I memorized the Bible verse as a youngster, probably no older than six or seven.  “I was glad when they said unto me, ‘Let us go unto the house of the Lord.'”  The verse was a Psalm, I believe, so the “house of the Lord” referred to the temple.  Not surprisingly, my 20th century Protestant Christians interpreted “house of the Lord” as the church house, or meeting house.  I’m not sure an Old Testament Jew would have appreciated the difference, but it made sense to us.  And going to church is just something I’ve always done, beginning about nine months before I was born (I don’t remember those early daze!).

IMG_2027So what’s different from the “house of the Lord” comparing the church of my youth to my church today?  Today, going to church is much different from going to the country church of my youth.  The music is radically different, and our church in Huntsville doesn’t bear a denominational label.  Nor does our local congregation meet in a “church house.”  Instead, we meet in a leased ball room on a university campus.

Nonetheless, it’s church.  Good church!  And if attending church is a lifelong habit stemming from youthful training and parental indoctrination, it’s a good habit, one of which my late Daddy would wholeheartedly approve (even though he may not approve our modern worship style!).  But most important for us at church these days is the happiness that comes from attending with three generations of family, as we recognize in the photo showing our family “gang” relaxing on the carpet in the back of the ballroom before “church” last Sunday.  Of that faithfulness from generation to generation to generation, I’m confident Daddy would be proud.