Celebrating 10 years of The Vine Church- Tavia White
The first time I stepped into our big airy sanctuary it was lined with rows and rows of pews, marching their way forward, reminding me of my childhood church, where I had come to faith and been baptized. I took this as a good sign. It was the summer of 2015, and we had been through a rocky season of church upheaval. Our previous church, where we’d been married and dedicated our first three children, had fallen apart less than a year ago. We’d followed friends to Brier Church and now, a year later, we were moving again, as Brier, bursting at the seams, and Bethany Baptist Church, whose pastor felt called to retire but without a successor became a new blended branch of Jesus’s church, The Vine. With Annabelle strapped to my chest, trailing Magdalene, Vaughn, and Zane behind me, we got our first glimpse of our new church home. And now, somehow, it’s been ten years! For me personally, they’ve been the rockiest ten years of my life. Would many of us say the same? And yet here we are. As individuals, and as a body, we continue to praise the Lord, proclaim His name, and make known what He has done.
That first summer, Bethany and Brier joined together for vacation Bible school, and on one of our first Sundays together all the kids took the stage to sing their VBS songs to a packed house. It was a new beginning! But we must be honest: blending a family is tough. Pews or chairs? Hymnals or projectors? Wine or grape juice? Guitar or piano? So many decisions, so many preferences. A lot of people have come and gone in the past ten years. In Annabelle’s baby dedication picture, there are four other families on the stage. They’ve all moved on. There have been hard times. We’ve watched good friends walk away amidst deep personal struggles. We’ve felt sadness and confusion over friends leaving because of doctrinal disagreements that seemed like secondary issues to us. There have been disagreements that I wish were better resolved. And, just as it felt like we were stabilizing as a church: Covid. Did any church emerge unscathed from that season? But I can honestly say that in every tough decision that our pastors and leaders made I saw humility, perseverance, and grace. The honest work of imperfect people trying their best to seek the Lord.
And there are so many good memories, too. A few that float to the top: my kids’ first taste of Awana. The women’s retreat to Suncadia. The sanctuary cleared of chairs and spread with colorful blankets for VBS. Candles at Christmas Eve. Flowers for Easter. My kids’ baptisms. My mom’s memorial service. Sending brothers and sisters off to new callings, thankful that we are all part of His body, wherever we gather.
There’s also the challenge of this big, beautiful building the Lord gave us. He has been worshiped here for decades, what a privilege to carry that on! But I imagine it’s a bit like inheriting your great uncle’s mansion… All the potential! All the repairs. So many mysterious rooms! So many staircases. Has anyone counted them all? Have you gotten turned around in the basement more than once like I have? We could have a little treasure hunt around the building! At least three of those beautiful pews are still here… are there more? Do you know where the “Flower Room” is? I’ve always wanted a peek inside. There used to be a “Library” too; I remember the day we loaded the old wall shelving into several mini-vans and carted them to St.Vincent de Paul thrift store down the street. And be sure to visit the Commons and spend a minute with the beautiful picture of the church as it looked when it was first built. Take a minute to rejoice that the Lord is still being worshiped here.
Fast forward 10 years, and much has changed, but so much has stayed the same. There’s a youth room in the basement, and a playground in the parking lot. All my babies who sat beside me that first day in the sanctuary are back beside me in service again, except when they head upstairs to serve the next generation. “There is a reason the letters in Revelation are written to churches, not individual people,” writes Catherine McNiel in her book, All Shall Be Well. “We cannot succeed in faithfulness on our own… Life is a group project from first to last.” I am often filled with deep affection as I watch my brothers and sisters walk the aisle for communion. I rejoice that in all my struggles the Lord hasn’t let me go. That in all our imperfections, He welcomes our praise. May our soaring ceiling continue to shelter us as we lift our praise to the Lord for many years to come.