Skip to main content

Cowboy Church

The horseshoe of seats in the auditorium was already three-quarters filled and humming with anticipation. As we slid into vacant chairs, the band struck up a spirited rendition of "Amazing Grace". To the tune of "Ghost Riders in the Sky". Yippee-ai-ay!



The last guitar chords settled into silence. The guitarist, a man with a stiff grey moustache, said, "Let us pray." There was an instant flurry of movement as dozens of cowboy hats were removed and held respectfully in laps. Once the prayer was over they were resumed, although a few were later used as collection baskets for the offering.

After a few more country 'n' worship songs, the preacher stood up to speak. For 22 years, he said, the Shepherds Valley Church had been praying that there would be a Christian service at the Fort Worth Stock Show, yet the organisers had been against it. All that time they had been making friends, cultivating connections, and finally somebody recommended that, since all the other stock shows had a church service, perhaps Fort Worth should too. 22 years of prayer and work had paid off; yet the church still wasn't insensitively triumphalistic. Instead, they bought 200 rodeo tickets to support the event. I was reminded of Jesus' parable of the shrewd servant in Luke 16, and his comment: "Make friends for yourselves by means of unrighteous mammon..."

In his late 50's, with a weatherbeaten face and well-worn cowboy boots, the preacher went on to speak about attitude. It's easy to have a good attitude when things are ticking along as usual, he said. When you suddenly face unexpected prosperity or unmerited persecution, that's when your attitude really gets tested. And attitude, over time, adds up to disposition. Have you ever had an animal who just had a bad disposition, he asked. About half of the audience raised their hands.

Finally, the pastor led the congregation in a prayer to receive Jesus as Saviour, should anyone have not done so already. The blue-jeaned band rematerialised to sing a final song about finding God in the open prairie and the face of baby calves. And we wandered out into the bright farmyard-smelling sunlight with the faint strains of "yippee-ai-ayyy..." ringing in our ears.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

National Forest Way: The End!

The National Forest Way finishes at Beacon Hill, Leicestershire, with beautiful wide-ranging views in all directions. I'd been hoping for a sunny day, and this one certainly fit the bill. The frosty earth lay under a glorious canopy of shining blue sky. I parked at Swithland Wood, close to where we finished the previous walk. Finding the waymarker on the first gate was bittersweet - this was the last time I would be following these familiar circles.   Swithland Wood had been acquired by the Rotary Club in 1931, and later passed on to Bradgate Park Trust. The lumpy terrain was due to slate quarrying. I skirted a couple of fenced-off pits. As I left the wood, I passed a lake which I assumed was another flooded quarry, but with an odd little tower next to the water. I followed a road up a steady hill towards Woodhouse Eaves. Many of the houses were surrounded by walls of the local slate. Woodhouse Eaves was a prosperous-looking village with some nice old buildings. Crossing the wide ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Theme: Body

I didn't plan this to be a theme week, but Toby's new refrain has become, "I want to do something else " (how does he know it's the school holidays?)  Something else turned into my digging out my body-themed activities and roll of cheap wallpaper.  So here we go! First thing to do is draw a body, and fortunately I had a handy template.  Lie down, Toby! Just ignore the face.  And lack of neck.  I know it's not a great likeness, but he really is that tall.  How on earth did that happen? He knew pretty much all the body labels already, so I can't really claim it as a learning opportunity.  Still, revision is good, right?  And everyone enjoys colouring on a huge sheet of paper. Another sheet of wallpaper became a blank canvas for hand and foot painting.  Fortunately it's been great weather, as outside is always the best place to do this.  Even with a strategically placed tub of water for washing off in. I've gone gree...
1 comment
Read more

Trent Valley: A windy walk along a winding river

The air was on the move. Vast mounds of atmosphere were in a hurry to get somewhere else, pulling leaves off the willows, pushing water into waves, flicking flags into a flap as they rushed past. The sky was full of sunshine and the world was full of sound. It was a good day to be out. At Trent Lock the ground was scattered with conkers: glossy brown nuts and their spiky cases. Ahead, past the Erewash Canal, the land was once farmland; then it was dug for gravel. Now the gravel pits are flooded to create a network of lakes and have been designated as a nature reserve. Immediately after Trent Lock I was on another man-made section of water: the Cranfleet Canal. There was a memorial by the River Trent sign - Bob's Spot - with flower spinners which were whizzing around in the wind. A long railway viaduct crossed the canal and the river, and boats were moored alongside the towpath, hopefully with anything loose well tied down. The canal section ended at Cranfleet Lock. From here I cont...
Post a Comment
Read more