The above image is the original build of the Peach Tree Church.
During most of the years that we lived on the Old Farm, we attended church at Peach Tree Fork; that is we children did. Pa pastored many different churches during those years. At one time he pastured the Methodist Church of Des Arc and at another time the Baptist Church of Des Arc, at the request of the memberships, although he was neither Methodist or Baptist. Needless to say, Pa carefully avoided any doctrinal controversy, successfully sticking to topics upon which all Evangelical Christians could agree.
Every other year Pa pastured the Peach Tree Church which was a Christian congregation at that time meeting in the School house. (At present it is General Baptist congregation with a nice church building.)
Brother Noble Cunningham pastored at Peach Tree every other year, alternating with Pa by the year for some years. Most churches had a preacher only once a month preachers being in short supply because churches were in abundant supply. One preacher usually alternated between four churches conducting Saturday night, Sunday morning and Sunday night services. But each church had at least one or more outstanding laymen who were able to carry on in the absence of the pastor. Much of the time when the preacher was not there the service consisted only of Sunday School. But those were well attended and spirited Sunday Schools.
Church-going was a much more popular activity at that time than it is today. Where else could a young man go to eye the girls fixed up in their Sunday best? And where else would a girl be so likely to catch a beau? Church buildings of my acquaintance were of wood. Except for the Christian Church of Piedmont. As far back as I can remember this has been a brick church. Throughout the country, church buildings were small, there being a church in just about every community, owing to modes of travel. They were usually in need of paint. A painter had to be paid a dollar and fifty cents a day, plus board while on the job. Any member would willingly board a man; food was no consideration. Practically everyone had plenty of food such as it was. But raising- the dollar and fifty cents a day often presented a problem. The architecture of our country churches was very plain. Seats were homemade of wide board, unpadded and uncurved, other furnishings few and simple. But most of the churches of those days were furnished with something I have not seen displayed for a long time-the Ten Commandments posted in a prominent place up front. Custom also dictated -another noticeable difference; women sat on one side of the house and men on the other as a rule. The “amen” was occupied by the church fathers older men who bubbled up with a fervent “amen” rather often as the sermon progressed.
In good weather we children always walked to church on Sunday mornings. It was only three miles from our place to Peach Tree over the high ridge through a gap between mountains. Stella had outgrown us at this time. Leander, son of Uncle Dave Henson, would bring an extra horse all the way over the ridge from Peach Tree Fork, where he lived to escort Stella back to Peach Tree to church. Of course, this was an unmistakable sign of serious courtship, and just as we expected, it did culminate in marriage. But Virgie was still unattached and she, with her girlfriend, Hester Wilson, usually walked with us. We had good times on those walks. Just this side of the ridge, we would be joined by our playmates. Ed and Ralph Newlan, and some times their older brother, Alvin. At times, others along the way swelled the procession. Needless to say, in summer we arrived at church hot and sweaty, and we had very dusty shoes, but this was thought nothing of. Most people had dusty shoes in those days of dirt roads, and sweat-wilted shirts were of necessity the accepted thing on a hot day. That people would one day “beat the heat” with electric fans and air conditioning had never occurred to us. As far as our knowledge extended such a possibility was not even in the dream stage.
Brother Cunningham was I pastoring at the time of the incident referred to in the chapter title. Brother Cunningham stood high in my favor as a preacher. I had reached the age when I no longer thought Pa to be the smartest man in the world. In fact, I sometimes compared him rather unfavorably with Brother Cunningham. Brother Cunningham could preach Circles around Pa’! He could talk faster than any man I ever saw, and never slurred a word. His words rolled out effortlessly and hit the mark with precision. I did not see how he could think fast enough to keep it rolling out the way he did. I found him utterly fascinating. Being full blooded Irish it might be some of his ancestors had kissed the blarney stone and transmitted its magic to him; but what he said in the pulpit was not blarney. Red hair and mustache lent him a certain distinction and he had enough height and weight to command respect.
Along the road on the Peach Tree side of the ridge, lived a man- by the name of Frank. Not a bad man, as bad men go, he did hit the bottle occasionally, especially when he went to town on Saturday afternoons.
He had a nice family, and he was, a quiet man himself, except for when he had been drinking. At those times he turned into a clown, and he liked nothing better than to perform for the young people.
One Saturday night when Brother Cunningham came to preach, Frank presented himself at church in a slightly inebriated condition. Before the service began he hung around outside, with the big boys and some of the more forward girls, even though he was a middle-aged man. During the first song they all came trouping in to occupy the back of the house. The seats had all been taken, so these latecomers had to stand, which, in itself, made for a very bad situation. But it happened frequently that way. As I said, country Churches, and school houses too (this was a school house), were often inadequate to accomodate the church attendance comfortably.
Soon after, Brother Cunningham began to preach we became aware of disturbances in the back of the house. Almost constant whispering and frequent eruption of suppressed laughter caused disapproving heads to turn. A few hard looks would settle it for a while, but not for long. Ripples of “giggling seemed to burst out spontaneously, in spite of the hard looks. And guess who was behind it all? Brother Cunningham focused some penetrating looks of his own to the area of disturbance, but he declined to break his train of thought to stop and rebuke the offenders. After the last song and the benediction, Brother- Cunningham made an announcement:
“Tomorrow I want every soul in this house-to come back, for I’m going to tell you of something that no man’ ever saw, the angels of heaven never saw, Jesus Christ never saw, and more than that, something that God never saw!”
You may be sure this intriguing announcement drew the attention of all. It gave us something to think about. Who would want to miss hearing this? The interest engendered was somewhat comparable to that felt by an avid, soap-opera, fan when the plot is left hanging at a tense place until the next installment. The next morning when our group arrived at the spring, not far from, the church Frank was there, dressed in his Sunday clothes. A neighbor who walked up about the time we did, said to Frank, “Are you going to church?” (We should note here that Frank was not ordinarily regular in church attendance.)
“Yes,” Frank replied. “I want to hear what that thing is that no man ever saw, and even God never did see.”
Apparently, Frank was not the only one who wanted to hear that. The house fairly bulged with people. Frank hung around outside with a rowdy or two during the, Sunday School, but he came in (now a more sober Frank) for the preaching service. Brother Cunningham, preached his usual powerful sermon, making no reference, whatever ”to, the subject of his announcement. He ended the sermon, called for the closing song, and gave the benediction. By this time a let-down feeling was settling heavily upon the congregation. Some might have been wondering, if; he had used that announcement as a gimmick to draw the sinners in so he could expound, to them a better way of life. Some might even have felt that they had been tricked. Perhaps it was just Brother Cunningham’s style to do it this way. but just as ‘people were reluctantly truning to leave, disappointment written on every face, he suddenly seemed to remember. His urgent voice beckoned them back and the air seem to bristle with electrons, all the more because’ of the let-down.
“”I almost forgot,” He said pausing a few seconds to allow for an even greater build-up. “I said last night I’d tell you something today, didn’t I?
Something that no man ever saw I the angels of heaven never saw, Jesus Christ never saw, and God never saw. Well folks, here it is: No man ever saw, the angels of heaven never saw, Jesus Christ never saw, and God himself never saw (an impressive pause) a gentleman or a lady who would misbehave in church!”
Every eye turned on Frank and I think you could have lit a match on his face I expect there were some other red faces also, but Frank stood out like a giraffe in a bed of rose-moss. I expect he fervently wished that proverbial knot-hole would open for him! As we were walking along behind Frank and another man on the way home we heard him say: “Doggone that preacher! I would rather he had taken me out and given me a good beating than to have gotten that off on me!”
Brother Cunningham’s ‘method proved effective. To my knowledge, Frank never again came to church when under the “influence.” And there was a noticeable improvement in the behaviour of the young people.
I never forgot this. While I cannot say I always behaved as I should (I was not noted for halos!), if I started getting too far out of 1ine. I would remember “the thing that God never saw, and settle myself.
Brother Cunningham had no degrees. Neither did Pa, or any of those faithful men as far as I know, who shepherded” the numerous small flocks of Wayne County at that time. It is doubtful if Brother Cunningham ever read a book on psychology, but he knew how to use it. Society had not progressed beyond the point of self-made” men in those times: Conditions seemed more favorable then for the development of rugged character.
From necessity people had to depend upon their own resources; they learned to cope; they expected to contribute. They’ educated themselves as best they could with their limited opportunities. They were far from perfect; they were subject to “human frailties; but they were willing, to give of their best, however humble. As I reflect upon those simple folk of yester year lines from Thomas Gray’s Elegy Written in a Country Church Yard come to mind:
Far from the madding crowd’s
ignoble strife,
Their sober wishes never
learned to stray;
Along the cool sequester’d vale
of life
They kept the noiseless tenor
of their way.