A Church Building is a Haunted Place

Alapaha United Methodist Church, Alapaha, Georgia

Easter Sunday, 1991

Photograph by Kenneth Randolph Taylor

A WORK OF POETIC PROSE

A church building is a haunted place.

I enter the Alapaha United Methodist Church through the Sunday School wing, walk into the corridor leading to the sanctuary, and gaze through the wood-and-glass door, looking at the altar area.  My ears find themselves filled with the spectral sounds of the past century and two years.

Preaching, congregational singing, and choral singing fill my mind’s ears; these events date to the middle age of the now-defunct Methodist Episcopal Church, South.  These ghostly voices sing and speak to me, calming my soul.  These peaceful voices, however, will come to me only when I am quiet enough to hear my watch tick.  Only when one is quiet does one hear.

When I walk around Alapaha at night, I include in my route a visit to the Alapaha United Methodist Church sanctuary.  My physical form approaches the choir loft, activates the choir lights, and turns back toward the silent rows and empty pews.  The light shines upon the cross and disperses around the altar area.  Standing amidst all this light, I gaze at the dark sanctuary and listen for my spectral friends.  They remember me, for their voices rise to greet my soul.  When I depart the room, I am at peace.

Alapaha United Methodist Church is haunted by benevolent spirits who speak to those who take the time to be quiet and listen.  One who listens to them must return to hear the voices again and again, until one joins them.

A church building is a haunted place.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

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