On a short lane with the grandiose name, Park Avenue, stands the Mount Pleasant United Methodist Church of Greensboro and Marydel. How long this church has been there I do not know. It appears to be an older structure. The white paint is chipped and faded. The once brightly painted red front doors are also fading. This once proud edifice of faith now sits forlorn with a" for sale" sign out front. It put a sad feeling in my heart. Somehow seeing any church for sale seems wrong. How can you put a price on God's house ? I know it is ultimately just a building, a piece of real estate and has monetary value like any other. I am aware of the business side of religion. There are bills to be paid. I can only assume the funds are no longer there to support this structure.
Where are the congregants ? Where are the faithful that once called this structure home ? What of those that were married there, baptised there and prayed there ? What of those that sought solace and healing ? Have they all gone to glory and their heirs abandoned this refuge ? I would think tradition would demand their continued attendance and support. And therein lies the real sadness. The thought that the place that hosted so many memories and special moments could be forgotten brings that sadness. No, I must rephrase that to say, melancholy. That is a more apt description of my feelings.
The church sits in a melancholy state awaiting it's fate. Has this building fulfilled its' function and purpose ? Will it continue as a house of worship or be torn down and replaced ? Perhaps it will be transformed into something else and perform another useful purpose.
I have heard that a church is only as strong as its' pastor. The shepherd that leads the flock is responsible for the health of that flock. I can only imagine how the last pastor of a church must feel. Does he blame himself ? How must it feel to conduct the final service ? Surely that would leave a lasting impression upon someone. I can feel his sorrow as well. Having no experience or training in the field of pastor, or religious leader of any kind, I wonder how does one attract a congregation ? What do you do ? There is only one consolation, and that is your faith. All things end. Perhaps it is just time. Time to close the doors, as this church has been filled to capacity. All the happiness, all the sorrow and all the healing having been done. Perhaps, it is just a new beginning.
Where are the congregants ? Where are the faithful that once called this structure home ? What of those that were married there, baptised there and prayed there ? What of those that sought solace and healing ? Have they all gone to glory and their heirs abandoned this refuge ? I would think tradition would demand their continued attendance and support. And therein lies the real sadness. The thought that the place that hosted so many memories and special moments could be forgotten brings that sadness. No, I must rephrase that to say, melancholy. That is a more apt description of my feelings.
The church sits in a melancholy state awaiting it's fate. Has this building fulfilled its' function and purpose ? Will it continue as a house of worship or be torn down and replaced ? Perhaps it will be transformed into something else and perform another useful purpose.
I have heard that a church is only as strong as its' pastor. The shepherd that leads the flock is responsible for the health of that flock. I can only imagine how the last pastor of a church must feel. Does he blame himself ? How must it feel to conduct the final service ? Surely that would leave a lasting impression upon someone. I can feel his sorrow as well. Having no experience or training in the field of pastor, or religious leader of any kind, I wonder how does one attract a congregation ? What do you do ? There is only one consolation, and that is your faith. All things end. Perhaps it is just time. Time to close the doors, as this church has been filled to capacity. All the happiness, all the sorrow and all the healing having been done. Perhaps, it is just a new beginning.
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