A blog by Kevin Wright on the emerging minister’s valuing community triggered my thinking this week. Many emergents want to “do life together” at church. They do not want “punch in worship” that wraps up a person’s Christian duty in 60 minutes, but yearn for a church something that sounds a lot like a 1960’s commune or medieval monastery life. That blog got me thinking more about my own childhood and I’ve never shared that online so here goes…

I was raised in a monastery

I’ve never shared this online but I was raised in a monastery. Really! I spent my childhood and teen years in a Christian community that had little contact with the world. I know all about “community” and “doing life together.” What most of the emerging ministers want I had when I was a kid. Just let me describe my childhood and teen years and show you how much time we spent in the Christian community “doing life together”

Sunday morning

Pretty much all day Sunday was given to “doing life together” with other Christians. I woke up every Sunday morning to the sound of organ music played from 33 RPM LP “Hi Fidelity” records. I went to Sunday school by 9:30 am and then to worship at 11AM and even when the service “let out” we stayed around visiting and chatting with people until 12:30—three full hours of life together Sunday morning at my childhood monastery.

Sunday afternoons

Most Sunday afternoons the monastery parents traded kids—my best friends came to my house for the afternoon or I went home with them. Activities were pretty limited in those days since we did not watch TV or even have video games. We ate big meals, fed the dogs, took walks, and sat around the rest of the afternoon reading “Sunday school papers” which were packed with “narratives”—stories of life that weren’t explicitly didactic (and some had cartoons too-like the “Sunday Pix®). This was Sunday afternoon at the monastery as a boy growing up.

Sunday evenings

By 7:30 PM we were all back for the evening “evangelistic service” which lasted to 9PM—raising to 4 ½ hours the total in-church time by bedtime let alone the afternoon. But that was only until the late 1960’s when we moved the evening service to 6PM so we could participate in “Christian Koinonia” (i.e. the 60’s word for “Doing life together”) at each others’ home after church. These after-church gatherings rotated around from house to house and always featured pie and ice cream. We fellowshipped” until almost 10 PM then went home, did ten minutes of homework and tumbling into bed after a total of 12 ½ hours of continual time with other believers “doing life together.” This was my Sunday at the monastery where I grew up.

Wednesday Prayer meetings

Three days later we were at church again by 7:30 PM. “Prayer meeting” was the “people’s meeting” not just another time for the pastor to pretend he was a seminary professor. There was no teaching or preaching (other than a short devotional thought sometimes). The meeting was given over to accountability and sharing of the laity. At my church every person attending usually gave a “testimony” every week, not in any special order, but they just waited until “everybody got in.” “Testimonies” reported on how you had been “doing life” on your own the last few days. People reported on friends at work they were praying for, how they had tried to witness to someone (or how they chickened out and need prayer for boldness). Sometimes they retold the story of how they had “gotten saved” years ago or how they had been delivered from alcoholism or cigarettes. After “all hearts were clear” then we all went to prayer. This was not a “pastoral prayer” by the professional but a “season of prayer” by everybody in the pews. We turned around and knelt at the pews and people prayed one by one—sometimes every single person in the room prayed—including teens. In these prayers we heard the deepest concerns, the aching groans and fears of the people—their prayers were a window to their private soul. When we saw them after prayer meeting we knew they were broken-hearted about their son or aunt who “was away from the Lord” or who had “broken off all contact with me.” After the prayer meeting was over we hung around and visited then went to get pie—this time at Besecker’s diner, since it was not Sunday and we could buy things. After another hour or two of “doing life” at the diner, laughing and joking together we ordered a second round of pie (which Hilda Hess always paid for) then we went home to do 15 minutes of homework and tumbled into bed having just spent another 2 ½ hours together—making the total for the normal week at my monastery childhood 15 hours.

But there’s more—we had revival meetings.

But many weeks weren’t normal 15-hours-of-life-together weeks. That might be enough for regular Christians but not a monastery—we also had two revival meetings every year, one in the fall and the other in the spring. When revival meeting came around in October and March we did not just gather on Sundays and Wednesdays but we gathered every single night of the week. Professional evangelists like out-of-town gunslingers came to preach and usually the church would also hire musicians to run the first half of the service. These musicians traveled with huge trailers and displayed on the “platform” their marimba, trombone, accordion, black-lit Scene-o-Felt and a dozen other marvels of musical science and technology. It was the equivalent of a strobe-laser-video-smoke show today and better than anything my school ever put on. In fact some of my buddies at school would actually come to see the “chalk drawings” done by these “song evangelist.” Following the music came hot preaching and long altar calls then a soft and tender “alter service”—where the people who had gone forward would testify to their newfound relationship with Christ. The lesser aware would sometimes confess sordid sins to the teen’s delight and when some guy’s old girlfriend went forward he’d always be nervous at what she might confess. After the revival meetings there were more snacks in the “fellowship hall” (a late 1950’s innovation) or we’d go out to the diner again and get some more pie. We did this a full week (sometimes 10 days) twice a year… meaning that during revival week I spent a full 25 hours “doing life and worship” with my “brothers and sisters” (that’s what we called people—no first names, no mister, but they were “Brother Trieble and Sister Chatfield.”) This was my monastery life during revival weeks.

And we had camp meetings too.

Every summer we packed up the car and took everybody to camp meeting—not just for an evening service but for the whole week. Services started on Friday and went though the following two Sundays—ten full days of three services a day. I went to church every morning, afternoon and evening for ten days straight—30 services in all. But there’s more than that! The camp meeting day started with a 6AM prayer meeting which was announced by ringing a large bell—even some youth attended, including my buddy Dean and me. There were “ring meetings” here and there before and after supper—lay led services where people of all ages (including teens) gathered in a circle and gave testimonies and sang together. There were “afterglows” where the young people gave a testimony and tossed a stick into the fire (older folk know what this is called but I can’t say it here or this article won’t get through my own University’s filters—go ask your grandpa). After the testimonies we’d roast marshmallows then slip away to kiss girls under the 200 year old oak trees in the camp meeting “grove.” Camp meeting was a ten day adventure of discovering what it was like to live full time in a monastery with your life ordered by a rigid schedule organized by ringing bells. One ten day camp added 150 hours to my annual “doing life together” total. In that ten day period I spent more time with other believers than an average church attendee today spends in four years! No wonder they yearn to spend more time “doing life together!”

But there’s more!

I have not even mentioned work days at the church. Or how about the annual Sunday school picnic where we shared and played together for 8 straight hours on a Saturday every June? Or how about a missions trip to New Mexico? Or what about the week-long VBS? Then there’s the time we spent driving to and from to Quarterly zone youth rallies where the fishing was better because there was a larger pool of girls. Then every few years there would be a long caravan going to Winona Lake for the National youth convention for a weeklong camp-like event. And by the end of the 1950’s youth camps had been founded so besides camp meeting there was another 6 day camp of 24-7 life together. And I’d have to add in the time we did life together decorating and promoting the twice annual Sunday School rallies, promoting “Twin Sunday” or Full-a-pew Sunday, or contests between the red and blue teams with the losers cooking a banquet for the winners—indeed I’m not including all the meals and banquets we had—honor banquets, Valentine’s banquets, Sunday School teacher honor banquets—I ate more pie before I went to college than I’ve eaten since in 40 years!

This is why we avoided “worldly diversions.”

You’ve probably heard about the “legalism” of my parent’s generation—who raised boomers like me in the 1950’s and 60’s. We kids weren’t supposed to go to “worldly amusements.” We didn’t go to movies. We didn’t go to dances. We didn’t go to the Cir-cuss or Carn-evil. We didn’t even own TVs (though we watched our neighbor’s). We didn’t take ballet lessons, we didn’t play football, and we didn’t go bowling. Basically we didn’t do most all of the things boomers insisted their children do in order to have “a full life.” You may have heard that we were told these things were sin—as when boomers say, “When I was a kid it was a sin to go bowling.” Well, that’s not the whole truth. The truth is these things were worldly diversions. If I got in a school play or football what would I do when revival came around—which would I attend, play practice or revival meeting? If you live a normal life the answer is clear: for the “balances life” you go to a little revival meeting and a little play practice—it wouldn’t hurt to miss one or two nights of revival. BUT if you are living in a monastery the answer is different. You get rid of anything that competes with your doing life together as a church.

And so when you emerging young ‘ens complain about the boomers’ “drive thru spirituality” and “one-hour-a-week-religion” and you grumble at their serious lack of “doing life together” in the church, I want you to know that many boomers are not totally ignorant about community and “the 24-7 life together.” Many of them remember it well—they were raised in the same monastery as I was!

Keith Drury www.TuesdayColumn.com

So, what do you think?

Click here to comment or read other comments.