TRADITIONS OF THE RURAL CHURCH
The New England pioneers who penetrated the unbroken, trackless forests
searching for suitable locations for future homes and who spared no
physical effort in establishing these homes, would have regarded
with contempt, if not with horror, the present day tendencies toward
shorter and shorter hours of labor. For in their dictionary the term
“recreation” was practically unknown.
No new settlement could be regarded as fairly established until it
possessed a schoolhouse and a church. Naturally this involved much
extra labor and personal sacrifice.
So the New England tourist of the present day is constantly finding
these little old-fashioned emblems of self-denial tucked away, not only
in small hamlets but at the cross roads. The influx of numerous people
of different foreign nationalities and of the different religions, has
in many instances left the churches a difficult problem, financial and
otherwise, to the limited number of communicants yet remaining of the
old New England stock.
Before so many of the younger generation became ambitious for city life
and left the home farms to pass into the hands of strangers, these
churches were very active centers of culture and uplift.
However, with human nature as it is, it could hardly be expected that
there should not be some trying incidents connected with the close
intimacies of the country congregation. The new pastor soon found that
each of his parishioners had a very distinct individuality which was
often calculated to jar upon other individualities of his flock. The
nerve strain incident to preserving harmonious relations under these
conditions was no doubt responsible in numerous instances for the
“nervous dyspepsia” which has so frequently afflicted country ministers.
* * * * *
In the early days when barter rather than cash was the chief means of
exchange, the parson’s salary was necessarily small, at least in actual
cash. To make up to him what they were unable to deliver in the way
of real money, the pastor was made the subject of countless acts of
generosity in the form of loads of wood, potatoes, pork and various
other elements of family subsistence. However, the crowning act of
generosity on the part of parishioners was the annual Donation Party.
The Story of the “Raised” Biscuits
In a certain parish there was a clergyman whose family did not take
very kindly to these rural substitutes for real money. Probably the
minister’s wife had “seen better days” before she became the partner of
a struggling country pastor. And quite likely she may have expressed
her disapproval of the stingy characteristics of some in the parish in
the presence of her children.
The annual Donation Party at this parsonage was a great success in
point of numbers, but the donations themselves were rather small. Each
matron of the community was of course expected to furnish her share of
the refreshments. Probably there was not sufficient team work in the
“Ladies’ Aid Society.” At any rate, the pastor’s wife found herself,
at the conclusion of the evening’s festivities, in possession of an
extraordinarily large number of exceedingly durable “raised biscuits,”
the other donations being far below the proper standard.
It became necessary for the pastor and his wife to visit an adjoining
town the next day, their children being left behind. During the absence
of the parents there were developments which scandalized the entire
neighborhood and filled the pastor and his wife with horror.
Shortly after their parents went away the children got busy. The
residents of the neighborhood passing the parsonage during the day
noted with mingled amusement and indignation the fact that each one of
the wooden pickets surrounding the ample enclosure of the parsonage was
surmounted by a raised biscuit.
* * * * *
It was a very hot Sabbath, but the faithful residents of the parish
were practically all in attendance. The parson accepted even the most
extreme views of the tense theology of that period. Therefore the
faithful mothers of the congregation arose early in order that they
might prepare all the children of walking age and upwards to appear
in clean clothes and clean faces by the time the last bell stroke was
heard.
The Small Boy Who Scandalized the Congregation
In accordance with the custom of that period, there were no free pews,
except for the extremely poor. The owner of each of these sittings
after carefully packing his family away in the limited space available
for that purpose, closed the door of his pew.
As before stated, it was a very warm day and little “Jabe,” who for
some family reason or other was at present living with his three maiden
aunts, came to church attired only in his gingham shirt and cotton
trousers. Jabe was not old enough to appreciate the solemnity of the
occasion and it was beyond his understanding how people could be so
foolish as to be willing to sit perfectly still for two mortal hours
in church. Therefore, when he found that his attendance at church
was inevitable that morning, he looked about to provide himself with
diversion for the long period of hateful inactivity. The maiden aunts
were very devout. They gave their entire attention to the parson.
Except to occasionally lay a restraining hand on the “wiggling” urchin
who was stationed between them, they seemed to have forgotten him.
In the pew immediately behind little Jabe and his aunts, there were
several young girls. Even at this time it was often necessary to frown
upon the effervescent spirits of girls in their teens. It can therefore
be readily understood how horrified and scandalized were the “pillars”
of the church, when in the midst of the service, one of these young
ladies squealed hysterically. The minister ceased his discourse and
one of the deacons hastily demanded an explanation, which even in that
austere congregation seemed to be not only satisfying but amusing.
Little Jabe on his way to church, loitering behind his faithful aunts,
had spied a small snake on the roadside, pounced upon it and tucked
it inside his little gingham shirt. When the pastor had got well along
in “fifthly,” Jabe had taken the snake by the tail and allowed his
head to emerge from his shirt front with the above named disastrous
consequences to the dignity of the morning service.
* * * * *
Without doubt the first essential for the success of the country pastor
is the diplomatic instinct. He may be lacking in many other ways,
and yet continue to retain the good will and support of his parish,
provided that he can get in intimate contact with his people without
wounding their peculiar sensibilities.
The “Driveling Idiot”
A well-known clergyman, who was extremely popular in several parishes,
tells with much delight, his experience with a certain amiable old lady
who received him very cordially one day when making pastoral visits.
This minister was a comparative newcomer in the community and had
never had an opportunity to really make the acquaintance of the
lady in question. The conversation covered the normal range of small
town subjects, the lady showing very considerable interest in the
minister and his prospects and becoming more and more affable as the
conversation continued.
Finally it became the proper thing for the minister to gracefully
withdraw, which he did despite the urgent protest of his hostess to
linger a little longer. As he was about to take his departure, she gave
him a most approving look and dismissed him with the following words:
“I am so glad we have had this little visit. I am sure we shall all
like you ever so much. Do you know you greatly remind me of the
minister who was here when my husband and I first went to housekeeping.
He died a driveling idiot.”
* * * * *
In a remote village there was located a clergyman who divided his
energies between two small parishes. Diplomacy was not his strong
point. Probably not one-third of his hearers were communicant members.
And under his austere ministrations, many who were fairly regular in
their attendance showed a marked reluctance to allow themselves to be
enrolled officially.
In consequence of this unwillingness to assume church responsibilities,
the pastor held very pessimistic views as to their probable future and
did not hesitate to make it fairly clear and definite when occasion
permitted.
A great opportunity came to him and it may be truthfully said that he
made the most of it.
The Love-Cracked Suicide
Away back in the hills there was a young man of nineteen or twenty who
had become greatly interested in a somewhat frivolous maiden of sixteen
years. Psychologists of the present would have probably pronounced
Jim’s development as about equal to that of ten or twelve years. He was
distinctly defective mentally, but a good worker on the farm and of
generally amiable tendencies. Theology to him was as remote a topic as
Babylonian literature.
But Jim had very definite views as to this girl. He was infatuated to
the point of desperation.
The young lady in question considered it a great joke. One evening she
would be very bland and agreeable and the next time Jim appeared, she
would be very much the reverse. It is unnecessary to dwell upon the
details which are too familiar to most people to require explanation.
She was having a beautiful time tormenting poor Jim. One evening she
carried it a little too far and Jim left her convinced that life was
not worth living. Retiring to a lonely hilltop with a heavily loaded
shotgun, he departed this life with almost incredible rapidity.
This unfortunate event created a wide sensation. Overwhelmed with
remorse, the young lady could not sufficiently abase herself.
Therefore, when the funeral was held in the little country church, she
appeared first among the mourners, although there is not the slightest
probability that she would ever have married poor Jim had he lived to
continue his courtship.
Knowing Jim’s amiable qualities, all of the community were sympathetic
except the pastor. To him this situation presented the opportunity of a
lifetime.
The keynote of the funeral discourse was soon made apparent by the text:
“And Paul cried with a loud voice: Do thyself no harm.”
Whereupon the astonished congregation found that instead of having
gathered to hear words of sympathy for the family bereaved by the
insane act of a love-crazed youth, they were to hear words of
condemnation and vituperation with direful warnings of eternal misery.
The more intelligent people listened with disgust, while those who
seldom, if ever, entered the church, looked on with amusement. With
the completion of the services, the people gladly withdrew from the
ministerial presence and when safely outside, their general views were
summarized by the comments of the local cobbler.
“Well, the parson certainly had it in for poor Jim; he held him out
over Tophet for about an hour and then kicked him over in!”
“There is a Lion in the Way”
On a certain July Sabbath the afternoon service in the little church
seemed to drag. There had been a long morning service, and a session
of the Sunday school earlier in the day, so it perhaps may not seem
surprising that some of the congregation were seen to nod at times and
then with renewed effort, concentrate their attention upon the minister.
The pastor of the parish was greatly beloved for his personal
characteristics, but not greatly admired as a preacher. His oratorical
process consisted of slow, rambling talks in a low monotone
intermingled with occasional emphatic remarks in a very loud voice.
The breeze which had been coming through the open windows died away and
the congregation became more and more drowsy. The pastor, amiable and
considerate, was the last preacher in the world to resent somnolence on
the part of his audience.
The sermon progressed and the pastor’s thought was being slowly and
laboriously laid before the few who were still awake. When he found
it consistent with his system of discourse, he often projected an
allegorical picture upon the mental processes of his hearers.
Suddenly raising his voice until it echoed and re-echoed throughout the
edifice, he shouted:
“But there is a lion in the way!”
A rustle passed over the congregation and all the drowsy ones sat up,
some few looking around hurriedly in various directions but becoming
speedily reassured.
The fact that a combined circus and menagerie was advertised to exhibit
in a nearby town within a few days might possibly have had something to
do with the unexpected success of the pastor’s allegory.
* * * * *
The enrollment in a certain community church was relatively small
because of a diversity of the religious beliefs among the various
families. Those who did not belong to the faith represented by the
minister were indisposed at that period to accept membership in the
church, even if they might be fairly regular in their attendance and
assist in the church financially. Others, of course, were indifferent
altogether.
The Man Who Borrowed “Arabian Nights” from a Christian Woman
A man, naturally bright, but of limited education, had an unusually
good excuse for not attending church. He had a very large family
which taxed all his energies to support, and was sadly lacking in
church-going apparel. One day, while at the house of a neighbor, he
asked the woman of the household, who was a conscientious church
worker, to loan him a book to read.
Thinking that this man might enjoy tales of the marvelous, the woman
loaned him a copy of an expurgated edition of “Arabian Nights.” He took
the book away with him and kept it for some time.
Finally one evening he brought it back. When asked if he had read the
book through, he said he had read part of it, but it had troubled him.
Asked for a more definite explanation, he expressed himself as follows:
“Well,” said he, “to tell the plain truth, I was shocked when I started
reading. I could not understand how any Christian woman could loan me
such, a pack of lies as there is in that book!”
All of which well illustrates the different standards of the Victorian
period as compared with those of the present day.
* * * * *
The congregation of a certain New England church, especially the
feminine portion, were full of appreciation, admiration and sympathy
for one of the deacons.
The Woman Who Was Not Going to be a Pack Horse
This man wore a constant expression of submission and meekness. He
was an exemplary citizen in every respect and was faithful in his
attendance to the duties of his office.
There was a special reason why the women of the church so highly
approved of the deacon. It was reported that his wife was very
impatient with him.
Gradually there developed an atmosphere of coldness toward the wife,
more than counter-balanced by the sympathetic friendliness toward her
husband. This was somewhat irritating to the lady in question, who
so far as she knew had never transgressed any of the general laws of
society nor of the church. After a while the deacon’s wife became very
unreconciled at the situation and from dwelling upon the matter she
became probably more irritable than a deacon’s wife should be.
One day some unfortunate event led this woman to express herself more
freely to her husband than she had done for a long time. As usual he
accepted her remarks with docility and calmness.
The deacon went to his room and the wife went about her tasks in a
tumult of dissatisfaction with herself and the entire situation. She
recalled legends of the deacon’s early life which indicated he was of
a very high temper. If he had only said something in self-defense, the
situation would be more bearable. Shortly afterward she had occasion
to go up stairs and as her felt slippers made little noise, she
approached the conjugal chamber unnoted. Hearing the sound of her
husband’s voice, she stopped at the nearly closed door to listen.
The deacon was engaged in prayer and she listened to hear him express
his thanks that although a wilful, perverse person, he had been
permitted to have a cross to bear, or rather a thorn in the flesh
in the form of his wife, in consequence of which he could develop
patience, endurance and the various divine virtues.
The deacon’s wife listened to the foregoing in amazement and then it
all dawned upon her. Pushing open the door and quickly confronting her
astonished husband, she said:
“I understand it all now. Perhaps you think I am going to be a pack
horse to carry you to Heaven, but you will find out differently.”
The legend says that the subsequent amiability and angelic sweetness
of the wife eventually caused the deacon to appear almost irascible at
times.
Among the regular attendants at a little country church, were a rather
attractive, enterprising young lady and a very bashful young man.
The Enterprising Deacon Who Proposed at the Grave
As may often be observed, under such circumstances, the vivacious young
lady possessed great attractiveness in the eyes of the young man, but
held back by his natural diffidence, he failed to make his admiration
definitely known to the girl. She was not lacking in other admirers and
so it happened that when the young man in question finally developed
sufficient courage to ask the young lady to marry him, he was informed
in the most gracious manner that while she had always esteemed him
highly as a friend and might have even had a greater interest in him, a
more self-confident rival had secured her promise to marry him.
The young man was naturally very much cast down. The apparent admission
on the young lady’s part that his answer might have been different had
he been a little more prompt in making his wishes known, was especially
depressing to him.
A few years passed and the young woman, who had apparently lived
happily with her husband, was unfortunately left a widow. Her former
admirer decided that he would not be backward this time, but just
as soon as any decent period had passed, he would resume paying his
addresses and thereby forestall any of the other eligibles of the
community. He called upon the young woman and was graciously received
and thus encouraged proceeded to carry on his courtship with a vigor
and enthusiasm that to his own highly developed sense of the fitness of
things, seemed to border upon impropriety. Finally he brought matters
to a climax by again offering his hand and fortune to the blooming
widow. Greatly to his chagrin he was informed, as before, that she was
promised to another man.
This was hard luck indeed and the disappointed wooer was almost
inclined to resort to that quite common rural expedient and marry some
other girl “out of spite.” But somehow this did not seem to square with
his conscientious scruples and in fact there was no other girl about
who seemed to attract him. It was a depressing situation indeed.
But, as sometimes happens, she who had been maid, wife, widow and again
wife, once more became a widow. The twice disappointed devotee decided
this time there would be no delays due to a fantastic sense of what was
suitable and proper.
Accordingly the very next evening he called to see the doubly bereaved
woman. She met him very cordially and his hopes arose high. Feeling
that he had already made his regard for her sufficiently clear so that
there need be no time lost in preliminaries, he gave but a few minutes’
consideration to discussing the weather and other common topics before
proceeding to the matter at hand. He asked her to marry him.
The young woman gazed at him sympathetically a moment and then murmured:
“I am so sorry but I am already engaged; Deacon Harris proposed at the
grave!”