"Thank God for Small Churches"

Last Sunday Cheryl and I went to church with my family back in Reno, Pennsylvania.  Reno is a tiny community of maybe 200 souls and it is a one church town-Reno United Methodist Church.  Over the years membership and attendance have dropped and they are now part of a 4-point charge served by two pastors.  Most Sundays there are more pews than people.

I found God's call on my life in that congregation.  During my youth there was a nice sized youth group and our Sunday School class met in the choir loft.  I 'outgrew' that small church as I 'grew' into larger churches.  As the size of the churches I was appointed to grew so did the distance grow between me and the small church.  I must confess that too many times driving Indiana back roads I would pass a small church, smile to myself, and be glad I was no longer being appointed there.

So we got up and we went to church, mostly as a kindness to my sister and mother, still part of that small church.  I went not expecting much and found a worship service that was filled with the presence of God.  It began with the pastor hurrying in from her service at one of the other churches.  Two men were working to have the new sound system ready for her-it wasn't.  She was unprepared and had no pocket or place for the wireless receiver.  So she tucked in in her waist band.  It would fall down her leg and she commented she was glad it did not fall down inside her dress.  It did later!  She called us to worship by blowing numerous times on a shofar-a ram's horn she had brought back from Israel.

They did not have a pianist so she jumped down and played the piano for the opening hymn.  The singing was not pretty.  Then came the special music-a bluegrass group of 4, a curious mix of blue jeans, white hair, and an over-the-top bass player/soloist.  When they sang "I Saw the Light" and "Will the Circle be Unbroken" smiles spread out on the people's faces, voices aged and cracked sang along with the chorus, and applause greeted each song.  Then, for the first time for this group, the younger woman sang "Let This Be My Prayer" in English and Italian-a bluegrass trio backed her opera trained voice.  They ended with "Smokey Mountain Memories" sung by John, a father who has raised 4 sons by himself.  It was great!

This was followed by a children's message with a hot dog tucked inside a banana peel, a prayer time during which individuals made announcements of upcoming events, and the pastor throwing aside the bulletin and her sermon notes.  She strolled and cajoled us, meandering in the front of the sanctuary and in the recesses of her mind.  It was great!

Forget the bells and whistles.  Forget the large choir and larger sanctuary.  Forget lots of liturgy and polished sermon.  Not needed that day!  I felt the joy in the room and I saw the friendliness and peace in the faces of those around me.  I can't really explain why it was such a good service for me-don't have to.  All I know is-thank God for small churches and the faith they hold for us.