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Journal Who Am I

My home church in Haskinville, NY

I can easily recognize both of my grandfathers in this old photo
I can easily recognize both of my grandfathers in this old photo

(I found this version of the story of my home church’s influence on my life while reviewing an old sermon.  This vignette was part of the introduction to a 2005 sermon.)

Where I grew up it was ten miles to the nearest bank or full-sized grocery store.  The hamlet that our family considered home was about seventeen houses and we lived almost 2 miles outside of town..  Like many rural hamlets it had formerly had a couple stores, a gun shop  and a cheese factory.  But by the time I grew up all that was left was a small convenience type store and a saw mill, both barely holding on.  Dad would buy us Fawn orange soda at the store on the way to the infrequent night bass fishing expeditions.   The hamlet had no fire department.  The only organization in town was the small country Wesleyan church.  It was a 19th century clapboard building with no rest rooms.   It held about 100 people when there was standing room only.    I’ve seen it that full a couple times for Christmas and Easter programs.  But usually it was the Sunday morning gathering place of about 55 souls, a generous percentage of them children like me.  Since most of the people were farmers and didn’t go anywhere,  those fifty-some souls were usually present almost the whole 50 Sundays per year that the church was open.  (It usually closed two weeks for camp meeting.)  The local historians told us that there had been a Wesleyan church in that town for almost a hundred years already when I was a boy.   Pastors came and went frequently over the years.  Most were good men, but at least one some 40 years before had caused a scandal which was still used as an excuse to stay away by the less religious in the village.

As I reflect back, I think of the many ways that little church had shaped my life.  The shaping had started long before I was born.  Years before,  a traveling evangelist had come through and my Grandfather, Homer Jones, became a Christian.   The Jones family had farmed in that town since the civil war. My maternal grandfather, Samuel Isaman, was a new-comer to that town having bought a farm about 1920.   He was of Lutheran background.  When his only daughter, Dorothy, was deathly sick with pneumonia he knelt in the cow stable and prayed for her.  She recovered and  he dedicated himself to serve God faithfully in that little country church.   So my parents met at Sunday School where they remember seeking to outdo each other in childhood Sunday School contests.

So, I am told, I was taken to that little church when I was only days old.  I grew up in the habit of going to church and Sunday school on Sunday.  Sunday in that town was the Lord’s day.  Very few people worked on that day except for the daily farm chores.   In that little church I learned that the Bible was God’s truth, the guidebook for our lives and the roadmap to heaven.  I learned that love and forgiveness, charity and honesty were virtues because they were God-like.   I discovered that being unselfish was the  true measure of spirituality and that it wasn’t easy because self-centeredness came much more naturally.   I valued reading and music and speaking because they were part of church.  I learned many Bible verses by heart there and they still come back to me.

Looking back, that little church was responsible for so much of who I am.  And I wasn’t the only one similarly shaped.  The little place can boast a whole line of spiritual leaders over several decades who grew up there.   Long before large churches with snappy mission statements were the vogue, it seemed to know how to teach us to love God and love others and it made disciples.

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Journal Joy Notes Who Am I

A Personal Testimony

While I usually file my sermons in the sermon section, I decided to include this one here for two reasons.  First, because it is my first sermon at Copper Hill UMC.   Second, because it is very informative about me personally and will be a great addition to the Who Am I section of my blog.

First sermon at Copper Hill UMC

Intro

As I thought about how to begin this morning, I decided that there was not a better way than to introduce myself by giving my testimony—the story of my own Christian journey.  

Telling the story of God’s action in our lives is a Biblically recommended practice anyway, isn’t it.   In the passage Judy read, the servant of Abraham tells of God’s activity in helping him to be successful in finding a wife for Isaac.   In a sense, much of Holy Scripture is the inspired testimony of God’s action among his people, recorded for us to read and profit from later.  In the book of Revelation, in the verses that I read, John tells us that one of the weapons of the Christian church – one of the means that it can use to overcome the enemy of our souls is testimony – reciting to one another the work of God in our lives.  Testimony has several benefits.  Telling others what God has done has a way of confirming it for us too.   Testimony encourages and inspires others as well.  When one person testifies, it helps us to understand how God works and what he can do in our own lives too.  

My prayer is that this abbreviated story of my Christian journey will not only help you get to know me but also inspire and encourage your own Christian walk. 

A Christian beginning

Object: a family farm needlework or picture of my extended family

A Christian home

My journey began in on a family farm in rural Western NY.  I had the privilege of being born into a Christian family.  On Sundays, not only both my parents, but all four of my grandparents would be at our church.  I was told that I first accepted Jesus into my heart at age 6 kneeling in the living room next to my mom.  

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Hospitality to God’s Word at six

Key verse:  “He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. 12 But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.” Jn. 1:11-12 ESV

It was an important beginning of giving hospitality to God’s word, God’s work and God’s Spirit in my life.  The Bible teaches us that each of us has an opportunity to do that.  The bible is using a hospitality metaphor.   As when someone comes to the door of our home, we can either let them in our shut the door, so it is with God’s teaching in our lives.   The Bible teaches that God I as one standing at the door of our hearts and knocking.  If we will give Him entrance he will come in (Rev. 3:20).  

Growing in faith in a small church like this one

Object: Haskinville plate

Childhood Sunday school

The church I grew up in was a lot like this one.