I turned my TV on the other morning to YouTube to listen to some of the old fashioned Gospel hymns and they were singing, The Church in the Wildwood and The Old Country Church. It took me back to Folly Mountain where we had a church and where services were held every Sunday afternoon. Usually the church was full. Father and mother sang in the choir and I can still remember my father coming out of the choir to take up the offering.
It’s very sad today, as many of our small community churches have closed. The older folk have either passed on or, because of health issues, are unable to attend. Young people have moved away or don’t go to church anymore. In some communities the church has closed and been turned into a home.
Being a minister myself, my wife and I have ministered in a lot of country churches. One Sunday morning, we drove approximately two hours to minister in a three point charge (meaning we pastored at three different churches at the same time). Thank the Lord, there was a Tim Hortons to stop at on the way!
The first church was out in the country and the service was to start at 9:30 a.m. We were not sure just where it was but, thankfully, at the end of the road we found it. There were a good number of people there that morning. They heated the church with a wood stove but were having trouble getting the fire started and the church was full of smoke. There was a reed organ that I was thankful my wife could play, and I had to pick out some hymns. As my wife got the organ warmed up, the church was also warming up and we were able to begin the service in this old country church.
After a few hymns, a prayer and message, we brought the service to a close and moved on to the next church to have another service. I remember one Sunday when we had four services, preaching four times that Sunday.
Church in the Wildwood
There’s a church in the valley by the wildwood,
No lovelier church in the dale;
No place is so dear to my childhood
As the little brown church in the vale.
Come to the church in the wildwood,
Oh, come to the church in the vale;
No spot is so dear to my childhood
As the little brown church in the vale.
Leslie Jobb