Abandoned churches and the lessons they leave: Part 1 Simplicity
One of the most popular areas in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park is a little valley called Caves Cove. It is a beautiful place where both the landscape and the wildlife combine to create a spectacular show that is ever-changing with the weather and the seasons. What draws so many visitors to this place is not only the natural beauty but also the homes and churches that the former residents of this valley built. The government purchased all the private property for the national park beginning in the late 1920s. The last resident left on Christmas day, 1937. The Primitive Baptist Church, in defiance of the Park Service, continued to meet in its building until the 1960s. The structures that remain in the valley today are representative of the pioneer life of early Appalachia.
Several years ago, my family and I spent some time in Cades Cove. I was most fascinated by the three church buildings that remain in the valley. (Read my introduction for more about these buildings.) As I walked through the three church buildings, imagining the ministries they once housed, the people who once sat in the pews, and the pastors who preached in the pulpits, I was struck by what these now-silent buildings could say to present congregations. As I explored the buildings and pondered what they once were and have become, three ideas came to mind: simplicity, legacy, and ministry. Today I want to consider what these testimonies to the past can teach us today about simplicity.
All three church buildings remain today, very close to how they stood on the day they were constructed. To put it plainly, they are simple - simple in architecture, simple in function, and simple in amenities. Unlike our modern requirements of comfortable seating, temperature-controlled rooms, stage lighting, sound amplification, image projection, choirs and instrumentalist, and ample restroom facilities, these buildings have no such accommodations. For furniture, they boast only pews and a pulpit. For light, only the windows. For temperature control, only the breeze. In our modern context of programs and ministries for every age group and demographic, these structures seem exceedingly inadequate with only one room.
As I walked through each church building, nostalgic thoughts emerged as I imagined what it would be like to pastor such a church. Gone would be the requirements of so much that I do. Gone would be the demands of being so much to so many. The pastors who occupied these pulpits never spent an afternoon creating sermon title slides in photoshop or introduction videos in final cut pro. The pastors who proclaimed the gospel within these structures never created a slide deck for projecting their sermon points on a large screen behind them on the wall or had to upload their notes to their church iPhone app. Though these men likely dripped with sweat in their wool suits on summer Sunday mornings, they never had to deal with finding a balance between the little old lady who is always cold and thinks the best time to complain about the air conditioning setting is right before the service starts and the choir members who are always hot and cannot understand why the pastor will not turn the thermostat setting down. The pastors who labored among these congregations never dealt with sound system issues, backed-up toilets in the nursery, the broadcast Livestream not connecting, smoke machines overproducing, stage lights moving and changing colors uncontrollably, or the song lyric projection computer crashing in the middle of a congregation hymn. As I imagined the work of the preachers who labored in these buildings, I first thought a lot about all the issues that were not part of their experience. But soon, this gave way to an appreciation for what did demand their attention.
These buildings were constructed with one purpose in mind – preaching. Preaching is a relatively simple activity. It is singular in focus and defined in its goal. The very structure of these buildings gives testimony to the singular focus and defined goals of their congregations. The proclamation of the word of God was their aim. There is something refreshing about such simplicity. For those who worshiped in these structures, church meetings were a time to hear the word proclaimed. They certainly sang hymns together. They prayed together and for one another. However, the primary focus and the defining element of their gatherings was preaching. The architecture of these buildings gives witness to this singular focus. The buildings were built to provide a place for preaching. The furniture is arranged to facilitate preaching. These congregations certainly participated in other activities associated with their ministries, but the testimony of the buildings is that their primary activity was preaching God’s word.
The problem with nostalgic thoughts is they are but sentimental imaginations, not necessarily accurate recollections. These places of worship are simplistic, yes – but perfect, no. There is value in simplicity, yet there is also foolishness in holding to the past out of nostalgia alone. I am thankful that my church in South Georgia, where humidity, heat, and gnats create a summer environment that can wilt a rock, has air-conditioned buildings. With the blessing of air-conditioning comes related aggravations, but these are considered small compared to the unpleasantness of enduring south Georgia’s oppressive heat and humidity. I have worshiped with congregations that still hold to the traditions that these churches in the cove would have known. When these congregations sing, the song leader reads from the only songbook in the church, teaching the lyrics of each song line-by-line to the congregation. They lead the church by the sheer volume and force of their voice. Yet I am thankful that my church enjoys the blessings of video projection, sound systems, and the affordable availability of printed music. Modernity has changed how we live and what demands our time. As a result, the church has been able to do more than just hold preaching services. Today, the church can accommodate and provide a host of ministries and activities beyond the preaching ministry. Many of these ministries are good and support well the preaching ministry of the church. Yet the lesson and value of these simple church buildings and the simplicity of their ministries remain. The church may do more than have preaching services, but the church can never do less than preach the gospel of Jesus Christ. For all the goodness and blessings that flow from the many things that churches do beyond preaching, if these things overshadow or overcome the primary work of the church’s preaching ministry, the congregation ceases to be a church.
For “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” How then will they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching? And how are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written, “How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news!” But they have not all obeyed the gospel. For Isaiah says, “Lord, who has believed what he has heard from us?” So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ. (Romans 10:13–17, ESV)
These structures of simplicity, whether out of intention or necessity, resulting from reasons of theology or practicality, do have a helpful commentary for our present day. From the day of Pentecost to the present, the church has had but one task to make Christ known among the nations. From Peter’s first sermon on the day of Pentecost to the present, faithful preachers have but a singular message that Jesus has resurrected from the grave and is Lord of all. The residents of Cades Cove in the 1800s would not have much in common with us today. They would not understand a world that was not dependent on agriculture. Everything connected to the digital world we inhabit would be unimaginable to them. But where we would find common ground and fellowship would be the gospel of Jesus Christ. For every church in every generation, this must be where we find common ground and fellowship. Technology and world events will separate us from generations to come but what remains is the gospel of Jesus Christ. Until Jesus returns, we must not be confused about our singular purpose and simple goal: to proclaim that Jesus died for our sins, has risen from the grave, and that salvation is found only in Jesus. No matter the era, the technology, the form, the method, or the tool, our singular purpose is to proclaim Christ. This meant a pastor standing behind a simple wooden pulpit for those who built the churches of Cades Cove. Today the method may be vastly different, but the simplicity and the power of preaching remain. Faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ (Romans 10:17).