The church that we had began attending was called Mountain View United Church,at the corner of McBeth and Connught,just up the hill from the hospital.Mountain View United Church was very much unlike the other churches around Moncton,at least in appearance.It had neither steeple nor bell,and,in fact it didn't reach very high into the sky at all,and never cast much of a shadow.I often wondered how,if our church had no bell,how my mother ever knew it was time to go.Most likely she just knew.If she'd have had to admit to taking her cue from the bell in the big Catholic Church,she would most likely have been somewhat embarrassed.
Mountain View United was not built out of stones. Instead it was a 1960's style modern building made of brick,wood and glass,and it fit right in with the surrounding neighborhood,which featured a profusion of expansive brick houses.To me,it was a wonder that after the area around our church was built,including the hospital and the Mounted Police station,there were any bricks left over anywhere in the world. When my mother,or a Sunday School teacher would tell the story of the Children Of Israel being forced to make bricks in Egypt,my mind visualized those bricks going to build all those stylish houses all about our church,rather than for pyramids.But our church fit right into the neighborhood.
Often we would drive to church,but sometimes in fall or spring,we would walk.We only had one car then,so,if my father was away at work,we missed church.It was quite some distance to church and there was really not a lot to see on the way,so most times the walk bored me.We would walk down to the end of our street,then turn right and walk along mountain road to an old B/A filling station.We walked past the two schools,Mapelton,the French school.which was a wood frame white building,and Beaverbrook,which was made out of whatever brick was left over from when they made...well,you know.There was a small store at the corner of Mountain Road and Hastings,but neither the Shell car wash nor the McDonalds had yet been built.We would cross over Mountain Road once we got to the B/A station,it never varied.Often I wondered why we could never walk down the other side of Mountain Road,but we never did.
Just before we got to the church,there was a knife sharpening business in an old house.He sharpened skates as well,and once he even had a sword that you could see through the window.A bit farther along,there was a kind of a strange looking house.It was a bungalow,but it was kind of bent in the middle and there was a balcony wrapped around a big part of the upper story.I though of it as more like a boat than a house,and I always wanted to live in it.Later I found out that the people who lived there were Muslims.
What I know about our church was that it started out as a tent.Some of the adults that went there were always telling that story.How anyone could attend church in a tent was quite beyond me at the time.To my mind,a tent was a small place for sleeping in.But if you ever got caught sleeping in church... A tent was just too small to be a church.I had no concept of a church being anything other than a building.I just could not see how my mother,my sister,the minister,the choir and all the ushers and all of the other people would ever be able to get inside a tent.The first time you jumped up to say Amen or Hallelujah, the whole church would be torn apart,and,if it happened to be raining,the whole congregation would get baptized.But,as it turned out the good folks at Mountain View United had a bit of an aversion to shouting,and open air baptisms.Their idea of a tent was likely more like a circus big top.
I wondered too,why our Church was called Mountain View United,when it was right in the middle of town.I never did find out the answer to that question.It could have been a reference to Jerusalem,or to Calvary,perhaps.Or,if you looked way off on the horizon,there was what I suppose you could call a mountain,though it was really just a hill.
And so,at the age of four,church became part of our lives.It was a mysterious sort of thing right from the start.But I attended for about a decade until I finally decided that what I really was was an Atheist.When I woke up from that idea,decades later,I opened my Bible to a random page and read:"I look unto the mountains,where does my help come from..." (Psalm 121:1).
Mountain View United was not built out of stones. Instead it was a 1960's style modern building made of brick,wood and glass,and it fit right in with the surrounding neighborhood,which featured a profusion of expansive brick houses.To me,it was a wonder that after the area around our church was built,including the hospital and the Mounted Police station,there were any bricks left over anywhere in the world. When my mother,or a Sunday School teacher would tell the story of the Children Of Israel being forced to make bricks in Egypt,my mind visualized those bricks going to build all those stylish houses all about our church,rather than for pyramids.But our church fit right into the neighborhood.
Often we would drive to church,but sometimes in fall or spring,we would walk.We only had one car then,so,if my father was away at work,we missed church.It was quite some distance to church and there was really not a lot to see on the way,so most times the walk bored me.We would walk down to the end of our street,then turn right and walk along mountain road to an old B/A filling station.We walked past the two schools,Mapelton,the French school.which was a wood frame white building,and Beaverbrook,which was made out of whatever brick was left over from when they made...well,you know.There was a small store at the corner of Mountain Road and Hastings,but neither the Shell car wash nor the McDonalds had yet been built.We would cross over Mountain Road once we got to the B/A station,it never varied.Often I wondered why we could never walk down the other side of Mountain Road,but we never did.
Just before we got to the church,there was a knife sharpening business in an old house.He sharpened skates as well,and once he even had a sword that you could see through the window.A bit farther along,there was a kind of a strange looking house.It was a bungalow,but it was kind of bent in the middle and there was a balcony wrapped around a big part of the upper story.I though of it as more like a boat than a house,and I always wanted to live in it.Later I found out that the people who lived there were Muslims.
What I know about our church was that it started out as a tent.Some of the adults that went there were always telling that story.How anyone could attend church in a tent was quite beyond me at the time.To my mind,a tent was a small place for sleeping in.But if you ever got caught sleeping in church... A tent was just too small to be a church.I had no concept of a church being anything other than a building.I just could not see how my mother,my sister,the minister,the choir and all the ushers and all of the other people would ever be able to get inside a tent.The first time you jumped up to say Amen or Hallelujah, the whole church would be torn apart,and,if it happened to be raining,the whole congregation would get baptized.But,as it turned out the good folks at Mountain View United had a bit of an aversion to shouting,and open air baptisms.Their idea of a tent was likely more like a circus big top.
I wondered too,why our Church was called Mountain View United,when it was right in the middle of town.I never did find out the answer to that question.It could have been a reference to Jerusalem,or to Calvary,perhaps.Or,if you looked way off on the horizon,there was what I suppose you could call a mountain,though it was really just a hill.
And so,at the age of four,church became part of our lives.It was a mysterious sort of thing right from the start.But I attended for about a decade until I finally decided that what I really was was an Atheist.When I woke up from that idea,decades later,I opened my Bible to a random page and read:"I look unto the mountains,where does my help come from..." (Psalm 121:1).
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