Monday, June 24, 2013

It is Vacation Bible School time...


Vacation Bible School

By: Dr. Jeff Fuller

 

In a meeting a few weeks ago, I was listening to all of the plans for Vacation Bible School.  Several of our twenty one churches are conducting VBS in the next two months.  Different themes, different materials, but it is VBS time in Coosa County.  Here at Rockford, we will host Colossal Roller-coaster June 23-27. 

VBS is so much fun and watching the kids have fun, learn new things and make precious little mementos makes for an enjoyable week.  The bonus is when their eyes light up because some truth has taken root in their life and it causes them to think on a higher level-yes, I believe that is a true bonus.  Additionally, I get a kick out of the ones who travel from VBS to VBS and learn all of the Bible stories, the music and moves, and the recreational games.  These are the ones everyone wants to come to their Bible School.

I have always loved VBS!  When I was growing up, attending the classes and as an adult teaching, and now as a pastor-Bible School has always been a highlight of the summer activities for children.  And there are some interesting stories I can tell.

When I was in college, my home church worked a Mission Vacation Bible School in a church in our county.  The church was a small country church between the community of Lebanon and the Town of Collinsville.  It was a small church, with a great need for reaching children.  Ten or fifteen of the youth from our church went down in the country to help with the Bible School.

It was a learning experience.  Even though we submitted ourselves to a time of training, it was still a hands on experience.  We were prepared for something akin to the joint services we participated in at First Baptist, the classrooms with walls adored with art and posters detailing the areas of our study, and the elaborate refreshments which went along with the theme.

What we forgot was small church, small classes, and limited resources.  Joint worship entailed old songs none of us knew, classrooms meeting under tents or the great outdoors, and cookies and kool-aid for refreshments.  Not to mention recreation…

Recreation was a nature walk.  We took time to lead the kids along the dirt road, down to Will’s Creek and throw rocks in the creek, while talking about the great outdoors and the creator Father.  This worked fairly well until a couple of the kids decided one morning to jump in-clothes and all-to take a swim.  While retrieving the three boys who jumped into the creek, another one did a belly flop in the middle of the creek, sunk under the water, disappearing in the dark, cold water.

We thought he was going to re-emerge close to the banks, until a girl came along beside me and said, “Sir, J.R. know not how to swim.”

My friend next to me over heard the words and was pulling her shoes off and heading through the air toward the middle of the creek.  Within seconds she was hauling J.R. out of the water, up the bank and depositing him on the road.

J.R. was fine.  He was sputtering water, soaked to the skin and shivering from the fear of jumping into the ten foot deep water, with no way of knowing how to get out.

We reassembled the kiddies, started back toward the little country church and laughed and picked at J.R. as he sloshed along, his tennis shoes making weird sounds with each step.  The laughter stopped, the joy flushed and the next few moments was a blur of activity.

This little church had a rather larger than life matriarch.  She was the mother of twelve children and twenty three grand-children.  We did not meet the children, but the grand’s we did-they made up half of the attendance that week in our Bible School.  Momma carried a hickory switch everywhere she went that week, and we were soon to find out why.

She was standing at the door of the church, one hand on one hip and the other one with the switch bobbing back and forth.  The look on her face was a mixture between Mr. T. and Medea. 

When we all made eye contact, the procession stopped, there were whimpers among a couple of the children (evidently they were grandchildren of T-Medea, and J.R. attempted to hide behind the nearest oak tree.

The voice of the T-Medea boomed, startling the Robins in the tree: “J.R. you come here now and not later!  Now, boy, come here and don’t delay.  The righteous and holy God is in the Temple and justice is to be served from His table.”

I so wanted the ground to open up at that moment.  My friend grabbed my hand and broke three fingers, as she attempted to calm her beating heart that was felt in my hand.

J.R. stumbled forward, and stammered, “Momma…I fell…fell in and that nice girl over there hoped me…she hoped me out of the…out of the water.  Oh. Momma,” he cried and it was the sound of a wounded animal, “I swear…I fell in when…when Boyd pushed me in…Boyd, you know Boyd…he pushed!

“Now, Boyd, boy you come, now!”

Boyd ran from the Sweet Gum tree he was hiding behind and ran to his Grandmother’s side.  He beat J.R. who was still stumbling along in the direction, but not at all in a hurry.

“I just fell in…” J.R. was trying to explain, but T-Medea with that look and that switch cut him off…

“Boy, I ain’t got all day, get your thing over here, now!”

J.R. at that moment burst into a trot and joined grandmother and Boyd on the steps of the church.  The next few moments are vividly etched in my mind for all of eternity.  The woman commanded, “Reach down and do it now!  Grab those ankles and I’ll tell you when you might stand straight again, if you can.

She swung the switch and hit the south end of the north facing youngsters with one swipe.  With each one she counted and admonished.

“That’s one.  For the good book say we all are sinners…”

“That there is two.  God say that when a boy don’t obey, you tear his hind end up…”

“That’s three.  Yes, sir, we are to be righteous as He is righteous…”

“That one’s four.  If I spare this here rod, I spoil this here child…”

“That make’s five.  It will be unto your good will, Father, that these here children will obey with stripes upon their skin…”

She stopped swinging that switch, she straighten her rather large frame, and took a deep breathe.  The boys continued to hold their ankles, as tears fell from their cheeks.  No one moved for a moment.

Then T-Medea said, “Arise you workers of evil and give praise to a Holy and just God who will not leave you to your own devices, but will spare you, as if by fire.”

They stood straight up, raised their hands in the air and mumbled something, I am not sure what, but there was a word of “Thanks, but no thanks,” somewhere in between clinched teeth and tears rolling down dirty cheeks.

Then T-Medea looked at me and my co-teacher, and pointed the switch at us.  At that very moment I begged God to open the ground on which I stood and make me disappear.  But He did not do it and she spoke firmly…

“Should you’uns have any more problems with any of these children-mine or otherwise-you let me know and I will kindly take good care of the problem.  Now git!”

We went back to class.  The reminder of the week present itself with no problems, none whatsoever.  Even the teenagers who were working from my church; we all were as good as angels.

The Bible says, “The one who will not use the rod hates his son, but the one who loves him disciplines him diligently.” (Proverbs 13:24 HCSB)  Discipline reflects love.  We do not like being disciplined, nor do we care to discipline, but we know that when it is done in love, it will be for the good of the individuals involved.  And oh, the love God has for His children that He would correct us and conform us to His imagine.

Until next time…

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