Zion Methodist Church II

ZION METHODIST CHURCH II

Living on a Kansas farm in the 1950’s was a quiet existence.  We had a few neighbors but our social life centered on a one room school house and an older wood-framed church.

The church we grew up in was Zion Methodist Church.  It was a small country church located at the intersection of two gravel roads a couple of miles north of our home place. 

The building wasn’t real fancy, but then it didn’t have to be for God to bless us.  On a Sunday morning we could expect anywhere from three to 20 in attendance depending on the weather and the point in the harvest season. 

It was heated in the winter with a wood stove and cooled by three open windows on the north side, three on the south side, and the double doors on the east end.  It wasn’t uncommon for an intruding wasp to infringe on our worship service and Sunday school. 

The pews were made of wood, a row down each side and a third row in the middle.  In the ‘50s I was young enough that when we sat in the pews my feet wouldn’t touch the floor.  I would occasionally feel a tap from Mom to get me to quit swinging my feet back and forth.

Our preacher was a fellow named Judd Jones; we shared him with the big Methodist church in town.  He came to Zion every other Sunday to deliver a sermon, conduct any rites such as baptism and communion.  After Dr. Jones concluded the worship service we had Sunday school.  Broken up into three or four groups by age, we all met in the same building.  It might have been somewhat noisy in there with three or four groups going at the same time but it worked.

The church hosted various events throughout the year.  Some were widely attended by the surrounding community whether they were members or not.  Along with our summer Bible School and Christmas Eve service was the annual bazaar.  This was a most memorable, much anticipated event where all kinds of donated items were auctioned off to raise funds for the church.  The Ladies Aid made quilts to be sold.  Some women made cakes or pies or cookies.  People came from miles around for this event.  People who attended other churches would show up, not necessarily for the bargains, but for the fellowship.   

One item that sold was a perennial favorite; it was an old fashioned bonnet, the kind worn by ladies in the old west.  It was light blue in color about like a robin’s egg with white polka dots.  This bonnet sold at least once at each bazaar and would return year after year to be auctioned off again.  The crowd would always applaud when the auctioneer brought the bonnet out, and roared with laughter when he demonstrated it by putting it on his head.  

Zion Methodist Church is no more.  Like many other country churches the congregation dwindled through the deaths of the more senior members and the moving of the younger generations.  Gone is the congregation.  Gone is the bazaar.  Gone is Zion Methodist Church.  All have evaporated into the past never to return.  In the 1970’s the building was moved into town and is now the sanctuary of another congregation. 

God was with us at Zion.  Unlike the bonnet, He isn’t going to go away.  Unlike the congregation, He is not going to evaporate into the past.  By His grace, by His mercy He is with us.  He was with us in the past, He is with us today, and He will be with us tomorrow.  Let us remember and give thanks for the many ways He has blessed each of our lives.