The country church where I first pastored at age 21 was so small that 50 attending the worship services filled it.
The adult Sunday school teacher held a toothpick between his fingers, pretending he was smoking while teaching his Bible lesson. When another church member’s ribs were touched during the worship service, he would scream. A senior-age female church member named Gertrude (not her real name to protect her identity) would loudly rebuke from the congregation every time I preached something that upset her, “If he’s going to preach like that, let’s all go home now!” She and her extended family would walk out. They always returned the next worship service.
One Sunday the tithes and offerings were only $17. Charlotte and I had given $15. This was 50 years ago when our combined salaries was only $150 per week! I was so angry and embarrassed that I told the congregation, “I am going to remove this board that announces our attendance and offerings until you as church members give your tithes and attend church like you should as Christians!” Dear ole sister Gertrude loudly blurted, “If he takes that board down let’s all go home!” When I took it down, she and her extended family almost ran over each other leaving, but returned the next worship service.
Another Sunday morning, a back-slid deacon who had not attended church in decades stomped angrily into our worship services while I was preaching and forcibly pulled his wife and son out of their pew to continue their feud that began inside their home before church time. All the way to their house, he screamed profanities to her that the entire small community could hear. It upset the congregation, so I abruptly ended my message.
I began the altar call by asking everybody to please bow their heads. Everybody obeyed — except sister Gertrude. Her nose was pressed tightly against the window screen (no air conditioning in that country church), watching and listening to the husband and wife feud while they walked home. Many times I repeated my instructions to the congregation (specifically for sister Gertrude to obey). She turned her face toward me and loudly said, “I am trying to hear what he is saying to her!” I knew at that point to not give the altar call, but dismiss the congregation.
Many years later while pastoring another church, I saw sister Gertrude. She asked with appearance of love and sorrow on her face, “Brother Daveed (David), why did you leave our leetle (little) church? We loved you and seester Charleette (sister Charlotte) so much.” My nonverbal emotional shock at that moment only to myself was “Huh?”
Until the first Saturday of next month, “the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost be with you all” (2 Corinthians 13:14).
The Rev. G. David Henderson is the pastor of Temple of the Lord at 611 S. Green St. in Dalton. You can reach him at angelsfood@optilink.us.
Local News
Column: G. David Henderson: Hilarious experiences on Earth while traveling on my way to heaven
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