back to the winter Street Congregational church of my Maine childhood this past Sunday (my pastor was a Goldwater supporter). In my case it's been 35 years and the remnants of Winter Street has morphed into a feel good secular society. But I too wanted to thank God for the miracle and to give praise to Him.

Interestingly even though Union Congregational is in the People's Republic, I knew the pastor was a strong Trump supporter. Amazingly, so were many of the parishioner's. And another Trump supporter from behind enemy lines was also independently called to first attend this church. It's good to be home again. I too look forward to the beautiful music from the Pilgrim Hymnal.

Even though Trump is not a religious person, I am wondering if he has sparked a revival and the evangelicals were right to support him (how could they not considering who he was running against. God Bless America and make it into Reagan's shining city on the hill!

Posted by: Tanstaf1 at November 19, 2016 3:27 AM

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November 13, 2016

In My Old Pew

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