I remember fondly singing a song titled “The Church in the Wildwood” in elementary school in the late 1950s. Some of the lyrics still come to me but I vividly remember the melody and that we sang it in a round. “Oh, come to the church in the wildwood come to the church in the vale… No spot is so dear to my childhood as the little brown church in the vale…”
There aren’t too many little brown churches left anywhere because they have been sided with white vinyl siding with energy efficient windows placed outside and over the stained glass. I love the feelings, filled with spirit, the old time structures conjure up in my mind as I envision the children spilling out after services as the creaky old organ sends out a spirited hymn and the smiling minister greets the families as they leave.
I am extraordinarily fortunate to have traveled a great deal both in and out of our country. On many of those trips my husband and I have visited famous churches. Nothing, without equal, can rival the beauty of Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris. We were there shortly before the catastrophic fire that all but destroyed everything. To believe medieval workmen and craftsmen created this architectural masterpiece in French Gothic style centuries ago is astounding. It took but a quick moving ruinous fire to almost burn down one of the wonders of the religious world. The stones burned but the spirit of this magnificent church remained strong and evident throughout the world.
In 2021, we traveled throughout Eastern Europe visiting several countries including Poland, home of my ancestors. Our Lady of Czestochowa, located in southern Poland, was a must-see for me because other family members had visited the cathedral and said it was magnificent workmanship in marble and stone. They weren’t wrong but I found much more there. In the main sanctuary, Mass was being held when we arrived. There was nowhere to sit. Even the floor was filled with worshipers. There was narrow path along the perimeter of the huge sanctuary that allowed visitors to pass. The walls were covered with mementos of all sorts that were left by the faithful in gratitude for prayers answered. You could feel the overwhelming spirit of thanksgiving emanating from the displays. I was moved to tears.
While our stone church isn’t situated in a vale and it isn’t brown, to me it is as close as it can get because it embodies that effervescent, enlightening spirit that I found in churches elsewhere throughout the world. Dating back to 1929 discussions to build an Episcopal church to serve the Back Mountain took off and ground was broken in 1949 after many years of fundraising. Dedication was held Sept. 17, 1950. The spirit that rose up inside our church’s founding families has endured throughout 74 years and we are seeing new faces each week at our services. That spirit is alive and well inside our beloved stone church and it has escaped to touch the lives of others. How fortunate we are to have both!
By D. A Higgins
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