In hearing from my sister Faye that Cash Point Baptist Church’s revival is going on this week, it brought back some fond memories. When I was young, revivals ran all week long, morning and night. If you didn’t heed the message in the morning, the preacher had another chance to get your attention at night.

I remember when Brother Kennedy was the preacher at Cash Point. The church was not the building you see today, and it didn’t have air conditioning. Believe me, an August revival was a solid reminder of why it was important to live a Christian life. No one wanted to hear of anything hotter than the dog days of August. Brother Kennedy believed what the Bible said, and he didn’t mince words about what was expected of a Christian. If you attended one of his revivals and didn’t understand the message of salvation, and how a Christian should live, something was missing in your brain cells.

I always loved Brother Kennedy. He was one of the best. I thought he would always be at Cash Point, but he was called to another church when I was in my teens. I think he went to Flint River Baptist, but I might be mistaken. That was an awfully long time ago.

I still remember how the old church looked. The choir sat on the right side of the pulpit area, and the amen corner was on the other. It was not unusual to hear lots of amen’s coming from that area during the sermon. There was a time when women would shout in church, but that was before my time. The middle aged women, whom I thought very old then, usually filled the choir and some would register their disapproval of any whispering that went on back in the pews. I sometimes was the recipient of one of those looks because if someone was doing something funny, I couldn’t keep from laughing.

One of my relatives, Jackie Dale Ferguson, was one who loved to make the girls laugh during church, and he caused many of us to get in trouble. Jackie himself probably caught it from Minnie and T.L. when he got home. He wasn’t bad. It was just his irrepressible fun-loving nature. As I recall, there were a bunch of other young fellows in the congregation that was sometimes called down by the preacher. Of course, it didn’t stop them permanently, but it did stop the commotion for that one service.

The windows in the church were opened during the summer. A lot of the men would sit outside in their automobiles and listen to the sermon. I can’t say I blame them since it sure was hot inside…not just from the weather either.

Today many churches don’t hold revivals, and those who do have very short sermons. Perhaps the preachers have learned that this generation has a short attention span and only absorb sound bites. From the couple of sermons I’ve heard Brother Moose preach at Cash Point, I would say he doesn’t mince words or watch the clock. That’s good! I think the younger generation needs some good hellfire and brimstone preaching. But then, so do the old folks. We never get too old to learn, but we sometimes have trouble holding on to the thoughts, particularly if we fall asleep during the sermon.