I returned to Blackheath and Charlton Baptist Church yesterday morning for a time of quiet remembrance of my beloved parents, Malcolm and Joyce, whose faith was so instrumental throughout my life.
Perhaps because Dad's passing was more recent than Mum's, I found seeing the organ profoundly poignant. Now consigned behind a wall, this instrument, on which my Dad created such beautiful music, is now a shadow of its former self. I know organ music isn't everyone's cup of tea, perhaps particularly now as worship styles have changed over the years, but this was his passion.
Dad was a self-taught organist having grown up playing the piano. The way he played with hands flying across the two keyboards, pulling and pushing the organ stops to change the sounds and, at the same time, his feet moving across the pedal board beneath his feet was something to behold. I usually liken it to being something similar to patting your head and rubbing your stomach, but way more musical! He was truly a gifted musician.
The memories of going to church with Dad and, rather than sitting with the rest of the congregation, I sat on the pew beside the organ seat and watched him play with such expertise and a true sense of joy that emanated from his whole being. As a floor had been put in during the 1970s at the level of the balcony this meant only the organ pipes were visible to the congregation - and I, and my Dad when he came to sit beside me during the sermon, were out of sight and this created a truly special space that we shared together. Precious memories indeed!
Sadly the organ began to deteriorate about 40 years ago as the cost for repairs and upkeep was unmanageable for the church. This means it hasn't been playable for quite sometime now, however, the church would be really appreciative if any of that which survives could be put to good use to maintain another organ elsewhere.
Having closed the door to the organ loft, I then took some time to sit in the sanctuary to remember some more. So many memories came to mind - I list just a few that resonated the strongest:
- Mum playing playing pen and paper games with me to keep me amused as a child. The marvellously named 'Blob game' being a particular favourite where we took turns to draw a blob and then turn it into something. I still remember her getting the giggles in the middle of a sermon on more than one occasion when she found something I'd drawn particularly amusing!
- My Grandma's funeral - remembering singing the old hymn 'Trust and obey' as this was a particular favourite of hers.
- Epic Nativity performances with the star of Bethlehem strung up by my uncles diagonally across the church so that the magi could actually follow a moving star down the side aisle.
- Girl's Brigade parades - where on a sunny day as an Explorer I could make my shadow have a completely round head!
- Youth services where we worshipped with folk from many of the different churches and fellowships - precious times of ministry and God at work in so many lives.
- My children's dedication services - such special times of promise and commitment.
- A memory that made me smile: my eldest, about the age of 5, was reading through the hymn book before the service and when I said the service was about to start, there was a quick glance up to check the pulpit to see if anyone was there and noticing the minister hadn't arrived up the front then came the reply: 'Nah, God's not here yet' and they turned back to the hymn book! I did tell the minister after the service that he'd apparently acquired a new status!
- And then, prior to yesterday, the last time I was at the church was for Mum's celebration of life service led by a gentleman who she had once taken by the hand to Sunday school as a child. The church then packed out with family and friends all remembering this wonderful woman of God who had worshipped there cradle to grave, a member for 72 years. A person for whom, this church, was a place she considered home. A place where, despite her final years being impacted by dementia, she was still able to worship, pray. quote scripture and be a part of the church family.
Such a mix of memories - some good, some painful, some funny - but all part of my history. And I was overwhelmed with a profound sense of thankfulness - gratitude to God for giving me this rich and deep legacy to carry with me as I continue journeying onwards with Him.