Twenty-Three, Becoming Churched

Twenty-Three

Becoming Churched

26 May 1824

Reverend Terry and his good wife stopped by today, I suppose, to capture two or more people for his congregation. The Methodists and the Hard Shell Baptists are both hoping to gain new members, I'm told, but only the Terrys have made any effort toward our little family. As between those two factions, I prefer the former I suppose.

I earlier gave my reasons for being a little inclined toward Methodism, one of them being their love of books.   Rev. Terry offered a little of proof of that by telling us that he had a little library, and that he had brought Nan and I a book to read.  It was "The Pilgrim's Progress" by Paul Bunyun. 

I have heard of this book, but thought it to be antiquated and full of references to the Bible which did not appeal to me, for I have not studied it, my education being fully secular.  But we thanked them for their kindness and graciously accepted it.

Rev. Terry then cleared his throat and prepared himself to talk to Nan and I "a matter of grave importance".  He said that as Nan and I had attended the last two meetings on probation, it was time now to be accepted into the class, or to go about our own ways to salvation.  He said that it was his duty to examine each of our hearts and minds and souls for the worthiness of being accepted.

 Nan was quite prepared for this, having paid close attention to all the goings on at the last two meetings.  She agreed to meet with the Reverend first, this being in the parlor.  The remainder of us, Mother, Patsy, Mrs. Terry and myself, excused ourselves to sit in the other downstairs room in the house, where the eating table and large hearth are.  As we drank tea, judge and penitent engaged in some mysterious dialogue.  Soon, however, they emerged and it was now my turn.

Unlike my sister, I was a bit unprepared for this, and a bit mystified as to the process.  I was entirely unsure that I wanted to subject myself to it.  But I allowed myself to be taken in to the parlour to see what should transpire.

I first spoke to Reverend Terry of my hesitations and doubt.  I explained that I had only seen the inside of a church or holy gathering, save the last two weeks, at funerals, weddings, christenings, and an Easter or two.  I fully expected that he would excuse himself, and go about his business saving those who were more eager.

But his answer surprised me.  He thanked me very much first for my honesty, and said that preaching and teaching was for the very purpose of converting over the doubters and the recalcitrant to the Lord.  He said that he was certain that hell was quite full of people who claimed to be solid congregants, but whom took the process a bit less seriously.

Reverend Terry told me that it was his privilege and duty to explain what it takes to find the Lord, and then to let the Lord do the rest.

He asked me if I thought my heart was good, and my mind ready to undertake such a task.  I had to sit awhile and ponder my answer.  I thought of being happy the past two weeks to attend the meetings, sing the hymns, and, of course, eat the food.  I thought further that I much enjoyed the company of the people who were there.  And here I permitted myself to admit, to my surprise, that  I very much enjoyed the presence of Mr. DuBois.

I answered that I had thought it over, and that perhaps my intentions were not the best, and that perhaps my heart was not very good. He asked me why these two things were true, and as to the first, I was very honest and told him essentially the thoughts in my head, although I may have been a bit more judicious in what I said aloud.

As to the second, I admitted that I am stubborn, that I enjoyed reading secular books that I would not likely give up, and that I had been--and here I had to tread carefully--harboring some hate in my heart to others.  He asked to whom, and I told him my father.  He thought for a while, and asked if I could say why.

I told Reverend Terry a little about my parents' divorce.  I thought perhaps this would mean that Nan's chances of being accepted would be much diminished at the very mention of divorce.  But Rev. Terry stated that the matter was not my fault, and that divorce was no bar to anyone so long as their heart, mind, and soul were willing.

As to the first reason, he chuckled a bit and asked if the books that I liked to read were of a baudy nature, and I responded that no, that I liked books such as what Jane Austen had written not too long ago, and I asked if he were familiar with them, to which he opined that his wife was quite fond of them, and that he understood the social commentary to be quite insightful.

He said that eating the food was almost a requirement for Methodists, as was singing the hymns.  But when he came to speaking of Mr. DuBois, he adopted a very stern look and was silent for a moment.  And then, seeing my anxious face, he broke into laughter.  He told me that Mr. DuBois was of the highest character, that never a finer fellow had he met except, perhaps, the Bishop, and wanting to get to know him better was a wonderful reason to come to his house, but that during the meeting, I had to promise to direct my thoughts heaven-ward.

I then worried that Reverend Terry would tell Mr. DuBois of my thoughts, but he assured me greatly that he would not.

Whereupon, all my objections and concerns had been met, and Reverend Terry agreed to admit both my sister and me into the company of the group this evening.  He reminded me that each week I would undergo a shortened version of the interview, but that if I were honest each week and sought to be penitent, I should be just fine.

And this is how, I suppose, that I began being churched in the Methodist ways of doing things.