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On the road to Palmyra, (there are many roads to Palmyra, but this is the shortest one), beyond he gap between Brown’s Mountain and Monticello, sits a white frame chapel, unlocked Sunday morning at 11:15. I press my thumb on an iron latch, and push open a white wooden door. Inside, the floorboards speak my arrival. The air, cool and little tampered with, circles around me. I hear a murmur of voices in unison. A few respectful steps and I slide into a pew, grabbing a green kneeler with my feet. My arrival has not gone unnoticed; Mrs. Bishop, the organist, has made a mental record of my attendance and is smiling. Mr. Leavell, the minister, may recognize me indirectly in his announcements today, or perhaps in his sermon. This is Simeon, Virginia, at St. Luke’s Chapel, just where Route 53 East takes a sharp right turn. Willard and Ella Bishop run a store across the road where a white sign boasts “Gas – Groceries – Information.” “There’s lots of history behind that church,” Mr. Bishop says looking out his door, beyond the gas pumps and Chevy pickups. “The land was given in 1892, with the ideas that no alcohol would be sold on this corner. There were lots of saloons back then.” The stained glass windows distinguish St Luke’s. They hypnotize: illuminated, tracing in and out of the window behind the altar. The glass behind the cross is clear, framing it in a rich white light. In front of the altar, Charles Leavell stands, framed by the window too. Above, through the crossing of the dark beams, is another window, smaller and of a different design. The colored glass does not form pictures or stories, but the patterns of lines and curves, “of fine, old glass,” Mr. Leavell says. More windows appear at each side, each different. It’s time to sing. Red and black hymnals and 1928 prayerbooks line the backs of the pews. Mrs. Bishop looks around the room, the congregation stands, and she begins to play. I feebly try to follow, but her high thin voice leaves me behind. “Just as I am…I come, I come.” The sun paints rainbows on the page of my hymnal, and the wind and branches join in to play on the heads of fifteen or so people. “I told myself in my younger ministry that I would not hand onto a “plum parish” in my old age,” Mr. Leavell, a Kentucky native, says. A graduate of the University in 1927 when he was a half-miler under track coach “Pop” Lannigan, and a graduate of Virginia Theological Seminary, Mr. Leavell is paid $20 a month fro his work at St. Luke’s. “Today, minister’s salaries are too high anyway,” he says. “I’m not worth that much, and neither are most of the clergy these days.” Mr. Leavell stands tall and wears thin, wire rimmed glasses. He is expressive and personal. He speaks of “the Mite box…a mighty box,” or of God’s willing” which is sometimes “slow willing.” He tells of his most recent 72nd birthday, and then walks to the back of the chapel to quiet the kerosene stove; by now I think, he has given up on the two crying babies. Perhaps in this chorus of people and noises, Mr. Leavell sees the future of St. Luke’s. In this sermon, he speaks of C.S. Lewis and Pascal, then he treats the congregation to “Faith of our Fathers” on the mandolin. Here is Lewis’ “liberating power of Christianity” with a good sense of humor. St. Luke’s history is cared for by people like Mr. Leavell and Mrs. Bishop. Well before 1892, a lady names Mrs. Marshall ran a two room Sunday School behind the site of the Bishops’ store. Also during that time, small diocesan missions were being set up in the mountains by the Archdeaconry of the Blue Ridge, for people who were isolated. Names such as Miss Julia Macon, of “Tufton”, Miss Katie, Mrs. MacNeil, Mrs Juliet Pretlow, figure prominently in St. Luke’s, Simeon history. Then in 1892, the Swearengines of “Sunnyfields” nearby, gave the land for a chapel. St. Luke’s is 86 years old. Some of the members have grandchildren in the University. On a Sunday morning at 11:15, I don’t try to enter unseen or unheard. The floorboards, and Mrs. Bishop and Mr. Leavell, greet me, and I take my seat. |
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Faith of our Fathers [By Virginia Christian, originally printed in “The Declaration”, a student weekly publication of the University of Virginia, March 9, 1978.] |
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Rev. Charles Leavell |