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I grew up in a rural church. Southern Baptist. We had a pond out back for baptisms. My father was a deacon. Sunday school consisted of some young adult reading from the suday school book verbatim (later I learned because he/she didn't prepare beforehand), reading questions straight from the book, and one of us kids answering "Jesus?" to every single question. We didn't have enough people to have a formal choir, so even children who could carry a tune were encouraged to sit behind the pastor. I loved to get up there and sing. It made me feel important.

Sounds like a wonderful church, I prefer smaller congregations. My father was a missionary, so he was the visiting "preacher" when we travelled around. And on those days I was not behaving well, I did not look forward to sitting in that front pew.....................

I was raised in a Fellowship Baptist Church. As I grew older I began to see differences between what I heard in Sunday sermons and what the Bible was teaching. I also began to see differences between what other "Christians" were doing and what the Bible was teaching.

Needless to say I eventually left and was told bluntly by the Pastor that I was on the road to hell because I had left this particular church. My response was "And you call yourself a Christian".

Shalom

Ted:-6

My Grandfather made us go to Church. All I remember is getting kicked out of Sunday School for asking Why and not taking the leap of faith. I got to stay home and cook Sunday Dinner with Grandma after that.

nvalleyvee:-6

LOL. Good for you.

Shalom

Ted:-6

It was worth the beating Grandpa gave me with his razor strop not to have to go back. I came to be one heck of a cook too! :wah:

nvallevee:-6

OUCH! on the first part and congratulations on the second. My wife is a darn good cook too although I don't think there was a razor strop involved.

Shalom

Ted:-6

nvalleyvee wrote: It was worth the beating Grandpa gave me with his razor strop not to have to go back. I came to be one heck of a cook too! :wah:


I second that emotion!!

When I was about 8 years old my buddy and I were having a good time during a Sunday morning service. Pretty soon we forgot where we were and started getting pretty loud. The Pastor didn’t care for the competition and came down out of his pulpit, walked to the place we were sitting and told us to quiet down. I’ll never forget it.

When I was a teenager several friends and I used to enjoy going to a Wed. night Baptist service. It was very small and informal and they let us pick the hymns we wanted to sing. We even got to discuss the Pastor’s message with him. My parents also enjoyed the break from the very formal and methodic Lutheran services where we were members. Today, I also have fond memories of the Lutheran services