Thursday, February 18, 2010

Going to Church

Gumpy was a religous guy.  He had a strong belief in God and right up to the day of his death, his belief remained steadfast.  Ema told us about him commenting that he knew his mom, dad, sister and brother were waiting for him in heaven.  He was a believer who concentrated on living his life correctly, rather than meddling in the faith of others.  Sunday morning services were pretty important to him and some of my habits in church came from watching him.

Four generations of Hallenbeck's (Ema's side of the family) have been married at the Vermontville Untied Methodist Church with various degrees of success.  While my sister and I are the last of our line to be raised in the church, the imprint of our lives in the church will have an indelable effect on our family for at least a few more generations to come.  At this church, until Ema and Gumpy retired, Sunday morning services often brought us together despite Gumpy's horrific singing.

He loved sitting in the second pew from the front, sitting on the south side of the santuary.  Ema would play the organ or piano for most services, so it allowed them to sit somewhat close during the sermon.  More importantly, the minister had a clear view of the old boy so he or she could see him clearly when he tapped his watch.  Tapping his watch was his signal for the minister that their sermon had gone just a little too long.  I know each minister was privy to Gumpy's firmly held belief that no church service should ever go over an hour and fifteen minutes.

One fortunate consequence of his insistance on sitting toward the front of the church was that most people were not subjected to his singing.  I'm sure if the hymns had a bit more of a Bluegrass bent, his ability to sing them might have improved.  He hit notes and maintained tempos in a way I have only experienced listening to Bluegrass with him.  

I think his insistence on the service length was fueled by his desire to get to coffee hour.  Gumpy was a social creature and you can't talk much during a small-town Mid-Michigan United Methodist Church sermon.  This meant that he had not been able to socialize for over an hour, nor drink coffee.  And he really loved the people in that church.  Many of his good friends in town went to church there, so he enjoyed chatting for at least 45 minutes after the service.  If you needed to find Gumpy, you just had to poke your head into the kitchen where he and his friends were holding court.

Another thing I will never forget is that Gumpy always dressed up for chruch.  He worked hard throughout the week on the farm, at the railroad or for the Union.  He looked forward to dressing up a bit each Sunday.  Rarely would you find him in anything other than a suit.  Gumpy became pretty comfortable in suits, which you could tell by the little extra bounce he had in his step when he wore one.  Even in retirement, you would find him in his nicest polo shirt and golf shorts.  Nothing but his best clothes would do on Sundays.

2 comments:

  1. David - This is awesome, however, you left out the part where Dad would bounce his knee during church. It would nearly knock us off the pew as the bouncing grew more intense with each bounce. If Mom was sitting with us, she would touch his knee and he would stop for a few seconds - just long enough for the rest of us to get a good grip on the pew in front of us - then he'd start again! He was also the one who had that enormous clock installed at over the door of the church so the preacher could see what time it was gettin' to be.

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  2. David - Once in awhile, Daddy would have a little nap during the sermon. It was not his fault that the sermon was not capturing his full attention. But woe to the person who woke him up - he'd exclaim out loud "What did ya do that for", "Darn it Dot, I was not sleeping", etc. Grandpa Hallenbeck had shown those same tendencies too.

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