Hope

I don't know where to start. I'm not sure what to say. 

Abandoned Danville Church Burns to the Ground

That link will take you to the WCIA news story about this old abandoned church in Danville that burned down. But it was more than an old building or an old abandoned church to me. This is... was the Old Edgewood Building with the attached Hope Christian School.

From the middle of the building, looking toward the sanctuary.

This is the building where I have my first memories of going to church. I was baptized as a child here, I went to Sunday School here, Children's Church, Junior Church, and teen group. I have countless memories of coming here with my mother, when she was posting a new Bulletin Board or picking out her flannel graph for the next Sunday. I can remember running these halls when nobody was here. I remember my sisters skating down those tiled hallways or when I would run down the main school hall and make that leap from the top stair down to the gym doors. There were work days around this building, Easter sunrise breakfasts in the gymnasium, all-nighter-lockins with memories in all of the various hiding places in that building. There was the nursery, in more than one of the rooms, with the stacked-up cribs that looked more like zoo cages. There were plays, sermons, music specials, revival services, and the Clingman's xylophone and chimes. I have been "shushed" in those green pews, doodled on scrap paper next to my mom while asking for a stick of Juicy Fruit gum. I am sure that I occasionally dozed off or passed notes back and forth with the pastor's daughter. But sometimes... sometimes I listened intently to Pastor Jacobs. And then, somewhere in those halls or in one of the classrooms, I met Jesus.

From the drive-thru school entrance

I attended the High School that was here. I attended from 7th grade until the 10th grade, when in the spring of 1988, we found out that the school was going to shut down. I gave speeches in a speech class with Mr. Greer, I dissected an earth worm and learned some science from Mr. Bell.  I learned history from Darryl Myers. I learned how to type, on an actual typewriter, using correct-a-tape, and also took all of the "h's" off of every typewriter and putting them on one, they weren't happy about that. 

An old melted typewriter in the rubble.

When I was here. I learned math: I actually learned math from a teacher that taught math. I learned how to do proofs when I took Geometry in this building from Mrs. Howard.  (Mrs. Howard, who also noticed I couldn't see the board that well and reported it to her friend, my mom... leading to my life-long wearing of glasses!)  I ran around in that gym, getting hit in dodge-ball, missing layups in basketball, somehow dodging the ball entirely while playing volleyball, and enduring the inevitable, "... pull up!  Harmless is up!" when playing any version of kickball, softball, or wiffle-ball. 

I "sang" in the choir, directed by the Clingman's, except when I was ducking under the pews and rolling to the back of the sanctuary. I changed for soccer games in these locker rooms so that I could go sit on the bench during the game. And I even got stuffed in a locker once on the way to chapel, though I am fairly certain that I talked someone into doing that to me because I thought it would be funny. I spent some time in the principal's office, more than once... one time, ironically, for setting the bathroom trash on fire. (I promise, no connection to what recently happened.)  

Mr. Bell's Science classroom doorway.

Sink from the science lab.

After high school and while I was attending the local community college, it was in this building that I dedicated my life to Christ.  I preached my very first sermon in this building. When I worked at McLane, I used to come to this building on my way home, after 3rd shift, and enter this sanctuary when nobody else was here, just to talk with Jesus.  I got down on my face many, many times in this sanctuary.  

Around this same time I used to preach at the Danville Rescue Mission on Thursday nights. There were several homeless guys that I used to pick up and bring to this church on Sunday Morning. And it was in the old Principal's office that I envisioned Hope Ministries. One of the guys from the mission, who also worked at the VA, even made me some signs based on the ministry that I wanted to start. 

I had it all worked out for this old school building. The room I was going to turn into living quarters, the one for the men who would stay here, and classrooms, focused on learning scripture, Theology, Christian Living, and essential living... potentially learning a trade. My friend, Jason Humrichous, was going to be my connection to a job for these guys: the roots of, what would eventually become Heritage Custom Painting, was in its infancy with him, during this time. 

The front of the old building with the remains of the baptismal in view. 

I was gung-ho!  On fire for Jesus!  I had no training, but I didn't care. I was going to preach the Word and make disciples for Jesus. 

It was around this time that we held our final Vacation Bible School. I'll never forget it. We had planned it all out and had it ready to go. We put up our signs out front and prepared for the children. I was still working 3rd shift at McLane, but I would forgo sleep in order to run the puppet show. It was a huge success. We had never had that many children show up for VBS. It was a stress, I'm sure, but it captured what I thought ministry could potentially be all about. I had never been more excited about Jesus in my life... until after the week was over and we met to discuss what we could do in coming years... and one of the long-time Deacons said, "We will never do that again. All those kids wanted was free kool-aide and cookies. Their parents were just dropping them off with us for free child-care... That will never happen again for those kids."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. How could my perspective, even though I am sure it was young and naive... how could it have been so far different from this guy's? My excitement fizzled, and within a relatively short amount of time, the church decided to sell that big building. It was too much for a small congregation like ours. And all of my dreams, all of the visionary purposes I had come up with... HOPE Ministries... Helping Others Prepare for Eternity... but also a call-back to the school that had been here, remained in that building. It was prime real estate for anyone with a missional heart, but it seemed like I was alone.  We sold, we moved. And then I moved away from Danville. 

After 10 years of being away, I moved back to Danville, and through an odd assortment of situations, I ended up the Pastor of Edgewood (in their new location off Poland Road). I filled that role for 15 years. 

The day this building burned, I was mowing my yard thinking of that dream. Thinking of that building and all of its potential, potential that I knew was all but gone. And the very next day, I find out that it is now simply stubble. What do I do with that?   

The double doors that were behind where the piano sat.

I thank Jesus that the Kingdom that has come, and is continuing to arrive, will never fade away, it will never fall into disrepair, it will never be useless. I thank Him that his kingdom will never be annoyed at who arrives, will never turn anyone away, and will only continue to grow and blossom for all of eternity. I am grateful that there is work that we can do for this kingdom that won't burn, that won't be discarded, that can and will be established in that future kingdom that is being planted today.