The Old Church Reprised

The Old Church Reprised                                  4-19-2014

By John W. Vander Velden

 

One of the very first essays I wrote for my blog was titled, “The Old Church”.  That short was written more than two years ago.  It remains in the archives of “Ramblings…Essays and Such” and has been published in The Plymouth Pilot News.  But the inspiration is a story of its own.

“The Old Church” stood on a corner across the street from the hardware store in Walkerton.  Though
I arrived in this community long after its construction, I know a bit of its history.  For you see, that building was built by our congregation in the “wee” years of the twentieth century.  I had an opportunity to read a newspaper article about First Presbyterian’s building of that sanctuary.  The part that stood out most was how members of the congregation poured, on site, the thousands of concrete blocks that were used to make what in its day was a grand edifice.  I have spoken to members of my congregation that worshipped in “The Old Church”.  They speak of the beautiful windows and detailed woodwork.  I, unfortunately, have never stepped inside the once proud structure.  We sold the building to the Pentecostals in the early sixties which ended more than fifty years it housed our congregation.  In the nineties the Pentecostals built their own new structure across town.  Eventually “The Old Church” was sold and some may have had plans, but no use came to the stately edifice.

Each time I went to the hardware – and a farmer goes to the hardware often – I would look over “The Old Church” noticing the slow decay.  But it was after someone threw a brick through one of the magnificent windows that my heart began to break.  Vandals stripped the brass kick plate from one of front doors, another sign of disrespect.

You see that building – and its history – and the lack of honor of a structure built for the honor of GOD drove me to write, “This Old Church”.

It is but a grassy lot now.  The building torn down last fall.  My only view with in its wall came through the openings when the grand windows had been removed.  Soon few will remember that the building ever existed.

Perhaps that would be story enough, but in truth it amounts to only half.  For you see we moved from the LaPorte, Indiana area in nineteen seventy-two.  And with that relocation we left our church, St. Paul’s United Church of Christ which stood downtown.  That congregation had been our church home most of the years from nineteen forty-eight until we moved in seventy-two.  Only the two and a half years we lived in Florida had we worshiped elsewhere.

St. Paul's UCC during demolition in 2013

Our old church stood as a landmark in LaPorte’s heart for well over a century.  But in two thousand twelve the congregation disbanded and another “Old Church” stood empty.  I went back and took pictures of the grand limestone structure on Lincolnway and Perry Street.  How quickly the powers that be gave up on the building and even then the dismantling was well underway.  As a child I had moved through that building.  I knew of hidden hallways.  The pastor showed us all around the “out of the way” spaces – up the steeple to the bell – into the room that contained the pipes for the organ.  To me it was more than a building – it was part of my growing up.

Once when I went to visit a church member in LaPorte”s hospital -- right there, for the church practically stood in the parking lot – all that remained was a ragged hole where the Sunday School basement had been.  Yes, my heart broke at the vandalism of “The Old Church” in Walkerton, but the disappearance of St. Paul’s was personal.  Part of my life vanished – a significant part.

The essay I wrote may have been about one particular building, yet it stands for all the abandoned and ravaged structures that once housed active congregations – building erected to the glory of GOD.  Yes, a church is much more than brick and glass -- and yet within that brick and glass are the toil and sweat of many, and the memories – lives begun – families formed – and saints sent homeward.  A place where generations have gathered – uncountable sermons preached – where choir’s sweet voices rose – where halleluiahs and tears shared among a family broader than blood.

Perhaps “The Old Church” remains only in my memory – but I am richer for it!

(743 Words)

 

The Old Church            2-14-2012

By John W. Vander Velden  

 

Once proud on the corner, the monument of gray stone stands abandoned.  Now silent, how many years its great bell called, echoing throughout the town.  Long ago built with sweat and pride…long ago the center of many lives…long ago a sign of God’s presence…long ago….  Only the old remember; their eyes tear at the sight.  Scrappers have stolen the brass from her doors.  Vandals have broken the stately window of glass stained.  Stone has fallen from high up her walls.  Surely the roof no longer seals storms pounding rains.  Yet within perhaps something remains…something of the dignity…of the honor…of the truth.  Perhaps the scent of wax yet can be found among the dust and cobwebs in that place where so many lives began and others sent homeward.  The empty shell stands lonely, crumbling; the end of old dreams for God’s glory now in slow decay.  Most scarcely notice, moving past in life’s crush.  Many do not care…an eyesore, nothing more.  But to others there is nothing sadder than the old church.

 

(179 Words)