Bill King
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Last week, I wrote about having meals with a special family when I was pastor of White Springs Baptist Church. Back then, and long before, having the pastor and his family in for a meal was quite common. Families often had them in on Sundays after church. They didn’t call those meals Sunday lunches but Sunday dinners, even though they were midday meals. Through the years, Jean and I have been guests for such meals many times.
There is an old story about one family that had invited their pastor for one of those Sunday dinners. As they waited to gather around the table, one of the children asked the pastor if he knew what they were having for dinner. When he answered that he did not, the boy said, “buzzard.” Then he proceeded to explain that he overheard his mother tell his father, “Well, I guess it’s about time to have the old buzzard for dinner!” I may have possibly even been the “old buzzard” a time or two. This is a custom that has almost faded out these days. In the first church where I served as pastor, this was an event that took place every other week.
At the ripe old age of 21, while I was still a ministerial student at Samford University, I became a pastor for the first time. Half Acre Baptist Church invited me to come serve there and have Sunday dinners. The Half Acre Community is located 15 miles southwest of Linden, Alabama. The once-thriving community still had three churches there. They had Baptist, Methodist, and Presbyterian congregations, but all three met in the same building, which was called Half Acre Community Church. Basically, the same people went every Sunday, but the preacher changed each week. The Baptist was the largest group, so they had two Sundays each month. That meant that Jean and I went twice a month, so we were the honored guests for Sunday dinners every other week.
Since we lived in Birmingham, some 140 miles away, we drove down on Saturdays and went back home after the Sunday evening services. At first, we spent Saturday evenings in the homes of different church members, but eventually, someone provided a little house for our weekends… rent-free! Since the nearest restaurant was 14 miles away, we had Sunday dinners in homes. Baptists have always been big on fried chicken and signup sheets. Noah had a signup sheet for the ark, but his family members were the only ones allowed to sign up. Half Acre had a signup sheet for Sunday dinners on the bulletin board in the foyer. Anyone could sign up to host the pastor for Sunday dinner. Periodically, we all brought food to the church for one of those wonderful potluck dinners.
One Sunday, Jean and I went to Mr. Quinton Tucker’s Home for dinner. It was another one of those wonderful home-cooked meals. I can’t remember what all Mrs. Tucker set before us that day, but I do remember the main entrée was smothered steak. It was a pounded steak covered with gravy. When I commented about how delicious the steak was, Mr. Tucker said, “You like deer meat, do you?” When I answered, “I don’t know, I’ve never had it.” Mr. Tucker grinned widely as he said, “Well, you have now!” The more I chewed, the bigger it got! As it turned out, that was not the last time I had deer, and I learned to love it. I loved those times and those Sunday dinners, but I loved those people even more!
