Easter.
I think I have more memories from my childhood of Easter than any other holiday.
As a young child, I remember the dresses, shoes, socks, bows… I always got a new purse, and of course, it wasn’t Easter without a new hat.
I remember dying Easter eggs, hunting them at my grandmother’s house… I remember ham and turkey and deviled eggs…
One memory for me, though, is constant… every Easter, my Daddy would sing the song “He’s Alive” on Easter Sunday morning.
In my childhood church, he would sit on the little pew…
Ok, we need to pause here and explain little pews, or you could even call them padded benches; the churchy name for them is pews… Let me describe to you how church stages were set up…
The stage of most traditional churches almost always had a pulpit (that’s where the preacher stands to preach) in the center, with a matching communion table in front of the pulpit. The front of the communion table was usually engraved with the words “This Do In Remembrance of Me.”
On the stage right behind the pulpit were two small pews, one on either side.
Behind that was a dividing wall, and behind the dividing wall were the longer pews for the choir.
My childhood church had only two choir pews, and my husband’s childhood church had three really long choir pews. Their “choir loft” was quite large. And Tree Town, wait for it…. They didn’t have choir pews… they had mauve-colored chairs that matched the pews.
The smaller pews on either side of the pulpit were meant for the pastor and the music director. The pastor would take his place early in the service and commonly sit on one of the small pews during the music service. The music director would sit there during announcements and such, and then during the music service, this pew provided him a place to sit so that he could return to his position to call the next hymn number from the hymnal and lead the congregation in singing.
When we first attended Tree Town Baptist, they had “thrones” instead of small pews. The pastor’s “throne” was bigger and more prominent than the others. On the opposite side of the stage, there were two smaller thrones. I assume one was for the music guy and an extra one for anyone else that needed to be on stage. It was much more regal than what I was accustomed to.
I don’t remember precisely when the thrones disappeared from the stage at Tree Town. It was soon after the pastor, who had been there for 20 years, resigned. He was much more of a “throne-type” pastor than the next pastor.
Side note… those thrones sat in a storage room for years. When I left, they still hadn’t parted with them.
That was a long way around explaining what I meant by my Daddy sitting on the small pew to sing “He’s Alive,”… but I can so clearly see him sitting there every Easter singing that song. It is ingrained in my mind… and I love that memory. First, he would set up a microphone to mic his guitar and then a separate one for his voice. Then he would sit down and sing.
This Easter morning, for the first time in many years, I got to hear my Daddy sing “He’s Alive” on Easter Sunday, and it was good, so, so good. Not just his singing, because the truth is, I don’t even think Dolly Parton can sing that song as well as my Daddy can.
The singing was great, but being in service with family and friends was good. It just felt right.
And there were no small pews because this church doesn’t even own a pew.
Today is the first time I’ve felt “at home” on Easter since we left Tree Town. I’ve learned that these things take time… lots of time.
That brings me to where we have landed… for all the inquiring minds that wonder if we ever went back to church…
We finished up our time leading worship at the church plant in December 2021. By this time, we had established a good relationship with the pastor and the associate pastor. And remember, this church was a plant born out of my parent’s church.
So, let’s take a little trip back to 2008.
We left the church my husband grew up in on August 13, 2008. I’ve written in detail about that in earlier posts.
My parents and many of our friends left that same church later that year.
As I stated before, we took zero time as a family to regroup or gather ourselves. Instead, we literally left our home the very next Sunday on a mission to find a new church home.
It was October 2008 when we visited Tree Town Baptist for the very first time. By that time, my parents were visiting churches right along with us. So that first Sunday, when we visited Tree Town, my parents and grandmother, as well as my father-in-law, were with us. They all liked Tree Town Baptist, but it was not what they were looking for in a church. However, they knew we needed a place for our kids, and in the beginning, they encouraged us toward Tree Town Baptist.
But Tree Town Baptist was different from what we were looking for in our flesh. I’ve shared many times that we sought a much more contemporary church. I wanted newer music, a hip pastor… I was tired of tradition and pews.
But Tree Town had a much more elevated feeling about it than the church we came from.
The church we came from was stuck in the 70s. The stained glass in that church was really just plexiglass. The building wasn’t grand or even pretty. The people were down-to-earth, working-class people. The budget was nothing to write home about. In fact, the church struggled to make ends meet.
Tree Town was what some might call “high church”, especially in 2008. They’ve remodeled and tried to take on a more contemporary look and feel since then, but in 2008 it was different. The chandeliers were real and had a story behind them. The stained glass was real, and each pane had been funded by members. Every window had meaning. The sanctuary was just grander. The kitchen was industrial, had commercial stoves and ovens, and the youth building still smelled new. The gym had a full-court basketball set up. It was nice. Much nicer than anything we had ever seen. There was money at Tree Town; you could almost smell it.
These people wore suits and ties, dresses… their best of course… but it still had a very welcoming feeling to it (at that time).
I look back and wonder if what we felt was welcome or if we were just taken by this new environment. Tree Town was traditional but much more modern even at that time than the church we came from. They had screens for the song lyrics and sermon notes, they did still wear choir robes but that helped give it that elevated feel, they did sing some modern songs and it felt like they could possibly be headed toward a more contemporary way of things.
Still, we wondered… maybe this was what God wanted. Maybe hip and cool weren’t on God’s radar for us. Perhaps this was the difference we were looking for. It felt right. It was just different enough from what we came from. Maybe not the “different” we were seeking, but different, nonetheless.
I said this last time, but I think it bears repeating… I have no doubt whatsoever that God wanted us to join Tree Town Baptist. I don’t pretend to know His reasoning, but I know it was where we were supposed to be.
Those things are evident to me through the people we met, friends we made, lessons we learned, children we led to Jesus, people who impacted us… It was where we were supposed to be for a season… a season… only for a season…
And that was the hardest thing for me to come to terms with after we left Tree Town Baptist. I thought we had joined for the remainder of our lives. My daughter could envision her wedding there, and I could as well. I figured my son would marry someone in the church, and they would raise their family there as well. This was the place for us. In my mind, it was forever. But I was wrong.
I’m just going to be completely transparent (yet again) because it’s all I know how to be…
I liked this more elevated form of church. I liked the big budgets and the pretty things. I liked the money that flowed through, and the prestige that came from being the biggest church in town. And when they hired me, I liked that too. I had arrived. In my mind, this was how it should be.
And in my pride, I strongly judged other churches, including my parents’ church.
You see, they didn’t join Tree Town Baptist or any other church. Instead, God led them to plant a church in the same town as the church we all left. They realized the need for something different in that town. They knew that if they had been hurt by churches, other people probably had been too. So, they found a pastor who planted churches, and along with a team of people, they built a church from the ground up.
Not us, though. While our parents planted a church, we joined Tree Town.
And this worked for many reasons.
Tree Town was an established church. Tree Town had kids the same age as ours. We needed to find a place our children felt comfortable, and that was Tree Town.
Neither Jeremy nor I had ever attended a church without our parents. People respected us in our old church, but we had ridden the coattails of our parents. We were so and so’s daughter or so and so’s son. At Tree Town, we were simply Whitney and Jeremy. It was almost a rite of passage. For the first time in our lives, we served based on our own merits. It was good for us.
It has taken me the past few years to be able to recall any of the good memories from Tree Town. Our exit from there was traumatic; it was hard and painful and still is in many ways. But I can tell that my healing has progressed because I’m starting to remember some of the good times and not only the bad ones. I can look back and realize how God was working, and I can recognize the things He wanted to teach us.
By 2009 we were deep into Tree Town, and by 2010 my parents and their friends launched their church plant… in a movie theatre.
We attended their first service, and for several years, we visited their church regularly.
Their church was different. Much different than Tree Town. And as I mentioned before, we had bought into the method, the style… we had become good, traditional Southern Baptists. So, this different style of church was something that made us uncomfortable in a lot of ways. We struggled to understand their method and practices. But we respected the fact that they were doing something different in a town that needed something different. And like I said before, we visited them in the beginning quite regularly. But the deeper we got into Tree Town, and especially after I was hired by the church, our visits became fewer and fewer. We had too many responsibilities at Tree Town to miss services.
To say we couldn’t picture ourselves at this church of my parents would be a gross understatement. We were too bought into Tree Town Baptist to even fathom the idea of anything different. We were good club members. We followed the rules, attended the services (well, I only achieved a 2 for Sunday night attendance in my evaluation, so we know I wasn’t great at that part) we went to the camps, served at extracurricular events, sang in the choir, taught classes, worked with the youth… you name it, we were in.
It could be said that we were indoctrinated into the ways of Tree Town Baptist. If this was a cult, we were faithful followers. If it was a club, we were the best of members. If it was a church… well, if it was a church, it had taken on many extra activities and requirements other than what the Bible laid out for churches.
But we didn’t recognize any of that at the time. When you are deep in a cult or club, you don’t realize many of the indoctrinations until you are out. You are bought in and follow the ways of the organization. And we were in. We were team Tree Town! We wore the colors, flew the flag, followed the rules, walked the walk, and talked the talk… we were in deep.
So deep that, as I said before, we held disdain toward any other church, method, or style.
I regret that attitude so much. I regret looking down my nose at any other church.
And I know what you are thinking… you are thinking, in this moment as you read this, that my whole blog has in many ways been me “looking down my nose” at other churches. But if that’s what you think, then you’ve missed the meaning behind the things I’ve said. It’s the organization as a whole for which I hold disdain. It’s the machine of the church, the business… and Tree Town Baptist has become that machine… so I do question what it has become, and I question any other church that places more emphasis on money and power than reaching people for Jesus. Or an institution that hides behind the idea of reaching people for Jesus to cover their corrupt practices. Or frankly, an institution that hires a pastor like the current pastor of Tree Town and continues to protect his image.
When an institution finds itself protecting the image of their pastor over protecting the people he has hurt with his actions… there’s a problem. This is where spiritual abuse is left to grow and thrive.
I honestly didn’t even intend to go here with this post but it needs to be said. Churches that continually allow a person, a pastor, a group of people to hurt others and then cover things up… those churches need to take a good look into their structure and figure out what is causing this to happen over and again. This isn’t a coincidence.
My case doesn’t stand alone. There are a multitude of people who share similar stories from their time at Tree Town. And not just former staff members, but former members, current members and people who have visited the church. Why would an institution be so afraid of what things might be uncovered if they were to take a closer more in depth look at things? It’s a question worth asking.
It isn’t a coincidence
I pray that I never again get so tightly intertwined with a particular way of doing things, a denomination, a style, a tradition, or a group of people that I lose the ability to see things through God’s eyes. And I pray I can always see the signs of spiritual abuse quickly and fully for what they are and that I will have the courage to call it out for what it is.
It took a good kick in the ass to show me that how we were doing things at Tree Town was not how God wanted us to do them. I had to get the air knocked out of me, have friends turn their backs on me, and learn the lesson the hard way.
I was proud.
The same church that I couldn’t understand why and how they did things, the church that I was sure needed more of Tree Town’s class, money, and methods… that very church…the one my parent’s saw the need for way back in 2008…
I would come to understand why they became a church for hurting people. I began to understand their methods and the reasoning behind them… because I was that person that now needed them…
When I felt dumped by one organization, the one I gave 12 years of my life to, the one I planned to grow old in, plan my children’s weddings in… when Tree Town Baptist became the thorn in my flesh, the place that hurt me…
…that church that my parent’s and their friends planted… they were waiting to pick me up, hold me, love me, pray for me, support me…
They didn’t even know it when they planted it so many years ago… they had no idea that one day I would need it more than they could ever imagine. They didn’t know that this would be where I would land, where God would bring us to be loved… they didn’t know… But God did.
And I am so very grateful.
You see, after our time at the church plant we slowly transitioned to the original church our parents helped plant. We filled in leading worship a few times, attended in between and after being there for 2 years we feel like this is where God wants us.
We have slowly found our place within this church. We are serving and being served. We are loving and being loved. And it’s good.
But it’s not for everyone. And I want to be careful. Traditional churches, though I loathe them, have their place… the traditional side of Tree Town is not what’s wrong… there are much deeper issues… but traditional churches, whose eyes are set on Jesus… they can reach people for Jesus… nontraditional churches, though they aren’t for everyone, can also reach people for Jesus.
We all have different likes and dislikes, needs and wants… The common thread of the Gospel makes a church, not its style or methods. As long as it’s Jesus centered, the aesthetics, music, etc., are only a tiny part.
People make up the church. That’s how God ordained things to be. It’s not a denomination. It’s not a traditional building or a contemporary building. It’s not a building at all. It’s the people… And people are human, and they will fail. I have failed people over and again. I have ostracized people who were different from me or believed differently. I shunned people who left Tree Town years ago. I am guilty.
I don’t sit behind a computer and pretend to be perfect. I am not. Ask anyone. They’ll tell you. Ask me, and I’ll tell you.
I am flawed.
I have found a church that accepts and embraces those flaws. A place that allows me to use my gifts. A place my family can worship together.
This is where God has us for this season. And honestly… I love it.
Back to Easter… I never dreamed I would be able to be in a church with family again. I didn’t even know I wanted to. But sitting in a service hearing my Daddy sing “He’s Alive”, seeing my in-laws, nieces, and friends… I don’t pretend to believe that’s what church is about… but it’s good…
Jeremy said this not so very long ago, and it struck a chord within me… He said, “Following Jesus isn’t a straight path. Sometimes that path is long and winding; sometimes it comes full circle and brings people back into our lives.”
I’m thankful for the path… the whole darn thing… the rocky parts, the smooth parts, the path that seemed to be covered in Legos, the tree-lined parts, the part where the trees fell in the way, the process of clearing those trees and the open roads…
Until Next time,
Whitney
