Just about one year ago I wrote a blog about a particular church. This church was The Cow Marsh Primitive Baptist Church, also known as The Church at Mount Moriah. A very old wooden structure that sat back off the highway, unused and at first I thought, uncared for. This has turned out to not be the case. The church has been painted and some care taken to preserve it. I still don't believe any services are being held there however.
Shortly after writing that post I was informed that a painting had been done of that very building. A local artist had seen it and was also drawn to it. As it turned out this artist, by sheer coincidence, met the president of the Greensboro historical society at another location. A conversation was started and this church was mentioned. This artist then graciously offered the painting to the historical society. I am a member of that society. Last evening I met the artist and the painting. The artist, Mr. Rich Bazelow, captured the same feeling in his painting as I in my writing. It was an honor to meet him. I understand a little better now the inspiration of an artist. He painted what I was thinking. Although, to be accurate the painting was done first. No matter, artist and writer met in that place. The place is timeless in and of itself. We all think in the present but that doesn't make it so. Time is relative and perhaps space is too.
Somehow I get a sense that a circle has been closed. What the purpose of this was I have no idea. I was just an instrument in its' completion. Mr. Bazelow was a part of this. The people that had the church painted and cared for are part of it. This church is on the national register of historic places so its' future I hope is assured.
Those that are interred in the graves behind this church are its' guardians. Perhaps it is there faith alone that has kept this place alive. At first I saw the church standing there and I thought it was forlorn. I know see it as waiting. It just stands there waiting for the return of the faithful. Perhaps the faithful visit singularly now and can only look through the windows. In so doing however they can look back at time. A time when this proud edifice hosted the faithful. The doors are closed but the invitation is open. The " Primitives " would be pleased I am sure. In this context the word primitive means original, or the first. They believed their church was a direct line to Jesus and the church he spoke of. They did not want to be called Protestants or Catholics. Theirs' was a simple faith unencumbered by ritual and much formality. Some would say they were rigid in their beliefs. Well, shouldn't you be ?
Shortly after writing that post I was informed that a painting had been done of that very building. A local artist had seen it and was also drawn to it. As it turned out this artist, by sheer coincidence, met the president of the Greensboro historical society at another location. A conversation was started and this church was mentioned. This artist then graciously offered the painting to the historical society. I am a member of that society. Last evening I met the artist and the painting. The artist, Mr. Rich Bazelow, captured the same feeling in his painting as I in my writing. It was an honor to meet him. I understand a little better now the inspiration of an artist. He painted what I was thinking. Although, to be accurate the painting was done first. No matter, artist and writer met in that place. The place is timeless in and of itself. We all think in the present but that doesn't make it so. Time is relative and perhaps space is too.
Somehow I get a sense that a circle has been closed. What the purpose of this was I have no idea. I was just an instrument in its' completion. Mr. Bazelow was a part of this. The people that had the church painted and cared for are part of it. This church is on the national register of historic places so its' future I hope is assured.
Those that are interred in the graves behind this church are its' guardians. Perhaps it is there faith alone that has kept this place alive. At first I saw the church standing there and I thought it was forlorn. I know see it as waiting. It just stands there waiting for the return of the faithful. Perhaps the faithful visit singularly now and can only look through the windows. In so doing however they can look back at time. A time when this proud edifice hosted the faithful. The doors are closed but the invitation is open. The " Primitives " would be pleased I am sure. In this context the word primitive means original, or the first. They believed their church was a direct line to Jesus and the church he spoke of. They did not want to be called Protestants or Catholics. Theirs' was a simple faith unencumbered by ritual and much formality. Some would say they were rigid in their beliefs. Well, shouldn't you be ?
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| Mr. Rich Bazelow |
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