God warped my Sunday schedule a little bit -- missed my Sunday afternoon nap, canceled Bible study with the high schoolers, and skipped church at Sevier Heights... so I could attend service at a small church in Elk Valley, TN.
This small, rural valley about an hour north of Knoxville is the location of our high schoolers' recent mission trip. New Canaan church is a small, one room, white church building with a bell that the pastor rings to let the community know it's time to gather in the Lord's house and worship together. The congregation consisted of maybe thirty people. The pastor played the piano, his son the electric guitar, while the choir stood at the front on-stage and led the members and visitors in numbered hymns from books kept in the backs of the pews.
The altar stood front and center of the aisle, prepared for elbows, fists, and tears.
I listened to "amen's" and grunts of agreement, watched hands raised, and an older gentleman stand and clap solo.
The worship was so moving and the congregation continued to throw out requests to be played. We sang for an hour and a half, led by the Spirit, and the preacher didn't even give a sermon.
It was wonderful to participate in a service that flowed so freely, without structure or bounds. And the simple, country way worship was led in this austere sanctuary took me back to a small church in Finger, TN where I was saved, and reminded me of the excitement, depth, and meaning of my first love.
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