Covenant Stories: First Sunday

Story #25 in the Covenant series

Construction on our church building continued through the Summer and Fall of 1999. I went to the church every afternoon around 6 pm, after the workers had left. It was fun to see what things had changed from the day before. Watching a building go up is like watching a person grow. The changes from one day to the next are minor, but slowly you can see things taking shape. Occasionally there are growth spurts when dramatic changes are evident, but for the most part it’s a slow process. The foundation is poured, then the frame goes up. A plywood skin appears on the outside of the frame and drywall on the inside. Doors and windows are installed. The structure slowly takes shape.

I remember walking around on the concrete foundation when the frame was up and thinking, “This is where we will worship. And right here is where I’ll stand when I preach.” I designed my own office, which is tucked away in the corner of the building in a 10x10 room. I asked the builder for shelves around the walls and a round table in the middle. I was imaging my own miniature library. I stood on that spot, trying to imagine what it would be like when books were on the shelves and I was preparing a sermon at the table.

One Saturday in November the whole church showed up to clean the inside of the building in preparation for our first Sunday. Our chairs had not arrived, but Trinity Baptist Church gave us about 75 folding chairs. The mantle that is now over our fireplace and the matching cross on the wall above it had not been installed. And there was no sidewalk connecting the church to the parking lot. Nevertheless, we were ready to hold our first service on December 5th, 1999. The second Sunday of Advent.

Ben Chappell and I cleared a temporary walkway through the rubble and rock from the parking lot to the building. I arrived that first Sunday before dawn, which has been my practice for many years. As the sun rose I stood on the porch and listened to the birds begin singing. When Jeanene showed up with the girls I grabbed my camera and took pictures. Ben came next, carrying a box of materials for his Sunday School class under his arm, just as he had every Sunday when we were meeting in other places. Michael Main was right behind him. Claud walked through the building inspecting everything. I snapped a picture of him and remembered the day he told us about his vision for our church building. It was hard for any of us to believe that this day had finally come, so we kept reassuring each other.

“Yes, we have a building. Yes, this is our church home. Yes, we’ll be coming here every Sunday from now on.”

I don’t remember a single thing about the worship service. That puzzled me when I first began writing this chapter of our church’s story. I tried hard to remember what I might have said on such an amazing Sunday, our first in the new building. I went to our archives and found the order of worship for the second Sunday of Advent, 1999. At first glance it appeared to be just like any other Advent Sunday. The Jones family lit the Advent candles. Amy Main sang “O Come O Come Emanuel.” Chris Kasper did the call to worship. The kids sat with me on the blanket. We sang and I preached.

I can’t remember any of it. Not one word.

Looking more closely at the order of worship, I noticed that I offered a prayer of dedication for the building at the beginning of the service. Looking around further, I found that dedication prayer written on a piece of paper. It was composed by George MacLeod.

It is not just the interior of these walls,
It is our own inner beings you have renewed.
We are your temple not made with hands.
We are your body.
If every wall should crumble, and every church decay,
We are your habitation.

Nearer are you than breathing.
Closer than hands and feet.
Ours are the eyes with which you, in the mystery,
Look out in compassion on the world.

So we bless you for this place, for your directing of us,
Your redeeming of us, and your indwelling.
Take us outside the camp, Lord, outside holiness,
Out to where soldiers gamble, and thieves curse,
And nations clash at the cross-roads of the world.
So shall this building continue to be justified.

When I read that prayer yesterday, a dim memory came to me. It is the memory of losing all thoughts of the building as the familiar rhythms of our church’s worship took over. I read the prayer to open the service, but after that the worship was like that of any other Sunday. We prayed and sang and read scripture and tried to turn our focus to God. We were in a new place, but all of these worship movements were very familiar.

Our decision to use George MacLeod’s wonderful prayer came from an honest hope that in the future, the center of our community would be God and people, and not our building. As much as I love our quiet refuge in the woods, a building is always a danger for a church. A building draws attention to itself. The demands and upkeep of a building are always threatening to take a greater portion of a church's energy and resources. Because of this, it is the duty of a church to care for its building and be thankful for it, but also to hold it somewhat at arm’s length.

Have we kept a good perspective on our building? I don’t know if we have or have not. I think it is hard to be objective about one’s own church community. I know that our intent was to be healthy in the way we think of our building, and I know that remains our hope. But I think the answer to that question will reveal itself only as time passes.

Gordon Atkinson

Note: With 25 stories we're about halfway through our church's history. From 1987 to 1999 we met in various places. We've been in our building from 1999 to 2009.

Reiley, my oldest daughter, arriving.

Shelby arriving.

Jeanene and Lillian.

Ben & Michael Main.

The worship room on that first Sunday. Temporary chairs and no mantle above the fireplace.

Claud checking out the Sunday school rooms.

Jeanene and I after the service was over.

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• covenant baptist church
• faith
• the covenant stories

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