Published: December 07, 2007 12:35 am            

The Sweetness of a Church Choir at Christmas Time

Each December I am reminded of a church located deep in the north of Lauderdale County. It was a neighborhood church and my family church going back several generations. In my memory I can see the small, white, lap-board church as it set near a red dirt road with a very old gated cemetery adjacent to the church – not pretentious, nor high and mighty, but a serving church – meek and mild.

The congregation gathered weekly for what they called, “Sunday morning preaching.” Yes, enjoying church once a week was a luxury for most because for many years the Word was only taught once a month by a circuit-riding or traveling preacher - only once a month, but a wonderful day with dinner-on-the-ground followed by an afternoon of singing.

I remember the tales of my kin people as they related to me about their beloved church and how they walked for miles and miles or rode in a wagon or buggy trying to navigate the muddy roads and trails. The desire to reach that haven of peace where all of their troubles could be given to the Lord was more than a whim, but actually the survival of their lives.

The little white church sitting on the side of a red dirt road was their lifeline and a reason to carry forward with whatever burdens plagued their souls. It was a time to give thanks, ask for strength, converse with their kin and neighbors, and learn from the preacher’s sermon. Their respect for the preacher was a deep committed love and they looked to him for the welfare of their soul.

Ah, the traveling preachers were just a step below heaven, some thought. The title circuit rider was born of necessity, because of the distance between the small churches; the preachers would ride on horseback. They traveled with few possessions, carrying only what could fit in their saddlebags. Mighty was their dedication to the Gospel as well as to their small congregations.

Come December of each year the church people would put the “big pot in the little one” as my Granny would say. Preparations were made to supply the traveling preacher with whatever the congregation could put together. Times were hard, but the local ladies gave the preacher special care and gifts, such as fresh ham right out of the smokehouse, or a new suit of handmade clothes, even blankets or quilts, plus, perhaps a few hardworking dollars put together by the Deacons of the church.

With December brought the sweet choir Christmas music sung by voices that were more accustomed to calling the cow’s home than to lilt and trill the ole favorite Christmas Carols, but that didn’t stop their time of song and the joy that the church people felt in their hearts. Such favorites as “Silent Night” and “Angels from the Realms of Glory” warmed the hearts and softened the calloused hands as their eyes reflected the sweetness of the Christmas season.

Often the music was sung without the accompaniment of a piano or organ, but that didn’t matter – the voices were true and spirited as they brought a sense of Heavenly Peace to the congregation – sweet and pure.

During the days of my grandparents and great grandparents, Christmas time was the most important time of the year. Months and months of preparation, plus many prayers were lifted to the Heavens thanking the Lord for the gift of Baby Jesus.

It’s the same today, but yet different – different because of the busyness of our lifestyle as we dart here and there keeping appointments and obligations. I think it is appropriate that we regal the carol, Silent Night, as a favorite. The stillness of the night, the softness of the babe, calm, holy, tender and mild is what we are really seeking in a life that is full of too much, too much of everything - what has happened?

When I find myself caught up with too much, too many people to see, too many places to go, too many chores to accomplish, too many … too many … too many, I turn my attention to the memory of that little country church sitting on the side of a red dirt road. This was a time of simple pleasures, good people, and the music of a sweet church choir at Christmas Time.

I hope that you have memories such as these to fill your Christmas with the sweetness of the season.

        

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