La Place UMC, February 4, 1979

EXODUS – Chapter Three:

“2.  And the Angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush:  and he looked, and, behold, the bush burned with fire, and the bush was not consumed.

3.  And Moses said, I will now turn aside, and see this great sight, why the bush is not burnt.

4.  And when the Lord saw that he turned aside to see, God called unto him out of the midst of the bush, and said, Moses, Moses.  And he said, Here am I.

5.  And he said, Draw not nigh hither:  put off thy shoes from off they feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground.”

In 1934, Miss Mary Debardeleben prepared a brief history of LaPlace Methodist Church on the occasion of its 100th Anniversary.  The following are excerpts from her narrative:

“West’s History of Alabama Methodism has this to say about the beginning of Methodism in this community:

“Tradition says that the Rev. John Boswell (1789-1853), he then being presiding Elder of the Chattahoochee District, organized a (Methodist) Society in 1834 in the house of James Howard (1776-1856) at Cross Keys (now Shorter) about 16 miles west of Tuskegee, and that a log house was built soon after the organization of that society for a place of worship.

“As regards the building of the present house of worship, Mrs. Judkins of our community thinks it was done in 1859, for as a girl attending the old school at LaPlace, on its site on the hill yonder opposite the church – she remembered the boys getting putty from the workmen here and bringing it in mischief to the girls at the school as chewing gum.

“The Church was formerly known as Payne Chapel in honor of Bishop Payne.

“The late Dr. J. S. Lightfoot and I were trying to recall how the Church looked before it was remodeled years ago:  (1904 – 1905 D.S.).  There was a white fence around it with fancy-cut palings; two gates, two doors, and two distinct divisions inside.  For male and female created he them and there must be no undue freedom of the sexes in those days.  Of course, this did not prevent your best boyfriend from making a race for it and sitting just across the partition from you.

“…Another event that took place during Brother Skipper’s term of service was a district conference.  Didn’t we turn things inside out and upside down to entertain such an illustrious gathering?  Not since I could remember, had there been such a gathering of the faithful.”

All of this has come from Miss Debardeleben’s comments during this church’s centennial celebration in 1934.  Perhaps a bit more historical framework will deepen our appreciation.

When this church was organized in 1834, the Battle of Horseshoe Bend, which occurred in 1813, was more recent than the Korean conflict is to our own time.  One of the precipitating causes for the Creek Indian Wars was the opening of the Federal Road by Lieutenant Luckett in 1811–that is the road on which this church fronts.  In fact, only two years before the beginning of this church in 1834, was this area ceded from the Indians.  That treaty was signed in 1832, while Andrew Jackson was President.  Our land records here in Macon County commence in the 1830’s, usually the late 1830’s.

The establishment of this church in 1834 was nearer in point of time to John Wesley’s heartwarming experience at Aldersgate in 1738 than it is to our own day.  Methodism itself was still less than 100 years of age when the great history of this church embarked.

Speaking of Gettysburg, Lincoln said, “We cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground; for the brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract.”  Certainly, the same is true of this Holy Place.

If we listen in the stillness of this hour, we can almost hear the children who were our forefathers playing in the school yard across on the hill; the people gathering; the old organ; the fine preaching.  The anti-can’t class was organized here and met here–we recently buried the last charter member.  Can you imagine the excitement of a District Conference here at La Place?

Truly, this church has touched the lives of thousands.  Yet even its glorious history is now fading in memory, and the lives of its faithful members in those early days seems far removed from us.

That was a different day and age, before we were touched by the technological revolution.  The economy was cotton:  small patches–tenant farms–plantations.  The country stores weren’t novelties; they were necessities.  Cotton gins dotted the countryside.  What credit there was centered around the stores and gins and landowners.  But the economy was built on personal relationships.

This church was a nerve center in the network of that society.  But it was more than just a place to meet and exchange the stories of the day.  Young brides brought their grooms to this altar to establish Christian homes.  Young souls dedicated themselves to Christ here.  And, after the soul departed, friends and loved ones gathered here to mourn the passing.

Perhaps we who have seen this area gradually lose its character as a strong community, close to the soil, find our thoughts reflected in the words of Thomas Gray in his Elegy (Written in a Country Churchyard):

For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn

Or busy housewife ply her evening care;

No children run to lisp their sire’s return,

Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.

Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield,

Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke;

How jocund did they drive their team afield!

How bow’d the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!

Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,

Their homely joys, and destiny obscure;

Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile

The short and simple annals of the Poor.

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,

And all that beauty, all that wealth e’er gave

Awaits alike th’ inevitable house; –

The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

It’s good to turn to the past from time to time–to realize that our very existence rests on the struggles of dimly remembered pioneers who, among the many activities in their hard and busy lives, founded and nurtured this church.

But the struggle of life is unrelenting, and we must also look forward.  In five years, we will be entitled, by years, to a sesquicentennial celebration in this church.  This church is the oldest Methodist Society in Macon County.  Will we, of this generation, allow the light of the world, which has flickered within these walls as a beacon to seven generations, to be forever darkened?  John Donne said, “If a clod falls into the sea, Europe is the less; send not to know for whom the bell tolls, my brother, it tolls for Thee.”

Let’s again let these old walls ring the mighty hymns of this church; let’s let the word of God breathe from this pulpit and teach us to live and to die; let’s let our children go forth from this church into the world with a faith that prepares them for the 21st Century.

We have turned aside tonight, like Moses, to behold a miracle.  We might ask why this church, like the bush, is not at last consumed.  But the miracle only attracts our attention.  The voice of God tells us to take off our shoes, that the ground on which we are standing is Holy Ground.  Even more important is for us to remember that it was from that bush that Moses went forth and lead the Exodus, the deliverance of the children of God.